The riddle is unriddled.

She seemed dead with fear--yes, she was under his compulsion.

I will seek her; I will find her; now that he is away, she will speak her true mind.

She will remember the old times when we were little playfellows together, and this will soften her heart, and she will no more betray me, but will confess me.

There is no treacherous blood in her--no, she was always honest and true.