“No. To-night. I must have your answer now, immediately. If you refuse, I leave by to-morrow’s steamer for England.”
There was a long silence, broken only by the low ticking of the marble clock and the distant strains of a waltz from the ball-room. Into his chair the haughty Governor-General of Algeria had sunk, and, resting his elbows upon the table, had buried his thin, pale face in his hands. I had spoken the truth! His terrible secret was in my keeping. Even at that moment I hated myself for promising to shield him from justice; yet I was determined to save Zoraida, cost what it might. Uzanne was in ignorance of my intention to seek the assassin. Would he regard this action as a breach of confidence?
The man before me, whoso reputation as a statesman was world-wide, and whose virtues were extolled in the journals all over Europe, had utterly broken down. He saw that if he connived at Zoraida’s escape, such indignation would be heaped upon him that he would be hounded from office; while on the other hand, if he refused, my threat of exposure undoubtedly meant the gallows. He recognised that I was determined, and was completely nonplussed.
“Henri, dear!” cried a voice outside the door. “Have you concluded your business? Do go and dress.”
Starting up wildly, he rushed to the door, and, turning the key, stood panting with his back against it.
“Yes, in five minutes—in five minutes I—I shall be at liberty,” he answered, with difficulty. Then we both listened, and heard a woman’s footsteps receding along the corridor.
“Have you decided?” I asked.
Again he tottered across the room to his chair.
“I—I have,” he gasped hoarsely, with bent head.
“What is your decision?”