knew that her quivering nerves
had tricked her. Shuddering from head to foot, she stood listening,
debating with herself.

Her time was very short now; only three minutes to the half-hour--only
two--only one!

With a gasp, she gathered together all the little strength she had left.
But she could not descend those gloomy stairs. She dared not go to him.
She stood halting at the top.

Ah, now he was moving! She heard his step in the room below, and she was
conscious of an instant's wild relief that the suspense was past.

Then panic rushed back upon her, blotting out all else. She saw his
shadow on the stairs, and she cried to him to stop.

"I am coming down to you! Wait for me! Wait!"

He stepped back, and she stumbled downwards, nearly falling in her haste.
At the last stair she tripped, recovering herself only by the arm he
flung out to catch her.

"I was coming!" she gasped incoherently. "I would have come before, but
the stairs were dark--so dark, and I was frightened!"

"There is nothing to frighten you," he said gravely.

"I can't help it!" she wailed like a child. "Oh, Piet--Piet, be kind to
me--just this once--if you can! I--I'm terrified!"

He put his arm round her.

"Why?" he said.

She could not tell him. But in a vague fashion his arm comforted her; and
that also was beyond explanation.

"You are not angry?" she whispered.

"No," he said.

"You will be," she said, shivering, "when I have told you my decision."

"What is your decision?" he asked.

She did not answer him; she could not.

He moved, and very gently set her free. There was a chair by the table
from which he had evidently just risen. He turned to it and sat down,
watching her under his hand.

"What is your decision?" he asked again.

She shook her head. Her agony of fear was passing, but still she could
not tell him yet.

He waited silently, his face so shaded by his hand that she could not
read its expression.

"Why don't you answer me?" he said at last.

"I--can't!" she said, with a sob.

"You leave the decision to me?" he questioned.

She did not answer.

He straightened himself slowly, without rising.

"My decision is made," he said. "Give me your hand; not that one--the
left."

She obeyed him trembling. He had taken something from his pocket. With a
start she saw what it was.

"Oh, no, Piet--no!" she cried.

But he had his way, for he would not suffer her resistance to thwart him.
Very gravely and reso