"No, I can say nothing--not even to you, Godfrey."
"Why?" I cried, dismayed. "Why all this secrecy and mystery? Surely I
may, at least, know the man's name?"
"That I cannot tell you."
"Then he has forbidden you to reveal his real identity?"
She nodded in the affirmative.
"Which plainly shows that the fellow is in fear of something. He's
afraid of exposure in some way or other. I will not allow you, my own
dear love, to become the victim of this fellow!" I said fiercely. "He
may be an adventurer, for all you know--a man with an evil past. He
has, without doubt, ascertained that on your father's death Wichenford
will be yours. No, Ella, I will not allow you to marry this man who
forbids you to reveal his name."
"But what will you do?" she cried in alarm.
"What will I do? I will tell him to his face that you are mine--that he
has no right to you. And you will refuse to become his wife."
"Ah!--yes--but you must not do that," she declared. "Why not?"
"No. I beg of you to do nothing rash," she urged in breathless anxiety,
laying her hand upon my arm.
"But I will not allow you--my own well-beloved--to become the wife of
another!"
"Godfrey," she said, in so low a voice that it was scarcely above a
whisper, "you must. There is no way of escape for me."
"Then you are a victim of this nameless man!"
She nodded in the affirmative.
"Who is he? Tell me," I demanded. "I have a right to know."
"Yes, you have, indeed, a right, but I have given my word of honour to
say nothing. I cannot tell his name--even to you."
The mystery of it all somehow aroused my suspicions. Was she deceiving
me? Had she invented this nameless lover with some ulterior object? No
man can ever fathom the ingenuity of a woman who intends to deceive.
"Permit me to say so, Ella, but you are not frank with me," I exclaimed
reproachfully. "Why do you not tell me the whole truth, and allow me to
take what steps I think proper? Cannot you realise all I feel at the
thought of losing you again--for the second time? The past has been
black enough, but the future for me will be even darker if I go away in
the knowledge that you are the victim of a man unworthy of you. Tell
me, dearest, do you doubt my love?"
"No," she sighed. "I have never doubted it, Godfrey. I know how
passionate is your affection; that you love me truly and well. Yet it
is all to no purpose. We have met again, it is true, and under the
strangest circumstances. It would almost seem as though Fate has
brought us together, merely in order to tear us apart. For us, Godfrey,
there, alas! can be no happiness," she added sadly, with a deep-drawn
sigh.
"Why not?"
For a few moments she did not reply. I repeated my question, again
kissing the cold lips.
"Because--because," she faltered, "I am compelled to marry this man."
"He is compelling you, eh?" I asked, between my teeth.
"Yes."
"And may I not stand as your champion? May I, who love you so dearly,
extricate you from this trap?"
She shook her head slowly.
"It is not a trap, Godfrey," she answered. "Rather call it force of
circumstances. Those who told you I was dead lied to you, while I,
hearing nothing from you, naturally concluded that you had forgotten.
Therefore it is best for us to part again at once--to-night--for the
memories of the past are to us both too painful."
"Part from you, Ella!" I cried. "Never--never. You must be mad.
While you breathe and live I shall remain near you as your friend, your
protector, nay, your lover--the man who loves you better than his own
life!" I declared, taking her small hand and raising it reverently to
my lips. "It is cruel of you, darling, to suggest us parting."
"No, it is the more merciful to both of us. We must part--so the sooner
the better."
"You told me this on that never-to-be-forgotten night in London," I said
reproachfully. "Therefore I cannot think that you are now in earnest."
"I am, Godfrey," she declared quickly. "I do not deny to you that I
love you, but love between us is debarred. I am unhappy--ah! God alone
knows what trials I have borne--what horrors have been mine to witness--
and now to fill the cup of my grief I have met you only to find that you
still love me," she cried hoarsely, in a voice broken by emotion.