Editha saw that there was no way but to yield, and a feeling of thankfulness stole over her, despite her terror at finding herself again in the wretch’s power, that she had concealed John Loker’s confession early in the evening.
She signified her assent to the villain’s terms by a motion of her head.
“Honor bright?” he asked, adding, fiercely: “I’ll choke you instanter if you attempt to make any disturbance.”
She nodded again, and he at once released his hold of her.
“Now, little Miss Pluck,” he resumed, “what have you done with that paper I asked you for once before? I want it, and I’m going to have it. Do you hear?”
Editha did hear, and the lines about her small mouth settled into an expression of unyielding firmness.
“You don’t mean to give it to me, hey?” he demanded, reading aright her look.
She was too weak and excited from fright to speak, but she shook her head resolutely.
“But I tell you I’m going to have it, my lady, or it’ll be the worse for you.”
A bright thought darted into her mind, and she immediately acted upon it.