I was between two fires. I had left the window unguarded, and I could not tell what was passing outside. On the other hand I could not let her go down and place herself in the power of these miscreants, who, unless they were fools, would hold her as a hostage for my surrender. I caught her by the arm. “Don’t!” I cried. “You are mad!”
But she would not listen, she persisted. She struggled with me, and I had only one arm. I had to use my full strength. I dragged her away at last, and in the excitement, having the unguarded window on my mind and the fear of what the men might do while she kept me thus, I shook her—I shook her angrily.
“Come back to your senses!” I said. “I am not going to let you do it! Do you hear! You are not going down!”
“I must!” she cried, struggling with me.
“You will not!” I said.
She ceased to struggle at that, and appeared to come to herself. Then—I still held her firmly by the arm—a blush dyed her face to the roots of her hair. Her eyes fell. “Let me go,” she muttered.
“Will you do as I say?” I cried. “Will you be guided?”
“Yes,” she said, her lips quivering. There were tears in her eyes.
“And give up this mad idea?”
“Yes.”