“Let us fly without a moment's delay,” returned Tresham, in the same tone, and hastily picking up a rapier and a dagger.
“Stay!” cried Viviana, arresting him. “Before you go, you must tell me what you are about to do.”
“We will talk of that when we are out of this accursed place,” he replied.
“You shall not stir a footstep,” she rejoined, placing herself resolutely between him and the outlet, “till you have sworn neither to betray your confederates, nor to do them injury.”
“May Heaven requite me, if I forgive them!” cried Tresham between his ground teeth.
“Remember!—you are yet in their power,” she rejoined. “One word from me, and they are at your side. Swear!—and swear solemnly, or you do not quit this spot.”
Tresham gazed at her fiercely, and griped his dagger, as if determined to free himself at any cost.
“Ah!” she ejaculated, noticing the movement, “you are indeed a traitor. You have neither sense of honour nor gratitude, and I leave you to your fate. Attempt to follow me, and I give the alarm.”
“Forgive me, Viviana,” he cried, abjectly prostrating himself at her feet, and clinging to the hem of her dress. “I meant only to terrify you; I would not injure you for worlds. Do not leave me with these ruthless cut-throats. They will assuredly murder me. Do not remain with them yourself, or you will come to some dreadful end. Fly with me, and I will place you beyond their reach—will watch over your safety. Or, if you are resolved to brave their fury, let me go, and I will take any oath you propose. As I hope for salvation I will not betray them.”
“Peace!” cried Viviana, contemptuously. “If I set you free, it is not to save you, but them.”