“No, my lady,” I answered quietly; “that is where you are wrong. I do not know the contents of this paper, because I have not opened it.”
Still she gazed at me as if she did not understand. On a sudden she drew a step nearer, and I saw the colour fade from her face. Doubtless until this moment she had thought that I had already made use of it—had placed it in the hands of the authorities.
“You—you have not opened it?” she said in a troubled voice.
“No, madam,” I answered. “Scarcely can I expect you to believe me, yet on my honour as a gentleman it is the truth.”
“Then—then—you mean——” she faltered, resting both hands upon the table and leaning forward, probing my eyes as if she would read my soul.
I met her gaze unflinchingly.
“The names that this paper contains are known to you, madam?” I replied quietly.
“Yes,” she whispered; and I saw that she was trembling.
“Then, my lady,” I answered firmly, stepping to the table and holding the paper in the flame of the nearest candle until only a little feathery ash remained, “I give the lives of these gentlemen to you. Your secret is your own.”
“You give them to me, sir?” she cried passionately. “You do this for me? Ah, Mr. Cassilis, why do you shame me so?”