thing. Yet I knew she would
prefer death, in its worst form, to falling into the unrestrained hands
of the red Captain. The man's eyes, from the moment when he introduced
her name, betrayed the eagerness of his new hope to make himself her
master,--though he still controlled his speech. I say his new hope, for
it must have arisen upon the death of the Count, during whose life, not
daring openly to play the rival, he had found his only satisfaction in a
revenge which provided that none might have what was denied to him. It
was for me to decide now whether she should die or find herself at the
mercy of Captain Ferragant. Was it right that I should decide for her as
she would decide for herself? Was it for me to consign her to death,
though I was certain that would be her own choice? Even though the
Captain found her, was not life, with its possible chance of future
escape, of her being able to move him by tears and innocence, of some
friendly interposition of fate, preferable to the sure alternative doom?

"I will leave you to make up your mind quietly," said the Captain. "When
you are ready to speak to the point, call to the men in the
passage,--one of them will come to me. The door will be left open. I
hope you will not be slow in choosing the sensible course: I cannot give
you many hours for consideration."

He went out, addressed some orders to four or five men who sat on a
bench facing my door, and disappeared: I heard his feet descending the
stairs. My door was left wide open, so that I was directly in the gaze
of the men. But even if I had been unobserved, I could not have moved
from the place where I sat. Any effort to break my bonds, either of
wrist or ankle, by sheer strength, was but to cause weakness and pain.
My arms ached from the constraint of their position, and, because of
them behind me, it was impossible to lie at full length on my back. Nor
would the chain, without cutting into my thighs, permit me to lie on
either side. I was thus unable to change even my attitude.

But my discomforts of body were nothing in presence of the question that
tore my mind. Minutes passed; time stretched into hours: still I
discussed with myself, to which of the fates at my choice should I
deliver her? Should I give her to death, or to the arms of the red
Captain? Little as she feared the first, much as she loathed the second,
dared I take it upon myself to assign her to death? Had it been mere
death, without the horrors