“Now, Sarah, that is pure obstinacy. I know that there is something more. You could, for example, tell me why it was that your mistress was startled when she beheld Paul Rogers acting as valet to her brother—and you could also explain why you were almost, if not quite, as much astonished yourself.”
“One might suppose that you were present at the time, sir.”
“Sarah, you were in Europe with your mistress while she was at school there; you know perfectly well that you both knew Paul Rogers at that time, and you know that you would not have known him in a way to have affected you when you saw him again, if his position at that time had been in accordance with his valethood, later; and, therefore, you know that Paul Rogers was not his true name any more than valet was his true position. Who was he when you knew him in Europe, Sarah?”
“There is nothing more that I can tell, sir.”
“Not even to save your mistress from probable peril?”
“Not even to save her from positive death, sir,” she said, and her lips shut tightly together over her teeth.
“What!” exclaimed Nick. “Is it so serious as all that? This is worse than I supposed. You are keeping the secret because your mistress has sworn you to secrecy, and has charged you never to tell, even to save her life or your own. Is it not so?”
“I have nothing more to tell, sir.”
“All right. If you won’t, you won’t, and I see that you are determined to say no more. But, all the same, Sarah, I will find a way to make you speak, or I will discover what I wish to know in some other manner. You may return to the Fells now. I shall be there in the morning.”
Sarah rose to her feet and started toward the door, but before she had crossed the room she stopped and began to sob.