No answer. The prisoner lay quite still now.
'He does not hear,' said the harsh voice by my side. 'He is farther off than you think.'
I knew he lied, for had I not seen the man start when I first cried out? Was he Sir Hubert? I strained my eyes, but could not see if it was he. Why did he not turn round? Sir Hubert would have turned in a moment at my cry.
'Sir Hubert Blair,' I shouted, 'it is I—Margery Brown—will you not look at me? Turn round. Please—please turn round.'
I spoke in vain. The prisoner did not turn. He stayed in the same position.
'Oh, why does he not turn? I want to see his face,' I said.
Sir Claudius regarded me sternly.
'I said you might see, but not speak to him,' he said; 'and I only meant you to look at him.'
'But I want to see his face,' I said. 'I must see his face. Please ask him to turn towards us.'
Sir Claudius looked annoyed. At last he said with evident reluctance—