"No, no!" she cried. "Do not put me from you, Gerald! I cannot bear
it--indeed I can't! You must have recognised the truth long ago--" and
she paused. Then, lowering her voice until it was only a hoarse
whisper, she added, "The truth that I love you!"
I looked at her in blank amazement, scarce knowing what to reply. I had
admired her just as half Paris had admired her, but I certainly had
never felt a spark of deep affection for her.
"Ah!" she went on, reading my heart in an instant, "you despise me for
this confession. But I cannot help it. I love you, Gerald, as I have
never before loved a man. In return for your love I can offer you
nothing--nothing save one thing," she added in a strange, mechanical
voice, almost as though speaking to herself. "In return for your love I
can save your country from the grievous peril in which it is now
placed."
She offered me her secret in return for my love! The thing was
incomprehensible. I stood there dumbfounded.
"This is a moment of foolishness, Leonie. We are both at fault," I
said, as soon as I again found tongue. "Think of the difference in our
stations--you a princess, and I a poor diplomatist! I am your friend,
and hope to remain so always--but not your lover."
"But I love you!" she cried fiercely, raising her blanched and pitiful
face until her lips met mine. The passion of love was in her heart.
"You may despise me, Gerald; you may cast me from you; you may hate me;
but in the end you will love me just as intensely as I love you. To
endeavour to escape me is useless. Since the die is cast, let us make
the compact now, as I have already suggested. I have confessed to you
openly. I am yours, and I implore of you to give me your love in
return. You are mine, Gerald--mine only!"