"It is sometimes difficult to keep one's feet when the floor is at this angle," she remarked as she drew near to me; and then she paced again into the distance. She was nervous and distressed, I could see, though her face had not betrayed the fact. Yet how was I to comfort her? We were all on edge. Once again she paused near me.
"What are our chances?"
"They are hopeful," said I, as cheerfully as I might. "The fortress has always more chances than the leaguers, providing rations hold out, and there is no fear of ours."
"Ah, tell me the truth!" she cried with agitation.
"Madam, I have said what is exactly true," I replied gravely. "I have spoken of chances."
"And if we lose?" she asked after a pause.
Her eyes encountered mine fully. "I have no information," I said slowly, "and very little material to go on in guessing. But I hope we shall not lose," I added.
"This can't go on forever, Dr. Phillimore," she said with a little catch in her voice. "It has gone on so long."
My heart bled for her. She had been so courageous; she had shown such fortitude, such resistance, such common sense, this beautiful proud woman; and she was now breaking down before one of her brother's employees.
"It can't go on much longer," I said, again gravely. "It will come to its own conclusion presently."