“No,” I answered, gravely. “Much as I desire to solve the enigma, I decline to entertain any such offer.”
“Then you, too, are my enemy!” she cried wildly, with a sudden fierceness, staggering back from me a few paces.
“I did not say so. I merely refused to be bribed to perjury,” I answered as she released my hands.
“And you will not help me?” she said, hoarsely, standing before me and twirling the ribbons of her gown between her nervous bejewelled fingers.
“I will assist you in any way I can, but I will not swear that I have not seen that man,” I replied.
“Ah! you are prejudiced,” she said with a deep sigh. Then in a meaning tone she added, “If you knew the secret that I am ready to divulge in exchange for your silence, you might perhaps have cause for prejudice.”
She uttered these words, I knew, for the sole purpose of intensifying my curiosity. It was a woman’s wile. Fortunately, however, I remained firm, and answered a trifle indifferently perhaps:
“If I can only learn the truth at such cost, then I prefer to seek a solution of the mystery from some other source.”
“Very well,” she said, her eyes suddenly flashing with suppressed anger at my blank refusal. “Very well. You refuse to render me a service, therefore I decline to impart to you knowledge that would place your enemies within your power. Speak the truth if you will, but I tell you that ere long you will regret your refusal to enter into the compact I have suggested—you will come to me humbly—yes, humbly—and beg of me to speak.”
“Of what?”