“If I am in a position, what then?”
“Then, perhaps, after a few days visit to an interesting, but little explored part of Holland, you might return to your friends as you left them—in short as a single woman.”
A struggle shook Elsa, and do what she would some trace of it appeared in her face.
“Do you swear that?” she whispered.
“Most certainly.”
“Do you swear before God that if you have this clue you will not force me into a marriage with the Heer Adrian, or with yourself—that you will let me go, unharmed?”
“I swear it—before God.”
“Knowing that God will be revenged upon you if you break the oath, you still swear?”
“I still swear. Why these needless repetitions?”
“Then—then,” and she leant towards him, speaking in a hoarse whisper, “believing that you, even you, will not dare to be false to such an oath, for you, even you, must fear death, a miserable death, and vengeance, eternal vengeance, I give you the clue: It lies in the hilt of the sword Silence.”