Oh, do not ask
me to suspect any more!"
Tom was silent.
"Oh," she cried, after a moment's pause. "Oh, that we were back in
those old times I have read of, when they used to put people to the
torture to make them confess!"
"Why, in Heaven's name?"
"Because then I should have been tortured, and have confessed it, true
or false, in the agony, and have been hanged. They used to hang them
then, and put them out of their misery; and I should have been put out
of mine, and no one have been blamed but me for ever more."
"You forget," said Tom, lost in wonder, "that then I should have
blamed you, as well as every one else."
"True; yes, it was a foolish faithless word. I did not take it, and it
would have been no good to my soul to say I did. Lies cannot prosper,
cannot prosper, Mr. Thurnall!" and she stopped short again.
"What, my dear Grace?" said he, kindly enough; for he began to fear
that she was losing her wits.
"I saved your life!"
"You did, Grace."
"Then, I never thought to ask for payment; but, oh, I must now. Will
you promise me one thing in return?"
"What you will, as I am a man and a gentleman; I can trust you to ask
nothing which is not worthy of you."
Tom spoke truth. He felt,--perhaps love made him feel it all the more
easily,--that whatever was behind, he was safe in that woman's hands.
"Then promise me that you will wait one month, only one month: ask no
questions; mention nothing to any living soul.
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