I saw that in another moment, and with one impetus of frenzy more, I should be able to do nothing with him.
The present--the passing second of time--was all I had in which to control and restrain him--a movement of repulsion, flight, fear would have sealed my doom,--and his.

But I was not afraid: not in the least.

I felt an inward power; a sense of influence, which supported me.

The crisis was perilous; but not without its charm: such as the Indian, perhaps, feels when he slips over the rapid in his canoe.

I took hold of his clenched hand, loosened the contorted fingers, and said to him, soothingly-- "Sit down; I'll talk to you as long as you like, and hear all you have to say, whether reasonable or unreasonable." He sat down: but he did not get leave to speak directly.