Suddenly he plucked me by the sleeve in a quiet street through which we were passing; I turned suddenly, and faced him. As he shrank away from me, my rage overmastered me, and I caught him by the throat and forced him to his knees.
"Where are you driving me?" I demanded hoarsely. "Is not once enough, in a lifetime such as yours, to strive to ruin a woman; is there no mercy in your black heart at all?"
"You don't understand," he faltered.
"I understand only too well," I retorted savagely. "Was it for this you met me when I came from prison; was it for this that you have drawn me on and on, until I am as desperately involved in this business as yourself? What of your lying promises—your pleadings that I would trust you?"
"Indeed—indeed I only mean well—indeed I want to help her!" he exclaimed, staggering to his feet, and trying to pull my hands away from his collar. "I can't tell you; I can't explain."
"The dead woman you have seen—whose eyes have looked into yours—did she teach you nothing?" I demanded.
He suddenly covered his face with his hands, and shuddered. "She taught me something I shall not forget," he whispered. "Only I must go on and on; I dare not look back. I have set my hand to something, and I will not stop now!" He raised his haggard face to the sky, and if I had not had that desperate hatred of him in my heart, I must have been moved by the strange look upon it.
"No, you will not turn back, until you have brought this child to ruin and disgrace," I said. "But it may be given to me to spoil your game yet; this new move on the part of Olivant may lead to something he has not reckoned upon—or you either."
"Yes, it may," he said; and he seemed to shudder again.
A clock near at hand in a church tower struck three over the sleeping city. I told Fanshawe I would not go back with him then; I would walk the streets until daylight. He tried to dissuade me from that, but seeing that I had made up my mind he presently turned away, and set off towards his lodging. I tramped the streets until dawn—staring now and then into the faces of poor wanderers that flitted past me, in the vain hope of seeing the girl; but there was no face like hers.