I want to help you keep him. Are you
ready to go away, at any time?"
"Yes. Oh, yes!"
"And he?"
She answered almost in a whisper:
"Yes; but there is that poor man."
"That poor man is a graveyard thief; a hyena; a ghoul--not worth
consideration." And the rasp in his own voice surprised him.
"Ah!" she sighed. "But I am sorry for him. Perhaps he was hungry. I have
been hungry--you do things then that you would not. And perhaps he has
no one to love; if you have no one to love you can be very bad. I think
of him often--in prison."
Between his teeth Keith muttered: "And Laurence?"
"We do never speak of it, we are afraid."
"He's not told you, then, about the trial?"
Her eyes dilated.
"The trial! Oh! He was strange last night. This morning, too, he got up
early. Is it-is it over?"
"Yes."
"What has come?"
"Guilty."
For a moment Keith thought she was going to faint. She had closed her
eyes, and swayed so that he took a step, and put his hands on her arms.
"Listen!" he said. "Help me; don't let Laurence out of your sight. We
must have time. I must see what they intend to do. They can't be going
to hang this man. I must have time, I tell you.
Pages:
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78