“How had you the heart to let me go back when you could get me away so easily?” said she, after a time, in a reproachful tone.
“I could not save you then,” answered he, “without open violence. I wished to defer that for the accomplishment of a purpose which you know. But I secured your safety, for all the servants at Brandon Hall are in my pay.”
“What! Vijal too?”
“No, not Vijal; he was incorruptible; but all the others. They would have obeyed your slightest wish in any respect. They would have shed their blood for you, for the simple reason that I had promised to pay each man an enormous sum if he saved you from any trouble. They were all on the look out. You never were so watched in your life. If you had chosen to run off every man of them would have helped you, and would have rejoiced at the chance of making themselves rich at the expense of Potts. Under these circumstances I thought you were safe.”
“And why did you not tell me?”
“Ah! love, there are many things which I must not tell you.”
He sighed. His sombre tone brought back her senses which had been wandering. She struggled to get away. He would not release her.
“Let me go!” said she. “I am of the accursed brood—the impure ones! You are polluted by my touch!”
“I will not let you go,” returned he, in a tone of infinite sweetness. “Not now. This may be our last interview. How can I let you go?”
“I am pollution.”