Well--I agreed.
Yes--I agreed to pose as the hard-working compositor upon a daily
newspaper and husband of the Honourable Sybil Burnet, the woman by whose
hand the unknown man had fallen.
At first I hesitated, refusing to compromise her, yet she had fallen
upon her knees imploring me to help her, and I was bound to fulfil the
promise I had so injudiciously made.
There was no love between us now, she had declared. The flame had
flickered and died out long ago.
"If you will only consent to act as though I were your wife, then I may
be able to save myself," she urged. "You will do so, will you not?"
"But why?" I had asked. "I cannot see how our pretended marriage can
assist you?"
"Leave it all to me," was her confident reply. "One day you will
discern the reason."
And then, with tears in her beautiful eyes, and kneeling at my feet, she
begged again of me to act as she suggested and thus save her life.
So I consented. Yes--you may say that I was foolish, that I was
injudicious, that I was still beneath the spell of her exquisite grace
and matchless beauty. Perhaps I was: yet I tell you that at the moment
so stunned was I by the tragedy, by what Eric had revealed, and by her
midnight visit, that I hardly knew what I did.
"Very well, Sybil," I said at last. "Let it be so. I will help you to
escape, and I will act as though I were your husband. For your sake I
will do this, although I tell you plainly that I see in it a grave and
deadly peril."
"There is a far greater peril if I remain unmarried," she answered.
"You recollect my question this afternoon. I asked whether you would
not really marry me. I asked because I feared that the blow might fall,
and that I should have to seek protection."
"And the blow has fallen?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered, in a low, desperate voice. "And were it not for
you I--I should go to my room now and kill myself, Wilfrid! You,
however, have promised to save me. There is no time to lose. I must
get away at once. You will help me to get out the car?"
"Of course. And you will take Mason? You must take her," I added.
"Why?"
"Because it is dangerous for her to remain here. She may raise the
alarm," I said, rather lamely. "Take my advice and carry her with you
down to Bournemouth."
"Very well," she answered, hurriedly, and raising my hand to her soft
lips, kissed it before I could prevent her, and said, "Wilfrid, let me
thank you. You have given me back my life. An hour ago I was in my
room and made preparations to bid adieu to everything. But I thought of
you--my last and only chance of salvation. Ah! you do not know--no,
no--I--I can never tell you! I can only give you the thanks of a
desperate and grateful woman!" And then she slipped out, promising to
meet me again there with Mason in a quarter of an hour.
I crept back to my room, and when I had closed the door Eric stepped
from his hiding-place.
"She intends to fly," I explained. "She is going away on the car, and I
have persuaded her to take Mason."
"On the car? At this hour?"
In brief I explained all that had taken place between us, and he
listened to me in silence till the end.
"What?" he cried. "You are actually going to make people believe that
you're her husband?"
"I'm going to make people in Camberwell believe it," I answered.
"But isn't that a very dangerous bit of business?" he queried. "Suppose
any of her people knew it. What would be said?"