Guilty Bonds Part 20

"You have told me so many falsehoods that a little truth is certainly refreshing!" I replied with sarcasm.

"I cannot force you to believe me," she continued in a low voice, still steadying herself by the chair.

"Do you think me such a confounded idiot, then, as to believe you could have business with a strange man at that hour of the night?"

"Business, nevertheless, was the object of our meeting."

"Bah! your excuses are positively intolerable. What was the nature of this business?"

"You must not know," she replied, hesitatingly.

Her brows contracted, and her tiny hands clenched tightly upon the chair-back, as if summoning all her courage to be firm.

"Ah! the old story. More mystery. Look here! I've had enough of it!"

I shouted in anger. "In fact, I've had too much of it already, and I demand an explanation, or you and I must part!"

A shudder ran through her slim frame as I spoke, and she lost her support and almost fell. With a sudden movement she pushed back the ma.s.s of dark curls from her forehead, her bright eyes gleamed with an earnest fire as they met mine, and she said, hysterically, "You are cruel--you do not know how I suffer, for your surmise is not correct in the smallest degree. You, my husband, I love, and no one else. And you accuse me. _Mon Dieu_!"

My self-control was very nearly exhausted. If she had been a man I might have struck her! As it was, I was powerless, and as I looked at her my eyes must have gleamed with fury.

"Last night proved the great extent of your love for me," I exclaimed fiercely.

All that latent fire which exists in every woman's nature, ready to burst into flame when her self-respect is wounded, was aglow in Vera as I uttered that retort.

"I cannot see that it did. I have done absolutely nothing of which I am ashamed," was her answer.

She spoke with a cool, reckless candour that shocked me. My thoughts were soured by disappointment.

"What!" I cried, "have you no compunction?"

"I am sorry it was my ill-luck to be seen by you, and thus cause you unnecessary pain."

"Oh, spare me your expressions of sorrow, pray," I said, in a hard tone.

"They are out of place."

"I had thought to keep his presence a secret," she continued in that dead-calm voice, which was like some one speaking in a dream.

"If he were not your lover, why should you do that? Your own words prove your guilt?"

"Because I had reasons," she replied. "Reasons!" I repeated, my thoughts at once reverting to the piece of seal I had discovered.

"Strange reasons they must be, surely. What is his name?"

"It is n.o.body you know. You have never heard of him."

It was upon the tip of my tongue to denounce him as the perpetrator of the crime in Bedford Place, but with difficulty I restrained myself, and, impelled by the strangeness of her manner, demanded:

"Who is he? Answer me!"

"I am very sorry, Frank, but I cannot," she replied, her face deathly pale, and her limbs trembling with agitation.

"Then you refuse to answer?" I cried, stung to the quick by her dogged persistency.

"Yes; I must."

Her hands clasped, her teeth firmly set, her bloodless face tear-stained and haggard, and her hair disordered, she stood rigidly beside the chair that supported her, striving by an almost superhuman effort to suppress her emotion.

"Vera," I shouted fiercely, "it seems I've been fooled. Curse that man who has brought misery and destruction to us both! By heaven if--"

"He is not to blame: it is I," she interrupted. "You shield him at the expense of yourself. I see. Now, hear me. All my questions you have evaded; to none will you give direct answers. Enough of mysteries which you have refused to reveal ever since knowing me; therefore, we can do naught else but part."

"What--you will leave me because of this?" she moaned, with a wild, hysterical cry. "Why don't you go a step further--why don't you say at once you are tired of me?" she cried, with an outburst of pa.s.sion. "Say that you wish me dead."

"That would be untrue," I answered. "You know well I have lived only for you, Vera, and at nothing should I rejoice more than to be able to prove myself mistaken; yet, until that can be done, we must separate."

She was grave and thoughtful for a moment, then, looking into my face, said haughtily:

"If you are determined upon this step, I am powerless to prevent it."

"No, you are not," I a.s.serted.

"Why?"

"Because you might answer satisfactorily the questions I put to you just now."

"No; no, anything but that," she replied promptly, as with a frantic gesture she covered her face with her hands, continuing, "It--it would be far better for us to part, or the result--the result--might prove fatal."

"What do you mean?" I demanded incredulously, as the mystery of the seal recurred to me.

"I mean that my secret must be kept, even if we part," she gasped, with a futile endeavour to compose herself.

"This is your final decision, then?"

"Alas! it must be."

"Very well, Vera, I wish you adieu," I said sadly, for I was completely broken-hearted at the thought of my idol's deceit, and the transparent subterfuges by which she had endeavoured to conceal her guilt. "We have been happy during the few months of our wedded life, but that is a thing of the past. Henceforth mine will be a dark, hopeless existence, while yours, I trust, may be as pleasant as it has. .h.i.therto been; for though you have dishonoured me, I love you too well, even now, to wish any calamity should ever befall you."

"No, Frank, don't leave me. I could not bear it!" she shrieked, bursting into a torrent of tears. "I have told you the truth--I have, by heaven! It is my terrible misfortune that I am unable to explain who that man was, and from the same cause it has not been possible for me to acquaint you with anything relating to my past. Wait patiently for a little, and I promise you faithfully--I swear you shall know everything."

She was terribly in earnest, I could see; her whole future depending upon my decision that moment. It was the secret of her life I was anxious to learn beyond anything, and I asked:

"How long must I wait?"

She gazed at me for a few seconds blankly, apparently making some calculation.

"Three weeks. Wait till then before you condemn me--do, I implore of you!"

What ingenious motive could there be in thus gaining time, I asked myself. Could it be that in three weeks' time the murderer would be safely out of the country?