"No; I am well aware that you were too cowardly to draw the knife across my throat. But you enticed me to dine with you: you put a narcotic into my wine and conveyed me to that house--for what purpose? Why, so that your cowardly accomplice might kill me." He was thoroughly alarmed.

She evidently knew the whole circ.u.mstances, and it was useless, he thought, to conceal the truth.

"If--if I admit all this, may I not ask your pardon--your mercy?"

"Mercy!" she repeated. "What mercy did you show me when I was helpless in your hands? Only by a mere vagary of Fate I am not now in my grave.

You thought you were safe--that your holy habiliments would prevent you being recognised as the man with whom I dined. But you made a great mistake, and I have found you."

"Will you not accept my apology?" he asked in a low voice.

"Upon one condition only."

"What is that?" he inquired eagerly.

"That you tell me the reasons which caused you to drug me, and the name of the scoundrel who a.s.sisted you," she replied calmly.

Their conversation was interrupted at this juncture by the reappearance of the verger, who inquired whether he would be wanted any more, as he had locked up the church, and was ready to go to his dinner. Holt replied in the negative, and the feeble old man departed, swinging his great bunch of jingling keys as he went.

When they were alone, the artist's model again referred to her stipulation, and pressed for an answer.

"No," he replied decisively, "I cannot tell you--I cannot."

"For what reason, pray?"

"The reason is best known to myself," he answered, endeavouring to a.s.sume an air of unconcern.

"You flatly refuse?"

"I do."

"In that case, then, I shall call the police, and have you arrested."

"No, my G.o.d! not that!" he cried; "anything but that."

"Ah, I can quite understand that police inquiries would be distasteful to you."

She paused, reflecting whether she should hazard a statement which she had overheard among other things in the conversation of her janitors at the lonely house near Twickenham.

At length she resolved to make an a.s.sertion, and watch its effect.

"If I'm not mistaken," she continued, regarding him closely, "the police are very desirous of interviewing you. They might like to hear some of your glib remarks about spiritual welfare, like those you made in the pulpit this morning."

"I don't understand you."

"If I speak plainer possibly you will. Some months ago a man was found dead on the railway. The affair is being investigated by the police, and--"

"G.o.d! You know of that!" he cried hoa.r.s.ely, as he rushed towards her, and gripped her white throat with his hands in a frenzy of madness.

"Speak lower--whisper--or--"

"No," urged Dolly, as coolly as she was able. "It would only add another crime to your list. Besides, if you comply with my stipulations, your secret will still be safe."

Her words had the desired effect. He released his hold, and, grasping her hand, pleaded forgiveness.

Flinging himself upon his knees before her, he pleaded for mercy, declaring that the injury he had done her was under sheer compulsion.

He admitted he was a base, heartless villain, undeserving of pity or leniency; still he implored forgiveness on the ground that he had been sufficiently punished by a remorseful conscience.

But Dolly was inexorable to his appeals, and turned a deaf ear to his expressions of regret. She had come there for a fixed purpose, which she meant to accomplish at all hazards. It was evident he had some connection with the crime which she had heard discussed by the man and woman who had kept her prisoner, and it was likewise apparent that he was in deadly fear of the police. The effect of her remark about the murder had been almost magical, and she was at a loss how to account for it.

"Your entreaty is useless," she said coldly, after a few moments'

reflection, stretching forth her hand and a.s.sisting him to his feet.

She despised the cringing coward. "Before you need hope for leniency, I desire to know where Hugh Trethowen is to be found."

"I don't know him. How should I know?" he stammered confusedly.

By his agitation she was convinced he was not telling the truth.

"Oh, perhaps you will tell me next that you are unacquainted with Mr.

Egerton, the artist," she observed, with a curious smile.

"I've met him once, I think," replied the curate, with feigned reflection.

"And you declare solemnly that you know nothing of Hugh Trethowen?" she asked incredulously.

He shook his head.

"Then you are speaking falsely," she said angrily; "and the sooner we understand each other the better. You believe me to be a weak girl, easily cajoled, but you'll discover your mistake, sir, when it's too late--when you have fallen into the clutches of the police and your crime has been exposed."

"Do you think I'm going to allow you to give information!" he cried fiercely, shaking his fist threateningly before her face.

This outburst of pa.s.sion did not intimidate her. Laughing, she said--

"I'm well aware that we are alone, and I'm completely in your power. If you are so anxious to murder me, you'd better set about it at once."

"Bah!" he exclaimed, turning from her with chagrin. "Why do you taunt me like this? Why did you come here and incite me to lay murderous hands upon you?"

"Merely because I desire some information--nothing more."

"Why do you seek it of me?"

"Because I know that with your a.s.sistance I can discover Hugh Trethowen.

But we have parleyed long enough. I ask you now, for the last time, whether you wish me to show you mercy--whether you will answer my questions in confidence?"

He drew a deep breath, and stood motionless, perplexed and hesitating.

They had emerged from the vestry, and were standing close to the altar.

About her fair face shone a stream of richest life. This came from the painted window above--three bars of coloured sunlight, that bathed the hair in fire and left the dark body in deepest shadow.

"By betraying the secret I should run a great risk--how great you have little idea."

"Will not the risk be greater if you refuse to answer me?" she asked, looking at him steadily.