"Speak, sir," said Lascelles; "and if your request be not inconsistent with my honour as a physician and as a gentleman——"
"Far from it!" exclaimed Rainford. "It is this:—Promise me, on your solemn word of honour, as a physician and as a gentleman, that, when once your professional visits here have ceased, you will forget that you ever beheld that young woman who is lying in the next room. Promise me, I say, in the most binding manner, that should you ever henceforth meet her, alone or in company, you will not even appear to recognise her, much less attempt to speak to her, unless you be formally introduced to her, when you will consider your acquaintance with her to begin only from the moment of such introduction. Promise me all this, sir, I implore you—for you know not what vitally important interests may be compromised by your conduct in this matter."
"I have not the slightest objection to tranquillise your mind by giving the pledge which you demand," returned Dr. Lascelles, without a moment's hesitation.
"A thousand thanks, sir!" cried Rainford joyfully. "You fully understand the precise nature of the reserve and silence which I require?"
"Never to allude in any way to the incident of this night, nor to appear to recognise elsewhere nor henceforth the young lady whom I have just seen," said the doctor. "You may rely upon me: the secret shall never transpire from my lips."
"Again I express my gratitude," cried Rainford, with undisguised satisfaction.
Dr. Lascelles then took his leave; and, as he retraced his way to Grafton Street, he never once ceased to think of the strange promise which he had been required to give in respect to the beautiful creature who had made so resolute an attempt upon her own existence.
On the following morning, shortly after eight o'clock, the physician's cab stopped at the door of the house in South Moulton Street; but, to his surprise, he learnt from the landlady that Mr. and Mrs. Jameson (by which names Rainford and the young woman had been known at their lodgings) had taken their departure at seven o'clock, before it was even light.
"Had they resided long with you?" inquired the doctor.
"Only a week, sir," was the answer. "The lady kept herself very quiet, and seldom went out. When she did, she always had a thick black veil over her face; and, you may think it strange, sir—but it's true for all that—which is, sir, that I never once caught a glimpse of her countenance all the time she was in this house. But the servant-gal says she was very beautiful—very beautiful indeed! You must, however, be able to judge whether that report is true or not, sir?"