AndyetIcannothonestlysaythatmyownmoralconvictionswerestrongenoughtodecidethestruggleinmebythemselves。TheywerehelpedbymyremembranceofSirPercival’sdeath。Howawfully，atthelastmoment，hadtheworkingoftheretributiontherebeensnatchedfrommyfeeblehandsIWhatrighthadItodecide，inmypoormortalignoranceofthefuture，thatthisman，too，mustescapewithimpunitybecauseheescapedme？
Ithoughtofthesethings——perhapswiththesuperstitioninherentinmynature，perhapswithasenseworthierofmethansuperstition。Itwashard，whenIhadfastenedmyholdonhimatlast，toloosenitagainofmyownaccord——butIforcedmyselftomakethesacrifice。Inplainerwords，IdeterminedtobeguidedbytheonehighermotiveofwhichIwascertain，themotiveofservingthecauseofLauraandthecauseofTruth。
`Iacceptyourconditions，’Isaid。`Withonereservationonmypart。’
`Whatreservationmaythatbe？’heasked。
`Itreferstothesealedletter，’Ianswered。`Irequireyoutodestroyitunopenedinmypresenceassoonasitisplacedinyourhands。’