"Well, listen! There are reasons that make it impossible for me to be your wife, but"—holding his hands in a grasp like iron and looking into his eyes with an earnestness that was terrible—"it would kill me—to see—another—in the place—that honor—forbids me—to accept. Lynde! Lynde! promise me, swear to me that you will not make Evelyn Chandler your wife!"
She had arisen and was standing over him, her hands still holding his, her wild eyes gazing into his with a fierceness that was startling.
He arose slowly and stood before her.
"You wish me to break my word without cause!" he said, gently. "Give me some reason for it. Let me say to Miss Chandler that I have been mistaken, that I love another, and that that other will be my wife, with her permission, and I consent. How could I go to her and tell her that I must have my promise back without an excuse to offer?"
"I don't know; but if you love me, if you would save me from a madhouse, you will find a way. Lynde, promise me!"
"Tell me, Leonie, what had Evelyn Chandler to do with this robbery?"
He spoke the words slowly and impressively. She started, and for the moment seemed about to faint, but quickly recovered herself.
"Nothing!" she answered, in a ghastly sort of whisper.
"Don't you know that they will force it from you upon the witness stand? Don't you know that the most minute examination will be made into your life and antecedents and hers? Do you think you can conceal a fact from these men where a family like that is concerned? Why, there will not be an incident from your birth to the present day that they will not discover——"
"Hush! You are driving me mad! I will find a way to prevent that if I must seek death to do it. Oh, my God——"