"Yes, one that must be kept at all hazards, alas! Therefore promise not to cause inquiries to be made, or it will be myself who will be the sufferer. Do promise me this?" she implored. "If what you say is true," I replied, "you may rely upon my silence, though I think, in the interests of our friendship, you should tell me what you know." "I wish I could. I know I am not _hors de blame_, for I deceived you when I said I was under my uncle's thrall. It is true he holds power over me, but not in the way I suggested." "How, then?" "Ah, it is part of the secret. Some day, perhaps, you may know--not now. I had a set purpose in asking you to go to Russia to perform that commission you so kindly undertook, yet it was in desperation that I asked you--the man who was to have been my husband." "And I shall bitterly remember the experience until my dying day," I remarked. "Yes! it is only natural that you should feel disgusted at what you conceive is my treachery. It is but another result of the fatal step--I mean of the cursed circumstances in which I am placed. I cannot hope for your forgiveness, for I dare not explain. On every side," she exclaimed disconsolately, with a vehement gesture of the hands, "I am watched and surrounded, hemmed in with difficulties, absolutely prevented from--" "From telling me the object for which you sent me to Russia, when you knew it was a dangerous errand, likely to cost me my life? How can you expect that I should love you as I did with this terrible enigma unsolved?" She remained silent. For a moment I thought she was on the point of telling me all, when, with a look of piteous appeal, she threw herself at my knees and raised my hands to her lips. "Frank," she murmured, so low that it was only by bending forward that I could catch the words, "why do you ask? Is it because you love me, or-- or--is it from mere curiosity you inquire?" "Because I love you, Vera." "Then," raising her beautiful face to my own, with a smile of hope, "then--trust me, Frank, and, in the future, when things have altered, you shall know _all_!" "This is trifling," I said stiffly, raising her to her feet. "You ask me to trust you because I love you; if you care for me, why not trust me, and confide this trouble to one who would do so much for you?" "Cannot you wait, Frank, for--for even a short time? Can you never think that it was by pure force of circumstances that I was compelled to practise deceit towards you? I have known of your return since the day of the murder--that is--I mean since the first hour you set foot in England, but I had not the courage to face you because I knew I deserved forgiveness so little." "If this is all you have to say," I responded, rising, and taking up my stick and hat, as if going, "we may as well part. Force of circumstances may be compelling you to deceive me now."