Yet a long time went by before she again felt the cords slip and give under her manipulation.
After she was able to draw out one hand she stood for some time in silence, considering what she could do. Apparently, she could do nothing, because of the men near by.
She did not dare to speak of what she had done to Pool, lest she should be overheard.
After that, as she had waited, hoping for something that would create a diversion of which she could take advantage, the slow-moving time had seemed interminable.
But Pizen Jane was possessed of monumental patience.
She had waited, minute by minute and hour by hour, hoping that something would turn in her favor.
At intervals she had strained at the cords which still held one wrist, and at last freed it. Her feet were still tied at the ankles, and her body was still bound to the barricade.
She grew desperate when she saw the gray dawn breaking, and knew that day was near, when inevitably what she had done would be discovered.
She began to strain at the cords on her ankles; and at length, in her desperation, she stooped over, determined to untie them with her hands.
The sentinel out in front saw her do this.