Page:Gibbs--The yellow dove.djvu/103

 “Yes. There must be other reasons why they can’t. What is the contest between you and Rizzio? Tell me. Tell me everything! I will believe you. Haven’t I kept your trust? If I could do that—for your sake—do you not think that I could keep silent for England’s sake?”

Her arms were about his neck, and her lips very close to his, but he turned his head away so that the temptation might not be too strong for him.

“I can’t,” he muttered, “I cannot speak—even to you. I am sworn to secrecy.”

She drooped upon his arms and then moved away despairingly. It was the failure of the appeal of her femininity that condemned him.

“Oh, you won’t let me believe in you. You won’t let me. It’s too great a test you’re asking of me. Everything is against you—but the worst witness is your silence!”

He stood by the mantel, his head lowered.

“It is hard for you—hard for us both,” he said softly, “but I can’t tell you anythin’—anythin’.” He raised his head and looked at her with pity. She had sunk upon the divan, her head upon her arms in a despair too deep for tears.

He crossed and laid his hand gently upon her shoulder.

“You must trust in me if you can. I will try to be worthy of it. That’s all I can say.” He paused. “And now you must go to bed. You’re a bit fagged. Perhaps in the mornin’ you’ll pull up a bit and see things differently.”

She straightened slowly and their eyes met for a moment. His never wavered, and she saw that they were very kind, but she rose silently and without offer-