"Surely you trust me, Clifton?"
Her question drove home to me the fact that my suspicion was
ill-founded, and that jealousy in this affair was untimely and
unnecessary. I, however, could not rid myself of the thought that
Hibbert, this lover she had discarded, had attempted to wreak a deadly
revenge. All the circumstances pointed to it, for he would know the
whereabouts of my chambers, if not from Muriel previously, then from
Aline, that woman whom once in my hearing he had urged to the commission
of a crime.
"I trust you implicitly, Muriel," I answered. "But in this matter I am
determined that the man whose hand struck you down shall answer for his
crime to me."
"No, no!" she cried in alarm. "Don't act rashly, for your own sake, and
for mine. Wait, and I will ere long give you an explanation which I
know will astound you. To-day I cannot move in the matter because I am
not allowed out. When I can go out I will find a means of giving you
some explanation." Then, lifting her dark, trustful eyes to mine she
asked again, "Clifton, cannot you trust me? Will you not obey me in
this?"
"Certainly," I answered at last, with considerable reluctance I admit.
"If you promise me to explain, then I will wait."
"I promise," she answered, and her thin, white hand again clasped mine,
and our lips met to seal our compact.