"Mr. Kazallon," she said to me, "do you think we are fated to die
of hunger?"
"Yes; Miss Herbey, I do," I replied in a hard, cold tone.
"How long do you suppose we have to live?" she asked again.
"I cannot say; perhaps we shall linger on longer than we
imagine."
"The strongest constitutions suffer the most, do they not?" she
said.
"Yes; but they have one consolation; they die the soonest;" I
replied coldly.
Had every spark of humanity died out of my breast that I thus
brought the girl face to face with the terrible truth without a
word of hope or comfort? The eyes of Andre and his father,
dilated with hunger, were fixed upon me, and I saw reproach and
astonishment written in their faces.
Afterwards, when we were quite alone, Miss Herbey asked me if I
would grant her a favour.
"Certainly, Miss Herbey; anything you like to ask," I replied;
and this time my manner was kinder and more genial.
"Mr. Kazallon," she said, "I am weaker than you, and shall
probably die first. Promise me that, if I do, you will throw my
body into the sea."
"Oh, Miss Herbey," I began, "it was very wrong of me to speak to
you as I did!"
"No, no," she replied, half smiling; "you were quite right. But
it is a weakness of mine; I don't mind what they do with me as
long as I am alive, but when I am dead--" she stopped and
shuddered. "Oh, promise me that you will throw me into, the
sea!"
I gave her the melancholy promise, which she acknowledged by
pressing my hand feebly with her emaciated fingers.
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