“I am overpowered by a terrible fate,” said Nancy slowly. “You know what a strange man my father was. You must have guessed that we, he and I, always carried a secret with us. It was a terrible secret and it ruined my father’s life—it ruined my life also. For six long years I have been a miserable girl.” “You shall be a happy woman for the rest of your days, to make up for those six years of misery.” “Adrian, you must hear me out.” “Walk up and down with me, sweetheart; you’ll catch cold if you stand still.” Rowton stole his strong arm round Nancy’s waist; they walked in front of the old Grange. Nancy soon found her head resting against her lover’s shoulder. “Now we can talk,” he said, “but I defy you to say much about parting while I am as near to you as I am now; out with your secret, my wild bird, we’ll share it.” “That’s just it—I cannot tell it to you.” “What! not even to your husband?” “You are not my husband yet.” “I shall be in a week; won’t you tell me your secret then?” “Never—never on this side eternity.” “Is it so bad as all that?” “Yes, it is ghastly, terrible.” Rowton gave vent to a long, significant whistle. “Tell me what you can,” he said after a pause. “I cannot say much, Adrian. After you left me last night, father sent for me. He made me promise to do something terrible. He bound me down on pain of his curse to carry on the work which he had not time to finish. I struggled to refuse, but he frightened me into compliance. He even threatened to return as a ghost to haunt me if I would not yield to his wishes.” “The man must have been raving mad,” interrupted Rowton. “Mad or not, his words had power over me,” said Nancy. “He terrified me into submission. I promised him that I would keep his secret and would carry on his life work. Then, Adrian, he asked me not to marry—not to think of the lighter things of life until my task was accomplished.” “And you promised?” “No, I hesitated.” “You did well, for if you had promised fifty times you would have found yourself my wife before many days had gone by.” “Adrian, why are you so overmastering? You overpower me—you subdue me. Your power over me is greater even than my father’s was.” “That is as it should be,” said Rowton. “Now then, Nancy, let us to commonplace. I am truly sorry you are burdened with a secret, but if you think that secret is to keep us asunder you do not yet know your man. Listen, my child; I am going to tell you something strange. It so happens, my pretty wild bird, that your having a secret does not matter so terribly to me as it would to other men. I also, sweetheart, am the owner of a secret care. Nancy, my pretty child, I am not what I seem. I look one thing, but I am in reality something different. There, now, I have startled you, have I not? It would be comical to hear what you really think of me, from those red lips. What sort of a man do I seem, Nancy mine?”