A sudden flash of recollection passed through Oliver's mind, a sudden inspiration came to him. "Promise by this," he cried, in a ringing voice—
.
and he drew the figure which he had seen depicted upon the red line around the door-way at the bottom of the stone steps—the line that had kept back Gaspard and his master like a wall of adamant. The other's face grew as black as thunder. There was a sharp click—he had crushed the glass in his hand to fragments. A drop of blood fell from his palm upon the table-cloth, but he did not seem to notice it.
"Promise by that?" said he, a little hoarsely.
"Yes," said Oliver; "by that sign."
The other swallowed as though a hard lump were in his throat. "Very well," said he; "I promise."
Oliver saw that the promise would be kept. He closed the window near to which he stood. When he turned around, the other's face was smooth and smiling again.
"And now sit down," said he, "and let us finish our little supper, then I will tell you the story of those rooms yonder, and of the dead lady whom you found there."