they go, I'll join you and we can leave before daylight."
"I must face it. There's no other way."
"Yes, yes, this way—the old sweet way of love! I can't let them take you—you're mine now—I love you—I love you!—John, dear, he has big ugly handcuffs. He was going to put them on you—didn't you see him?"—her voice faltered.
"Yes, I saw him."
"I can't stand it, John, I can't—oh, dear, you don't understand, and I can't explain—You love me?"
"Better than life and deeper than death."
"And yet you refuse my heart's desire?"
"Only in this. I'm done with lawlessness. I'm not a coward. I've led a successful revolution. It had to be, and now with silent lips I'll face my accusers."
A hot tear fell on his hand.
"Come, dearest, you must help me," he pleaded.
"Yes, yes, I will," she faltered, brushing the tears away. "Come then, we will have this one little supper together, shall we not?"
"Yes. I want to look across that old table into your face again."
He chatted gaily through the supper and she sat silent, choking back the sobs, unable to eat.
The sergeant bowed at the door:
