When he spoke his words were passionless echoes of what had been.
"You are sure that Marion would kill herself as soon as she became the wife of Strang ?" he asked.
"Yes--before his vile hands touched more than the dress she wore!" shouted Neil.
"Then Marion is dead," replied Nathaniel, as coldly as though he were talking to the walls about him.

"For last night Marion was forced into the harem of the king." As he revealed the secret whose torture he meant to keep imprisoned in his own breast he dropped upon the pallet of straw and buried his face between his arms, cursing himself that he had weakened in these last hours of their comradeship.
He dared not look to see the effect of his words on Neil.

His companion uttered no sound.

Instead there was a silence that was terrifying.
At the end of it Neil spoke in a voice so strangely calm that Nathaniel sat up and stared at him through the gloom.
"I believe they are coming after us, Nat.

Listen!" The tread of many feet came to them faintly from beyond the corridor wall.
Nathaniel had risen.