“Get on, Leonard!” she cried.
“You savage beast!” shouted Ralph, beside himself. “What a horror! You have indeed torn off the mask! There’s no longer any need for you to act your comedy! That’s what you really are—an executioner!”
But there was no holding her; she was set in her barbarous desire to hurt and torture the young girl. With her own hands she pushed Clarice, whom Leonard was dragging towards the door.
“Coward! Monster!” Ralph yelled. “A hair of her head, look you—a single hair! It means death for the two of you! Loose her, you monsters!”
He strained so violently against his bonds that all the apparatus devised by Beaumagnan to hold him smashed. The worm-eaten shutter tore from its hinges and fell in pieces into the room behind him.
There was a moment of anxiety in the opposing camp.
But the ropes, though loosened, were strong and hampered him sufficiently to render him helpless. Nevertheless Leonard drew his revolver and pressed it against Clarice’s temple.
“If he makes another step, a single movement, blow her brains out!” cried Josephine.
Ralph did not stir. He did not doubt that Leonard would carry out that order and that his slightest gesture meant instant death to Clarice. Then?... Then must he resign himself to her fate? Were there no means of saving her?
Josephine gazed somberly at him; then she said: “Come: you understand the situation and you’re going to behave yourself.”