“Can nothing, then, drive away your doubts of my loyalty? But you shall know all soon.”
“Soon, monster!” repeated I, “soon; it is now, at this instant, that I want to know all. Where is Marie? where is Marie? Answer, or stake your life against mine. Defend yourself.”
“I have already told you,” answered he, sadly, “that that is impossible; the stream will not struggle against its source, and my life, which you have three times saved, cannot contend against yours. Besides, even if I wished it the thing is impossible; we have but one dagger between us.”
As he spoke, he drew the weapon from his girdle and offered it to me.
“Take it,” said he.
I was beside myself with passion, I seized the dagger and placed the point on his breast, he never attempted to move.
“Wretch,” cried I, “do not force me to murder you; I will plunge this blade into your heart if you do not at once tell me where my wife is.”
He replied, in his calm way, “You are the master to do as you like, but with clasped hands I implore you to grant me one hour of life, and to follow me. Can you doubt him who thrice has owed his life to you, and whom you once called brother? Listen: if in one hour from this time you still doubt me, you shall be at perfect liberty to kill me. That will be time enough; you see that I do not attempt to resist you. I conjure you in the name of Maria—of your wife,” he added slowly, as though the victim of some painful recollection, “give me but another hour, I beg of you, not for my sake, but for yours.”
There was so much pathos in his entreaties that an inner feeling warned me to grant his request, and I yielded to that secret ascendency which he exercised over me, but which at that time I should have blushed to have confessed.
“Well,” said I, slowly, “I will grant you one hour, and I am ready to follow you;” and as I spoke I handed him his dagger.