“If it were not for distressing you, I should say that I wish he would attack me. I would give him a lesson that would last his life, the cowardly villain! I would begin by lashing him like a whipped hound until he cried for mercy. You shall not leave here, Lady Pelham!”
She sank back, faint and trembling.
“The disgrace,” she said, piteously; “think of the disgrace and the shame!”
“It shall recoil upon him!” he cried. “Such injustice shall not be done. You are happy here, Lady Pelham, and here you shall remain. For your sake, I will discontinue my visits, or make them at such long intervals that they cannot raise suspicion in a detective’s mind. But you shall not go. I hope I may see the man who dares to act the spy upon you. He shall have cause to remember my name. Do not tremble, do not fear; you are safe here as though you were in the sanctuary of your mother’s home.”
She looked at him, tears shining in her eyes.
“Have I found a friend and protector at last? I thank Heaven, for if any one sorely needs such a friend, I am that one. You are very good to me; you believe in me, Mr. Eyrle—you believe in my innocence?”
“As I believe in Heaven,” he replied, reverently. “You have trusted me; you shall find that your trust is not in vain. I will befriend you, yet so as not to injure you. Before I go, promise me that you will not make any attempt to go from here.”
“I promise,” she said, thoughtfully.
“Trust me,” he continued. “The best thing for you and the worst for himself would be that your husband should renew the attack with me for his opponent. Have no fear, Lady Pelham.”
“You will keep my story a secret—that is, you will tell my real name to no one?”