"He said that if I took his tip I shouldn't stand upon the order of
my going, but go at once, and go as far as possible between now and
to-morrow."
She put both hands to her left side, as if unconscious that she had a
plate in one and a teaspoon in the other.
"Rodney! Then--then--what are you going to do?"
"Nothing."
"But if he tells?"
"Tells what?"
"He said to me last night that if anyone knows that--that someone has
killed a person, and doesn't at once inform the police, that's being
an accessory after the fact."
"Well? He was merely acquainting you with what I take is a legal
truism."
"Then he said that, whatever I might choose to do, he did not mean to
be an accessory, either before the fact or after. Then he looked at me
in such a way--I knew what he meant--and he went right off to bed
without saying another word."
"What had you been talking about?"
"About--your uncle."
"Had he introduced the subject or had you?"
"He had; he would keep talking about it. Rodney, he knows, and--he's
going to tell."
"Then, in that case, it looks as if you will gain little by becoming
my wife, and that I shall gain nothing."
"Rodney, I want you to get out of your head what I said the other
night. I don't want to force you to marry me, and I never did."
"Then you've rather an unfortunate way of expressing yourself, don't
you think so, my dear Mabel?"
"I--I didn't know how else to do what I wanted to do. It's quite true
that if I'm not going to be your wife I'll kill myself; but that
doesn't matter--I'd just as soon die as live. But I do want to save
you, and the only way I can do it is for you to marry me."
"That may keep you from playing the tell-tale, but how is it going to
affect Mr. Dale?"
"He won't tell if I'm your wife."
"Won't he? Why? I should have thought, if your story's correct, that
he'd have told all the more, that disappointment would have inflamed
him to madness."
Rodney, as he said this, struck a match to light his pipe, and
laughed. Nothing could have seemed less like laughter than the girl's
white face and haunted eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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