"I will cry aloud. Some one will hear me," she said in desperation.
"Who will hear you above all that noise?" he inquired tersely.
The prisoners on the boat, now fully aware that their time of execution had come, were crying out against their fate,—some praying for mercy, some calling down the maledictions of heaven upon their butchers, while others wept silently.
"Merciful Virgin, protect me. I have lost all hope," cried Edmé, turning from Lebœuf and sinking despairingly upon her knees.
"Ah, now you are frightened!" exclaimed Lebœuf, "admit that you are frightened!"
"If it is any satisfaction to have succeeded in terrifying a woman unable to defend herself, I will not rob you of the pleasure, but know that it is not death, but the manner of it, that I fear."
"But you are afraid; you have confessed to it at last, and now Lebœuf will see that they do not harm you." He gave a grim chuckle as if he enjoyed having won his point. Rapidly pushing the table to one side, turning back the rug that covered the floor, he stooped; and to Edmé's astonished gaze lifted up a trap door in the floor of the cabin. Edmé drew back from the black hole at her feet.
"It is large enough to afford you air for several hours," Lebœuf said. "By that time I will get you out again. Quick, descend the steps."
Edmé, fearing further treachery, drew back in alarm. "I prefer to meet my fate here."
Lebœuf struck a light and by the rays of the lamp a ladder was revealed.