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THE STRAND MAGAZINE.

sided back into my chair and resigned myself to patience.

"Keep it, of course, if you choose; it makes no difference to me."


"Clutching the weapon more eagerly than before."

She gave a sigh of relief, and a swift glance in my face, and in a moment it was evident that her mood had changed. Placing her hand again on my arm, she seemed struggling to keep back her tears, and at length, with a pathetic sweetness in her voice, she spoke again.

"I think you look kind and good! I am sure you would not harm me!"

"Harm her!" Poor hunted creature! I whispered words of sympathy and reassurance, and succeeded once more in calming her. I now decided that any fresh attempt to force the knife from her would be worse than useless, and again we relapsed into silence. I was really beginning to feel quite worn out, and over and over again, while considering the embarrassing situation, was tempted to make a dash for the knife, and shout for help at the same moment; but I determined, if my patience would hold out, that any coercion would be best avoided. As to leaving her alone, that was undoubtedly out of the question. I was practically helpless, then, as long as she clasped to her bosom the murderous steel, which she might in an instant employ in a manner which I shuddered to contemplate.

Besides, a new idea had now seized me, which I hailed as a possible mitigation of the strain which was beginning to tell upon me. If she would but fall asleep! She was so still, so intensely still! Yet, though I tried to persuade myself to believe in such a piece of good luck, I had all the while a strong misgiving that she was very wide awake indeed, and that a close, though stealthy, scrutiny of me between her half-closed eyelids had never for one instant relaxed. I am quite unable to say how long this state of things endured, though I remembered noticing with thanksgiving that when the candle expired with a sickly gasp in the socket, some faint rays of coming dawn were finding their way into the room.

And so we remained facing each other in the terrible silence, until at length it became intolerable, and I spoke again.

"Look! Do you see the day is breaking? Now, what if you were to go back to bed, and try for an hour's sleep before sunrise? It happens so often that, when sleep is driven away early in the night, one can rest just before morning. Come," I continued, gently, "do return to your room to please me."

She shook her head, and I went on desperately. "It was our thoughtless, noisy merriment last night that roused you and disturbed you from your rest, I suppose. We were very selfish to forget all the trouble and suffering that were so near us."

The effect of this remark was electrical. She half started from the sofa, snatched her hand from mine, and gazed eagerly in my face.