"Such a course would only bring his wrath down upon my head. He would retaliate quickly, and I alone would suffer."
"But, my dear Gabrielle," he exclaimed, "you really speak in enigmas. Whatever can you fear from a man who is known to be a blackguard—whom I could now, at this very moment, expose in such a manner that he would never dare to set foot in Perthshire again?"
"Such a course would be most injudicious, I assure you. His ruin would mean—it would mean—my—own!"
"I don't follow you."
"Ah, because you do not know my secret—you——"
"Your secret!" the young man gasped, staring at her, yet still holding her trembling form in his strong arms. "Why, what do you mean? What secret?"
"I—I cannot tell you!" she exclaimed in a hard, mechanical voice, looking straight before her.
"But you must," he protested.
"I—I asked you, Walter, to make me a promise," she said, her voice broken by emotion—"a promise that, for the sake of the love you bear for me, you will not believe that man, that you will disregard any allegation against me."
"And I promise, on one condition, darling—that you tell me in confidence what I, as your future husband, have a just right to know—the nature of this secret of yours."