“You are mistaken,” answered the woman, in the same tongue, as she seated herself on the trunk. “I do not wish to rob you. I wish to tell you a story—that is all.”
Laura Stanbridge trembled. She began to suspect that she had fallen into the hands of a mad woman. But by a miraculous effort she recovered her self-possession and said quietly, “Very well, I shall be glad to hear what you have to say, but you need not have tied me. Unloose me first.”
“No, madam, I must not unloose you, for when you have heard my story you will try to run away.”
“I swear I will not attempt to do anything of the sort. I pledge my word as to this.”
“I do not choose to take your word.”
“Why not?”
“For many reasons. I do not intend to let you escape.”
Laura was bewildered.
The tones of this woman’s voice were firm and menacing, and she fancied they were not unfamiliar to her.
She remembered also the rustic accent with which she had at first cloaked her words, and which must have been used for the purpose of deceiving her.