Viola advanced slowly towards the table, took up the pen, and seemed to be about to affix her signature to the deed, when—as if suddenly recollecting herself—she turned towards the stock-broker, and exclaimed, "What guarantee have I that my freedom is to follow this concession on my part?"
"To-morrow evening, at dusk, you shall be conveyed home," exclaimed Chichester, seeing that Tomlinson gave no answer.
"And why not this evening—now—the moment that document is signed?"
"Because I should prefer laying my hand on the money first," was the reply.
"Mr. Tomlinson," cried the lady, "I have more confidence in you than in either of these men: I am willing even to believe that some circumstance, unknown to me, compels you unwillingly to become their instrument on this occasion."
"By heavens, you speak the truth, madam!" ejaculated Tomlinson, warmly.
"I believe you. Now, sir, promise me on your most solemn word of honour—by every thing you consider sacred—- that to-morrow evening at nine o'clock I shall be released from this dungeon."
"I promise—I swear that you shall be conveyed home to-morrow evening at nine o'clock," answered Tomlinson. "But, in return, madam, will you pledge yourself as solemnly that your lips shall ever remain closed with regard to this proceeding?"
"Oh! yes—I do—I do," answered the poor creature, clasping her hands together—for she could even feel grateful to the man who, while leagued with others against her, yet pledged himself to her release from that horrible cell.
"Secresy on all sides is one of the conditions of the present arrangement," said Chichester.