In the midst stood Tresham, his haggard features and palsied frame bespeaking the extremity of his terror.

His sword having been beaten from his grasp by Fawkes, and his dagger wrested from him by Keyes, he was utterly defenceless.
Viviana had placed herself between him and his assailants, and screening him from their attack, cried-- "Despatch me.

The fault is mine--mine only--and I am ready to pay the penalty.

Had I not released him, he would not have attempted to escape.
I am the rightful victim." "She speaks the truth," gasped Tresham.

"If she had not offered to liberate me, I should never have thought of flying.