Thus appealed to by Marvel, I replied firmly:
“We must shield the guilty, Marvel, in order to protect the innocent. You wouldn’t like to have Lady Elizabeth’s death on your conscience, would you?”
“God forbid!”
“Then you and I, faithful friend, must breathe a word of this business to no one. And we must do all we can to prevent others from learning the terrible secret. It is a heavy burden you have put upon my shoulders, Marvel. I can only hope your burden has been eased a little in the telling, and that you will not think it necessary to share it with any one else.”
“I give you my Bible oath, Miss Dora, that not a living soul shall hear me speak of this thing but you. The weight of the secret was choking me, but, as you say, a burden shared by somebody else of like mind is half rolled away.”
“And yet you have something else to tell me. What do you mean by saying that the earl has bad nights? Is he still likely to betray himself?”
“I think not; for, when awake, he knows quite well what he is saying. But his conscience is tormenting him to his doom. He cannot live long and suffer as he is doing. Sleep refuses to visit him, except when he takes an opiate, and every night the dose has to be made bigger, or it has no effect. A fine state of mind for a man to be in who is going to be married next month.”
“Next month?”
“Yes, on the fifteenth.”
“In London?”