"You want to go back to your own time alone, my dear?" Ortine had strolled casually to the other side of the bed.
Deborah gave him a long look, replied, "Nay, I'll take my chances wi' ye'r hellfire, Master Devil."
"I can ensure that the importunities of Master Otis will meet with no success," offered Ortine. "I can see that you wed a fine young man of family with a mansion near North Square."
"Ye cannot give me Charles," Deborah said fiercely.
Ortine lifted a sardonic eyebrow at Justin. He said, "I'll give you a few minutes alone with her, my dear fellow. For her own sake and yours I hope you can talk some sense into her."
He strolled out and Deborah flung herself on Charles, sobbing her fear. He said when she had calmed a little, "Dear Deborah, you've got to understand. Ortine's fire is real only if you believe it. You saw me standing in it unsinged."
"I know!" she sobbed. "My eyes saw and my poor brain understood but the rest of me couldn't believe."
"You can thank your preachers for that," said Justin. "They've been playing right into the hands of Ortine all along. Now that you've seen I can't be hurt you've got to believe yourself. Otherwise I'm afraid...."
"Else what?" she asked tremulously.
"Otherwise there's no hope for us, honey. If we can't stand together against him we might as well both be dead. It will mean the death of the world as we know it." He looked close into the depths of her blue eyes. "Do you think you're strong enough—with me at your side?"