“Let us recapitulate,” he said at length, in his full rich voice. “The position is this. I gave you this morning the choice between consenting to marry me to-morrow and seeing your old uncle and benefactor shot. Further, I assured you that if you would not consent to marry me your uncle should be shot, and that I would then make you mine, dispensing with the ceremony of marriage. Is that not so?”
Bessie made no answer, and he continued, his eyes fixed upon her face, and thoughtfully stroking his beard.
“Silence gives consent. I will go on. Before a man can be shot according to law he must be tried and condemned according to law. Your uncle has been tried and has been condemned.”
“I heard it all, cruel murderer that you are,” said Bessie, lifting her head for the first time.
“So! I thought you would, through the crack. That is why I had you put into this place; it would not have looked well to bring you before the court;” and he took the light and examined the crevice. “This wall is badly built,” he went on in a careless tone; “look, there is another space there at the back;” and he actually came up to it and held the lantern close to the airhole in such fashion that its light shone through into Jess’s eyes and nearly blinded her. She shut them quickly so that the gleam reflected from them should not betray her, then held her breath and remained still as the dead. In another second Muller took away the light and replaced it on the mealie bag.
“So you say you saw it all. Well, it must have shown you that I was in earnest. The old man took it well, did he not? He is a brave man, and I respect him. I fancy that he will not move a muscle at the last. That comes of English blood, you see. It is the best in the world, and I am proud to have it in my veins.”
“Cannot you stop torturing me, and say what you have to say?” asked Bessie.
“I had no wish to torture you, but if you like I will come to the point. It is this. Will you now consent to marry me to-morrow morning at sun-up, or am I to be forced to carry the sentence on your old uncle into effect?”
“I will not. I will not. I hate you and defy you.”
Muller looked at her coldly, and then drew his pocket-book from his pocket and extracted from it the death-warrant and a pencil.