You see, then, you may
count on me for silence. So tell me the truth, my dear young lady,
are you not in danger?"
"Mr. Northmour says you are an honourable man," she returned, "and
I believe it when I see you. I will tell you so much; you are
right; we are in dreadful, dreadful danger, and you share it by
remaining where you are."
"Ah!" said I; "you have heard of me from Northmour? And he gives
me a good character?"
"I asked him about you last night," was her reply. "I pretended,"
she hesitated, "I pretended to have met you long ago, and spoken to
you of him. It was not true; but I could not help myself without
betraying you, and you had put me in a difficulty. He praised you
highly."
"And - you may permit me one question - does this danger come from
Northmour?" I asked.
"From Mr. Northmour?" she cried. "Oh no; he stays with us to share
it."
"While you propose that I should run away?" I said. "You do not
rate me very high."
"Why should you stay?" she asked. "You are no friend of ours."
I know not what came over me, for I had not been conscious of a
similar weakness since I was a child, but I was so mortified by
this retort that my eyes pricked and filled with tears, as I
continued to gaze upon her face.
"No, no," she said, in a changed voice; "I did not mean the words
unkindly."
"It was I who offended," I said; and I held out my hand with a look
of appeal that somehow touched her, for she gave me hers at once,
and even eagerly.
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