"There are two armed sentinels outside--the windows are
barred--you are without weapons--and even if you had them, there
is a guard-house within hail on one side of you, and the tribunal
on the other. Escape from this room is impossible," answered
Lomaque.
"Impossible!" repeated the other, furiously. "You traitor! you
coward! can you look at her sitting there helpless, her very life
ebbing away already with every minute that passes, and tell me
coolly that escape is impossible?"
In the frenzy of his grief and despair, he lifted his disengaged
hand threateningly while he spoke. Lomaque caught him by the
wrist, and drew him toward a window open at the top.
"You are not in your right senses," said the chief agent, firmly;
"anxiety and apprehension on your sister's account have shaken
your mind. Try to compose yourself, and listen to me. I have
something important to say--" (Trudaine looked at him
incredulously.) "Important," continued Lomaque, "as affecting
your sister's interests at this terrible crisis."
That last appeal had an instantaneous effect. Trudaine's
outstretched hand dropped to his side, and a sudden change passed
over his expression.
"Give me a moment," he said, faintly; and turning away, leaned
against the wall and pressed his burning forehead on the chill,
damp stone. He did not raise his head again till he had mastered
himself, and could say quietly, "Speak; I am fit to hear you, and
sufficiently in my senses to ask your forgiveness for what I said
just now.
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