CHAPTER XX
WE ARRIVE AT A CRISIS
I remained there, pressed into one corner, unable to move, scarcely venturing to breathe, her skirt brushing my leg, the strands of her hair, loosened by the night wind, almost in my face. She was gazing straight out into the night, utterly unconscious of my presence, so deeply buried in her own trouble that all else seemed as nothing. For a moment she remained motionless, silent; then her hands pressed against her forehead, and her lips gave utterance to a single exclamation:
"Oh, God! I can never, never stand it! What shall I do?"
Perhaps I moved, perhaps some sense of the occult revealed my presence, for she turned swiftly, with a sharp gasp of the breath, and looked straight into my eyes. The recognition was instant, bewildering, a shock which left her speechless, choking back the cry of alarm which rose into her throat. She gripped the rail and stared as though at a ghost.
"Don't cry out," I entreated quickly. "Surely you know whom I am."
"Yes, yes," struggling to regain her voice. "I--know; but why are you here? How long have you been here?"
"It is a story too complex to repeat," I said earnestly, "but I have been here since your father first came--don't blame me, for I couldn't get away."
"Then--then you heard--"
"Yes; I heard everything. I tried not to; I pledge you my word it was all an accident. I was here for another purpose, a military purpose. I did not even know this was your home. I am trapped on this balcony, and dare not attempt to get away--I had to listen. You will believe what I say?"