Judge, then, of my shame and desperation--my anger at being entrapped
in a false position involving the loss in your eyes of my personal
honour!
It was unbearable: and I did what I could to make it clear to you that
I had not betrayed you. But my comrades do not yet know that I had any
part in it; do not yet understand why the ship was not blown to
splinters. They are satisfied that I made a mistake in the rendezvous.
And, so far, no suspicion attaches to me; they believe the mechanism
of the clock failed them. And perhaps it is well for me that they
believe this.
It is, no doubt, a matter of indifference to you how the others and I
reached safety. I have no delusions concerning any personal and kindly
feeling on your part toward me. But one thing you can not--dare
not--believe, and that is that I proved treacherous to you and false
to my own ideas of honour.
And now let me say one more thing to you--let me say it out of
a--friendship--for which you care nothing--could not care anything.
And that is this: your task is accomplished. You could not possibly
have succeeded. There is no chance for recovery of those papers. Your
mission is definitely ended.
Now, I beg of you to return to America. Keep clear of entanglement in
these events which are beginning to happen in such rapid succession in
Europe. They do not concern you; you have nothing to do with them, no
interest in them. Your entry into affairs which can not concern you
would be insulting effrontery and foolish bravado.
I beg you to heed this warning. I know you to be personally
courageous; I suppose that fear of consequences would not deter you
from intrusion into any affair, however dangerous; but I dare hope
that perhaps in your heart there may have been born a little spark of
friendliness--a faint warmth of recognition for a woman who took some
slight chance with death to prove to you that her word of honour is
not lightly given or lightly broken.
So, if you please, our ways part here with this letter sent to you by
hand.
I shall not forget the rash but generous boy I knew who called me Scheherazade.