"Bride! and cannot prepare without me," mutters the woman, seeming
to doubt the reality of his statement. A thought flashes in her
mind: "Franconia has not forgotten me; I will go and be Franconia's
friend." And with a child-like simplicity she takes Annette by the
hand, as if they were inseparable. "Can't Nicholas go, too?" she
inquires.
"You must leave the child," is the cool reply. M'Carstrow attempts
to draw the heavy bolt that fastens the door.
"Not so fast, if you please," the warden speaks. "I cannot permit
her to leave without an order from the sheriff." He puts his hand
against the door.
"She will surely be returned in the morning; I'm good for a hundred
such pieces of property."
"Can't help that," interrupts the gaoler, coolly.
"But, there's my honour!"
"An article gaolers better not deal in. It may be very good
commodity in some kinds of business-don't pay in ours; and then,
when this kind of property is in question, it won't do to show a
favour beyond the rule."
M'Carstrow is in a sad dilemma. He must relieve himself through a
problem of law, which, at this late hour, brings matters to a
singular point. He believes Franconia suffers from a nervous
affection, as the doctors call it, and has fixed her mind upon the
only object of relief. He had made no preparation for such a
critical event; but there is no postponing the ceremony,--no
depriving her of the indulgence. Not a moment is to be lost: he sets
off, post-haste, for the sheriff's office.
Pages:
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261