She covered her eyes a moment, and was mute.
'I do it for you, not for him,' continued Sanctis. 'I should care nothing if he died to-morrow; but I will do my best to aid him to escape if he will trust himself to me—that I swear to you. Will you go and tell him so?'
She was still silent; so was he.
'It will be possible if money enough be spent on it; and I will grudge nothing,' he added, after a long pause. 'If he attribute to me base motives, he must do so. I do not care for his judgment. If he will come, I will aid him in every way that he may wish.'
'You would take him to your own land?'
'Yes,'
She said nothing more for awhile; she rested against the marble column with her hand before her eyes still. Then suddenly she looked up; she was as pale as the white marble by which she leaned.
'I will go and tell him,' she said simply. 'It is for him to choose.'
Without more words she turned and began to traverse the loggia. At some little distance she looked back and spoke:
