At length he spoke. “And you are willing to die?” he asked his son.
“Since it must be so—yes.”
“And you, Sonya?”
“I do not want to die, but I am quite ready.”
“And do you not regret what you have done?”
“I only regret,” said she, “that it all turned out so ill.”
There was a knock at the dungeon’s door, and the governor called that the fifteen minutes were at an end.
The general paled. A spasmodic twitching rippled across his stern, strong face.
“I must go now,” he said.
Sonya stretched out to him both her hands and her eyes filled with tears. “Good-bye, father. And in the—the future—try to see that the cause we died for——”