At this moment the door opened; and one of the Black’s dependants entered the room.
“The woman Bunce, sir,” he said, “is most anxious to communicate something to you before she quits London. She declares that she has a secret preying upon her mind——”
“A secret?” exclaimed the Black.
“Yes, sir—a secret which she says she must reveal to you, as it is too heavy for her heart to bear. She cried a great deal, and implored me to come to you.”
“Doctor,” said the Blackamoor, after a few moments’ profound reflection, “you know wherefore I do not wish that woman to behold my features—even though they be thus disguised. During her incarceration I never spoke to her save through the trap of her dungeon door; and since she has been an inmate of the house I have not visited her. It will be as well to continue this precaution: do you, then, hasten to her and receive the confession, whatever it be, which she has to make.”
“Willingly,” replied Lascelles; and he followed the servant from the room.
CHAPTER CXII.
THE CONVERSATION CONCLUDED.
Upwards of a quarter of an hour had elapsed, when Dr. Lascelles returned to the apartment in which he had left the Blackamoor.
“Yes,” exclaimed the physician, throwing himself into the chair which he had recently occupied; “that woman is indeed penitent—truly penitent!”
“What proof have you acquired of this fact, doctor?” demanded the Black.