h as they are to
me, and I want to know that you are sure of my truthfulness, if you
doubt all else. You see I speak plainly of what your love is to me,
for although, by remaining away, you made me fear I had been too
lavish with my favors--that is every woman's fear--I knew in my heart
you loved me; that you could not have done and said what you did
otherwise. Now you see what faith I have in you, and you a man, whom a
woman's instinct prompts to doubt. How does it compare with your faith
in me, a woman, whom all the instincts of a manly nature should
dispose to trust? It seems to be an unwritten law that a man may lie
to a woman concerning the most important thing in life to her, and be
proud of it, but you see even now I have all faith in your love for
me, else I surely should not be here. You see I trust even your
unspoken word, when it might, without much blame to you, be a spoken
lie; yet you do not trust me, who have no world-given right to speak
falsely about such things, and when that which I now do is full of
shame for me, and what I have done full of guilt, if inspired by aught
but the purest truth from my heart of hearts. Your words mean so
much--so much more, I think, than you realize--and are so cruel in
turning to evil the highest, purest impulse a woman can feel--the
glowing pride in self-surrender, and the sweet, delightful privilege
of giving where she loves. How can you? How can you?"

How eloquent she was! It seemed to me this would have melted the
frozen sea, but I think Brandon felt that now his only hope lay in the
safeguard of his constantly upheld indignation.

When he spoke he ignored all she had said.

"You did well to employ my Lord of Buckingham. It will make matters
more interesting when I tell you it was he who attacked you and was
caught by the leg under his wounded horse; he was lame, I am told, for
some time afterward. I had watched him following you from the gate at
Bridewell, and at once recognized him when his mask fell off during
the fight by the wall. You have done well at every step, I see."

"Oh, God; to think of it! Had I but known! Buckingham shall pay for
this with his head; but how could I know? I was but a poor, distracted
girl, sure to make some fatal error. I was in such agony--your
wounds--believe me, I suffered more from them than you could. Every
pain you felt was a pang for me--and then that awful marriage! I was
being sold like a wretched slave to that old satyr,