I remembered Tom's powers of memory, however, for which he had always been remarkable at school, and I knew that the account he gave me was not far from correct, and I begged him to go on. "At length she turned to him again," continued Tom. "'I am going to show,' she said, 'that I believe Mr. Blake innocent. You asked me for love; that I cannot give you. I do not love you, I never shall love you; but such is my belief in Mr. Blake's innocence that I promise you this: if he is not proved to be guiltless within a year, I will marry you.' "He leapt to his feet, as if to embrace her. "'No,' she said; 'you have not heard all my conditions. Within that year you are not to see me or communicate with me.' "'But,' he cried, 'if Kaffar is dead, if these terrible evidences of murder are real, then in a year--say next Christmas Eve; 'twas on Christmas Eve we first met in England--then you will promise to be my wife?' "'I promise.' "'And your promise shall be irrevocable?' "She turned on him with scorn. 'The promise of a lady is ever irrevocable,' she said. "'Ah!' cried Voltaire, 'love is a stronger passion than vengeance, and my love will win yours.' "'Meanwhile,' she went on without noticing this rhapsody, 'if you breathe one word or utter one sound by which suspicion can fall on Mr. Blake, my promise is forfeited; if you stay here after to-morrow, or attempt to see me within this and next Christmas Eve, my promise is also forfeited.' "'What, am I to leave you at once?' "'At once.' "He left the room immediately after," said Tom, "while, after saying 'Good-night' to me, she too retired to her bedroom." To say that I was astonished at the turn things had taken would not give the slightest idea of my feelings. And yet a great joy filled my heart. The sword of Damocles, which seemed to hang over my head, possessed no terror. "Is that all, Tom?" I said at length. "This morning, as I told you, he arranged for Kaffar's luggage to be sent to Egypt, while he himself is preparing to depart." "Where is he going?" "To London." "And Miss Forrest?" "She, I hope, will stay with us for some time. But, Justin, can you really give no explanation of these things? Surely you must be able to?" "I cannot, Tom. I am hedged in on every side. I'm enslaved, and I cannot tell you how. My life is a mystery, and at times a terror." "But do you know what has become of Kaffar?" "No more than that dog barking in the yard. All is dark to me." Tom left me then, while I, with my poor tired brain, tried to think what to do. CHAPTER XIII A MESMERIST'S SPELL I found on entering the breakfast-room that my presence caused no surprise, neither did any of the guests regard me suspiciously. It had gone abroad that I had gone out to find Kaffar, but was unable to do so; and as Voltaire had publicly spoken of Kaffar's luggage being sent to Cairo, there was, to them, no mystery regarding him.