She rose and walked about the room, wringing her hands. Her faith in him had come back, but she was still terribly afraid.
“It is early yet,” said Moreno presently. “You have plenty of time to send round for Contraras and throw yourself on his compassion. Implore him not to compel you to assist at the condemnation, perhaps the execution, of a man who was once your lover. He might give way.”
“The last thing he would do. He would think it a grand opportunity to show my fidelity to the Cause. He would let nothing stand in the way if it were his own case.”
“I agree with you now, as I agreed before when we discussed the same subject. Well, you must make up your mind. Take this, or wait here and come with Alvedero to-night.”
She was still wavering, torn between faith and doubt. “But you said you could save Guy Rossett? Is there any doubt of that?”
And Moreno, out of his pity for the woman, out of the attraction she possessed for him, spoke more plainly than he had intended.
“There is great doubt of it. But even if I could save Guy Rossett, I doubt if I could save you. I might just manage to save myself.”
And then, in a flash, she understood, and she doubted him no longer.
“I think I see it all now. You are no more a true son of the Cause than I am a true daughter. I sold their secrets for money. You would betray them for the same or other reasons.”
Moreno did not answer the question directly. He simply held out the phial towards her. “Will you drink this or not?”