‘You thought wrong: he is not.’
‘He is not—I believe you—for he is more. I now am persuaded that he is your lawful husband. Can you deny it!’
‘I can.’
‘On your sacred word!’
‘On my sacred word he is not that either.’
‘Thank heaven for that assurance!’ said Louis, exhaling a breath of relief. ‘I was not so positive as I pretended to be—but I wanted to know the truth of this mystery. Since you are not fettered to him in that way I care nothing.’
Louis turned away; and that afforded her an opportunity for leaving the room. Those few words were the last grains that had turned the balance, and settled her doom.
She would let Swithin go. All the voices in her world seemed to clamour for that consummation. The morning’s mortification, the afternoon’s benevolence, and the evening’s instincts of evasion had joined to carry the point.
Accordingly she sat down, and wrote to Swithin a summary of the thoughts above detailed.
‘We shall separate,’ she concluded. ‘You to obey your uncle’s orders and explore the southern skies; I to wait as one who can implicitly trust you. Do not see me again till the years have expired. You will find me still the same. I am your wife through all time; the letter of the law is not needed to reassert it at present; while the absence of the letter secures your fortune.’