Cesarine,
now--Cesarine we have liked and trusted. She has betrayed our trust.
She has sold us to this fellow. I have no doubt at all that she
gave him the diamonds from Amelia's riviere; that she took us by
arrangement to meet him at Schloss Lebenstein; that she opened and
sent to him my letter to Lord Craig-Ellachie. Therefore, I say, we
_ought_ to arrest Cesarine. But not White Heather--not Jessie; not
that pretty Mrs. Quackenboss. Let the guilty suffer; why strike at
the innocent--or, at worst, the misguided?"
"Charles," I exclaimed, with warmth, "your sentiments do you honour.
You are a man of feeling. And White Heather, I allow, is pretty
enough and clever enough to be forgiven anything. You may rely upon
my discretion. I will swear through thick and thin that I do not
recognise this woman as Madame Picardet."
Charles clasped my hand in silence. "Seymour," he said, after
a pause, with marked emotion, "I felt sure I could rely upon
your--er--honour and integrity. I have been rough upon you
sometimes. But I ask your forgiveness. I see you understand the
whole duties of your position."
We went out again, better friends than we had been for months.
I hoped, indeed, this pleasant little incident might help to
neutralise the possible ill-effects of the ten per cent disclosure,
should Finglemore take it into his head to betray me to my employer.
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