“She's coming, at last!” He looked at his watch again, straightened his cravat before a mirror, and rubbed his hands with a low laugh. “The little beauty has surrendered,” he went on, his face turning for an instant toward the coffin box. “And it's time—past time.”
A light knock sounded at the door, and the chief sprang to open it. A figure darted past him, and for but a breath a white, beautiful face was turned toward Philip and his prison—the face of the young woman whom he had seen but two hours before in Le Pas, the face that had pleaded with him that night, that had smiled upon him from the photograph, and that seemed to be masked now in a cold marble-like horror, as its glorious eyes, like pools of glowing fire, seemed searching him out through that narrow slit in the coffin box.
Hodges had advanced, with arms reaching out, and the woman turned with a low, sobbing breath breaking from her lips.
Another step and Hodges would have taken her in his arms, but she evaded him with a quick movement, and pointed to a chair at one side of the table.
“Sit down!” she cried softly. “Sit down, and listen!”
Was it fancy, or did her eyes turn with almost a prayer in them to the box against the wall? Philip's heart was beating like a drum. That one word he knew was intended for him.
“Sit down,” she repeated, as Hodges hesitated. “Sit down—there—and I will sit here. Before—before you touch me, I want an understanding. You will let me talk, and listen—listen!”
Again that one word—“listen!”-Philip knew was intended for him.
The chief had dropped into his chair, and his visitor seated herself opposite him, with her face toward Philip. She flung back the fur from about her shoulders, and took off her fur turban, so that the light of the big hanging lamp fell full upon the glory of her hair, and set off more vividly the ivory pallor of her cheeks, in which a short time before Philip had seen the rich crimson glow of life, and something that was not fear.
“We must come to an understanding,” she repeated, fixing her eyes steadily upon the man before her. “I would sacrifice my life for him—for my husband—and you are demanding that I do more than that. I must be sure of the reward!”