“Your husband!”
“You must have known that I was married.” She seemed surprised at my agitation.
“I did not know.”
“This is Lord George Dacre. We have been married two years. There is no need to tell you how he wronged me. I left him and sought a refuge under my brother's roof. Up till to-day he has left me there unmolested. What I must above all things avoid is the chance of a duel betwixt my husband and my brother. It is horrible to think of. For this reason Lord Rufton must know nothing of this chance meeting of to-day.”
“If my pistol could free you from this annoyance——”
“No, no, it is not to be thought of. Remember your promise, Colonel Gerard. And not a word at High Combe of what you have seen!”
Her husband! I had pictured in my mind that she was a young widow. This brown-faced brute with his “go to blazes” was the husband of this tender dove of a woman. Oh, if she would but allow me to free her from so odious an encumbrance! There is no divorce so quick and certain as that which I could give her. But a promise is a promise, and I kept it to the letter. My mouth was sealed.
In a week I was to be sent back from Plymouth to St. Malo, and it seemed to me that I might never hear the sequel of the story. And yet it was destined that it should have a sequel and that I should play a very pleasing and honourable part in it.
It was only three days after the event which I have described when Lord Rufton burst hurriedly into my room.
His face was pale and his manner that of a man in extreme agitation.