"But you reserve to yourself the right not to believe me? That is what you mean?" The man's stubborn, vindictive look answered. "Then I will deny nothing to you; nothing! You may think what you will." His face half-covered by his hand, the Governor gazed at them; the girl, straight, slender, inflexibly poised; the prisoner eying her with dark, unvarying glance. "_Dieu!_" he muttered. "What is this?" and concern gave way to a new feeling. _Her_ concern for something--somebody--held him. A promise! "You can step back a few moments, my man!" to Sanchez. "A little farther--to the parapet! I'll let you know when you're wanted." And the prisoner obeyed, moving slowly away to the wall, where he stood out of ear-shot, his back to them. "You spoke of a promise?" the Governor turned to his daughter. "To whom?" A suggestion of color swept her face, though she answered at once without hesitation: "To the Black Seigneur." The slight form of the Governor stirred as to the shock of a battery. "There is no harm in telling now," hurriedly she went on. "He saved me from the 'grand' tide--for I was on Saladin's back when he bolted and ran. I had not dismounted, though I allowed you to infer so, and he had carried me almost to the island of Casque when we heard and saw the water coming in. The nearest place was the island--not the point of the mainland, as I felt obliged to lead you to think, and we started for it; we might have reached the cove, had not Saladin stumbled and thrown me. The last I remembered the water came rushing around, and when I awoke, I was in a watch-tower, with him--the Black Seigneur!" The Governor looked at her; did not speak. "I--I at first did not know who he was--not until this man came--and the priest! And when he, the Black Seigneur, saw I had learned the truth, he asked me to promise--not for himself--but because of this man!--to say nothing of having met him there, or the others! And I did promise, and--he sent me back--and that is all--" "All!" Did the Governor speak the word? He sat as if he had hardly comprehended; a deeper flush dyed her cheek. "You--you can not blame me--after what he did. He saved me--saved my life. You are glad of that, mon père, are you not? And it must have been hard doing it, for his clothes were torn, and his hands were bleeding--he can't be all bad, _mon père_! He knew who I was, yet trusted me--trusted!" The Governor looked at her; touched a bell; the full-toned note vibrated far and near. "What are you going to do?" Something in his face held her. Again the tones startled the stillness. "Remember, it is I who am responsible for--" "Your Excellency?" Across the court appeared Beppo, moving quickly toward them. "Your Excellency?" "One moment!" The servant stepped back; the Governor looked first at the girl; then toward the entrance of the cloister.