"Oh, _stop_!" I plunged into the torrent of his talk. "You are making me--_sick_. Do you really believe I'd accept money from Jim Beckett's parents, and--marry you?"
He stared, round-eyed and hurt, like a misunderstood child. "But," he blundered on, "don't you see it's the only thing you can do--anyhow, to marry me? If you won't accept money, why it's a pity and a waste, but I want you enough to snap you up without a franc. You must marry me, dear. Think what I gave up for you!"
I burst out laughing. "What you gave up for me!"
"Yes. Have you forgotten already? If I hadn't fallen in love with you at first sight, and sacrificed myself and Dierdre for your good, wouldn't my sister have been in your place now, and you and your brother Lord knows where--in prison as impostors, perhaps?"
"According to you, my place isn't a very enviable one at present," I said. "But I'd rather be in prison for life than married to you. What a vision--what a couple!"
"Oh, I know having you for my wife would be a good deal like going to heaven in a strong mustard plaster; but I'd stand the smart for the sake of the bliss. If you won't marry me and if you won't take money from the Becketts, what will become of you? That's what I want to know! You can't stay on with them. You daren't risk going to their Château d'Andelle, as things are turning out. Herter's certainly in Germany--ideal man for a spy! If he runs across Jim Beckett, as he's trying to do, he'll move heaven and earth to help him escape. He must have influence, and secret ways of working things. He may have got at Jim before this for all we can tell. Muller let it leak out that he left Herter--somewhere--a week ago. A lot can happen in a week--to a Wandering Jew. The ground's trembling under your feet. You'll have to skip without Brian, without money, without----"
"I shall not stir," I said. "I can't leave Mrs. Beckett, I won't leave her! The only way I can atone even a little bit, is to stop and take care of her while she needs me, no matter what happens. When she finds out, she won't want me any longer. Then I'll go. But not before."
We glared at each other like two fencers through the veil of falling dusk. Suddenly I sprang up from the bench, remembering that, at least, I could escape from Julian, if not from the sword of Damocles. But he caught my dress, and held me fast.