She seemed somewhat reassured, and drew a long breath.
‘I had a sister of your name.’
She raised her head, and looked at him with surprise.
‘It is an uncommon name. My poor sister is gone. I suppose it is your name that has attracted me to you, that induces me to open my heart to you. I mean to confide to you my troubles. You say that you do not know me. I will tell you all my story, and then, sweet Eve, you will indeed know me, and, knowing me, will shower tears of precious pity, that will infinitely console me.’
She was still trembling, but flattered, and relieved that he asked for nothing save sympathy. That of course she was at liberty to bestow on a deserving object. She was wholly inexperienced, easily deceived by flattery.
‘Have I frightened you?’ asked Martin. ‘Am I so dreadful, so unsightly an object as to inspire you with aversion and terror?’ He drew himself up and paused. Eve hastily looked at him. He was a strikingly handsome man, with dark hair, wonderful dark eyes, and finely chiselled features.
‘I said that I put my life in your hands. I spoke the truth. You have but to betray me, and the police and the parish constables will come in a posse after me. I will stand here with folded arms to receive them; but mark my words, as soon as they set foot on this rock, I will fling myself over the edge and perish. If you sacrifice me, my life is not worth saving.’
‘I will not betray you,’ faltered Eve.
‘I know it. You are too noble, too true, too heroic to be a traitress. I knew it when I came here and placed myself at your mercy.’
‘But,’ said Eve timidly, ‘what have you done? You have taken my ring. Give it back to me, and I will not send the constables after you.’