CHAPTER XIV.
"Well, dear child, what is the trouble? Into what quagmire have yourlittle feet slipped? When you invite me so solemnly to a privateconference in this distractingly pretty room, the inference isinevitable that some disaster threatens. Have you overdrawn your bankaccount?"
Judge Dent leaned back, making himself thoroughly comfortable in a deepeasy chair in Leo's luxurious library; and taking his niece's hand,looked up into her grave, sweet face.
"I want you to honor my draft for a large amount. I am about to drawupon your sympathy; can I ever overdraw my account with that royalbank?"
"Upon my sympathy, never; but mark you, this does not commit me tocompliance with all your Utopian schemes. If you were raving mad, Ishould sympathize, but nevertheless I should see that the strait-jacketwas brought into requisition. When your generosity train dashesrecklessly beyond regulation schedules of safety, I must dischargeengineer sympathy, and whistle down the brakes. What new hobby do youintend that I shall ride?"
"I have no intention of sharing that privilege even with you; I merelydesire you to inspect the accoutrements, to examine reins, and girth,and stirrup. I lend my hobby to no one, and it is far too mettlesome to'carry double'. Uncle Mitchell, I feel so unhappy about that poor girl,that I must do something to comfort her, and only one avenue presentsitself. I want you to have her brought into court on a writ of HabeasCorpus, and to use your influence with Judge Parkman to grant her bail.I desire to give the amount of bond he may require, because I think itwould gratify her, to have this public assurance that she possessed theconfidence of her own sex; for nothing so strengthens and soothes atrue woman as the sympathy and trust of women."
"Looking at the case dispassionately from a professional point of view,I am sorry to tell you that the judge would scarcely be warranted ingranting bail. Were I still upon the bench, I could not conscientiouslyrelease her, in the face of constantly accumulating evidence againsther, although she has my deepest compassion. Conceding, however, forthe moment, that Parkman consents to the petition and the girl is setat liberty, are you prepared to pay the large forfeit, if she,realizing the fearful odds against her acquittal, should take permanentbail by absconding before the trial? Abstract sympathy and generoussentiments are one phase of this matter; positively paying a fifteen ora twenty-thousand-dollar-bond is quite another. Weigh it carefully. Wepity this unfortunate prisoner, but we know absolutely nothing in herfavor, to counterbalance the terrible array of accusing circumstancesfate has piled against her. If she be guilty, can she resist thetemptation to escape by flight; and if indeed she be innocent, how muchmore difficult to await all that is involved in this trial, and abidethe issue? Because she is beautiful, has a refined and noble air, andseems unsullied as some grand snow image, do not blind yourself to thefact, that for aught we can prove to the contrary, she may have a heartas black as Tullias', hands as bloody as Brunehaut's."
"You believe that as little as I do. I have pondered the matter in allits aspects, and I take the risk."
"You can afford to pay for her flight?"
"I will pay for her flight, no matter what it may cost."
Judge Dent took her hand between both his.
"Let us be frank."
"'The things we do-- We do; we'll wear no mask, as if we blushed!'"
"Are you so assured of the woman's fidelity; or do you deliberatelyleave the door ajar, foreseeing the result, deeming this the mostexpedient method of cutting the Gordian knot?"
For a moment she hesitated, then her soft brown eyes looked downbravely into his.
"I believe she is innocent, and that she will be loyal if released onbail; but if I mistake her character, and she should flee for her lifefrom the lifted sword of justice, then I shall gladly pay the expenseof playing Alexander's role; and shall feel rejoiced that she lives torepent her crime; and that the man to whom I have promised my hand, hasbeen relieved of the awful responsibility of hunting her to death."
"Have you made him acquainted with this scheme?"
"Certainly not. I owed it to you to secure your approbation andco-operation, before mentioning the matter to him."
"Have you considered the opposition which, without inconsistency, hecannot fail to offer? As prosecuting attorney for the Darringtons hewould be recreant to his client, if he consented to release on bail."
"His sympathy is deeply enlisted in her behalf, and I do not anticipateopposition; nevertheless, it would not deter me from the attempt tofree her, at least temporarily from prison. As you have no connectionwith the trial, I can see no impropriety in your telling Judge Parkman,that the girl's health demands a change of air and scene, and that itis my desire to furnish any bond he may deem suitable, and then bringthe prisoner under my own roof, until the day fixed for her trial. Ifyou are unwilling to speak to him, will you permit me to mention thesubject to him?"
"I fear enthusiasm is hurrying you into a proposal, the possibly graveconsequences of which you do not realize. You would run a great risk inbringing here that unfortunate woman, over whose head has gathered soblack a cloud of suspicion. In becoming her gaoler, you assume afearful responsibility."
"I fully comprehend all the hazard, and with your permission, I shallnot shrink. I have a conviction, for which I can offer no adequategrounds, that this girl is as innocent as I am; and if all the worldhissed and jeered, I should stretch out my hand to her. Do yourecollect Ortes' booty when Antwerp fell into Alva's hands? The keys ofthe dungeons. I would rather swing wide the barred doors of yonderhuman cage across the river, and lead that woman out under God's freesky, than wear all of Alva's jewels, own his gold. Uncle, will youspeak, or shall I?"
"I must first talk with Churchill and Dunbar. Your effort might resultonly in injury to the prisoner; because if she were brought into Courton writ of Habeas Corpus, and refused bail, as I fear would be thecase, the failure would operate very unfavorably for her cause, onpublic opinion, of which after all, in nineteen cases out of twenty,the jury verdict is a reflection. Some new evidence has been presentedsince the preliminary examination, and its character will determine thequestion of bail. If I can see any chance of your success I will speakto Parkman; for, indeed, my dear child, I honor your motive, and shareyour hope; but unless I find more encouragement than I expect, I willnot complicate matters by a futile attempt, which would certainlyrecoil disastrously."
"Thank you, Uncle Mitchell. Please act promptly. I have set my heart ofhearts on having that poor young woman here to spend Christmas. Herfreedom to walk about in the sunshine, is the one Christmas gift Icovet; and I know you will gratify me if possible. You have only fourdays in which to secure my present."
"When do you expect to see Dunbar?"
"I promised to ride with him this afternoon; but I prefer not todiscuss this subject, as he has earnestly requested me 'to abstain fromany reference to that gloomy business during his hours of recreation;'and I have no intention of setting black care en croupe to share ourcanter to-day. Having told me that when he leaves his office to visitus, he locks his professional affairs in his desk, you can readilyunderstand that good taste enforces respect for his wishes, at least inthe matter of avoiding tabooed topics."
"Does it occur to you that he will object very strenuously to seeingthe personification of 'that gloomy business' sitting at yourhearth-stone? That he may refuse to lock up in his law office thesignificant and disagreeable reflection, that the woman whom hearrested find prosecutes for a vile crime, is championed and housed byone whom he claims as his promised wife? Dunbar has a keen eye for the'eternal fitness of things,' and, where you are concerned, is a jealousstickler for social convenance. I warn you he will be bitterlyoffended, if you bring General Darrington's granddaughter under thisroof."
Her delicate flower-like face flushed; and the slight figure becameproudly erect.
"It is my house, and I acquit him of the presumption of desiring todictate to whom its doors shall be opened. If he has no confidence inmy discre
tion, no respect for my motives, no tolerance for differenceof opinion in a matter of vital importance, then the sooner ourengagement is annulled the better for both of us. When I have taken myvows, I hope I shall steadfastly keep them, but meantime I am still aGordon. The irrevocable ubi tu Caius, ego Caia, has not yet beenuttered, and while it would grieve me very much to wound his feelings,I claim the exercise of my own judgment. I am not indifferent to hiswishes; on the contrary, I ardently desire, as far as is consistentwith my self-respect, to defer to them; but when I pledged him myfaith, I did not surrender my will, nor obliterate my individuality."
Judge Dent rose, put his arm around her shoulders, and drew the sunnyhead to his breast.
"Leo, listen to me. There is no heaven on earth, but the nearestapproach to it, the outlying suburbs whence we get bewildering glimpsesof beatitude beyond, is the season of courtship and betrothal. In themagical days of sweetheartdom, a silvery glorifying glamour wraps theworld, brims jagged black chasms with glittering mist, paves ruggedpaths with its shimmering folds, and tenderly covers very deep in roseleaves, the clay feet of our idols. That wonderful light shines onlyonce full upon us, but the memory of it streams all along thesucceeding journey; follows us up the arid heights, throws its mellowafterglow on the darkening road, as we go swiftly down the slipperyhill of life. It comes to all, as hope's happy prophecy, this sparklingprologue, and we never dream that it is the sweetest and best of thedrama that follows; but let me tell you, enjoy it while you may.Beautiful, hallowing sweetheart days, keep them unclouded, guard themfrom strife; hold them for the precious enchantment they bring, andtake an old man's advice, do not quarrel with your sweetheart."
He kissed her cheek, and when the door closed behind him, she sat downand covered her face with her hands.
Was that witching light already fading in her sky? Was the storm evennow muttering, that would rudely toss aside the rose leaves thatgarlanded the feet of her beloved? In the midst of her eloquentprologue would darkness smite suddenly, and end the drama? Life hadpoured its richest wine into the cup she held to her lips; should sherisk spilling the priceless draught? She could turn a deaf ear toteazing whispers of suspicion, she could shut her eyes to the spectrethat threw up warning hands, and so drift on; but the dream would bebroken perhaps too late, and all time could not repair the possibleshipwreck. Into the chill shadow of this problem plunged Miss Patty,bringing through the room the penetrating spicery of an apron full ofpinks, which she was sorting and tying in star-shaped clusters.
"An extraordinary and most unexpected thing has happened, and I knowyou will be surprised."
"What is it, Aunt Patty? Something very pleasant, I hope."
"I have actually changed my opinion; and you know how tenacious Iusually am of my well-matured views, because they are always founded onsuch sound reasons. Quite surprised, aren't you, dear?"
"That is far too mild and inadequate a term to express my sensations.Your views and opinions bear the same royal, inviolable seal as thoseof the Medes and Persians, and from their unchangeableness must havefloated down the stream of Aryan migration, from some infalliblefountain in Bactria. I should not be much more astonished to hear thatCynosure had grown giddy, had swung down and waltzed in the arms ofSirius."
"Leo, that sounds very pedantic, and there is nothing I dislike more. Awoman bedecked with rags and tags of farfetched learning, is about asattractive an object as if she had turned out a full beard andmustache. I am very sure you have heard me assert more than once, thatI verily believe Venus herself would scare all the men intomonasteries, if she wore blue stockings. Too much learning in a lady'sconversation is as utterly unpardonable as a waste of lemon and nutmegin a chicken-pie; or a superfluity of cheese in Turbot a la creme; justa hint of the flavor, the merest soupcon is all that is admissible ineither. I came in to tell you, that I have experienced quite a changeof feeling with reference to that poor young lady, whom Mr. Dunbar withsuch officious haste arrested and threw into gaol. I am now convincedthat a great wrong has been committed."
For a moment Leo stooped to stroke the head of her Siberian hound,crouching on the velvet rug at her feet; then she frankly met thetwinkling black eyes that peered over their gold-rimmed spectacles.
"I am glad to hear it; but to what circumstance is so deckled arevulsion of sentiment attributable?"
"You know I have great confidence in Sister Serena's sagacity, andduring the past fortnight she has talked frequently with me on thesubject of the prisoner. When she undertook to nurse the poor child,she too considered her guilty of the unnatural crime; but by degreesshe began to doubt it. About ten days ago, she says she went to thepenitentiary, and found the prisoner reading a Bible which she hadborrowed from the gaoler's wife. She asked her if she would like her tooffer up a prayer, in her behalf, and they knelt down side by side.Sister Serena prayed that God would melt her heart if she was guilty,and help her to repent. While they were still on their knees, SisterSerena put one arm around her and said:
"'God knows whether you are the criminal; and if so, let me beg of youto make a full confession; it will unload your conscience, and may bethe means of arousing more sympathy in the public heart.' She says thatthe poor girl looked at her a moment so reproachfully, and answered:'When we meet in heaven, you will understand how cruelly your wordshurt me. I know that appearances are hopelessly against me, and Iexpect to die; but I am so innocent, I keep my soul close to God, forHe who knows the truth, will help me to bear man's injustice.' Then sheprayed aloud for herself, that she might endure patiently and meekly anawful punishment which she did not deserve; and while she prayed, hercountenance was so pure, so angelic, and there was such unmistakablefervor and sincerity in her petition, that Sister Serena says she couldnot help bursting into tears, and she actually begged the girl's pardonfor having doubted her innocence. She has fallen completely in lovewith the poor young creature, and tells me she finds her wonderfullytalented and cultivated. This morning she showed me some of the mostbeautiful designs for decorating our altar on Christmas, which theprisoner sketched for her. She cut all the models for her, and gave hersuch lovely suggestions, and when Sister Serena thanked her, she saysthe most touching smile she ever saw came into that child's face, asshe answered: 'I ought to thank you for the privilege of decorating mySavior's altar, at the last Christmas I shall spend on earth. Nextyear, I shall spend Jesus' birthday with Him.' I felt so uncomfortablewhen I heard all that passed between her and Sister Serena, that Icould not be easy until I had seen for myself; and as Sister Serena wasgoing over to carry some letters to be painted and gilded, I went withher. I have seen her, and talked with her, and I pity the hard, bitter,unregenerate and vindictive heart of the man who is prosecuting her formurder. I do not believe that in all the world, Mr. Dunbar can findtwelve men idiotic and vicious enough to convict that beautiful orphangirl; and his failure will do as little credit to his intellect, assuccess would to his moral nature."
"While I prefer to exclude Mr. Dunbar's name from our discussions, Ithink it merely bare justice to the absent, to assure you that hedesires her conviction even less than you or I; and will do all in hispower to avert it. I feel more interest in this matter than you canpossibly realize, and, believing her innocent, I will befriend her tothe last extremity. Did Sister Serena succeed in fitting the blackdress I sent?"
"The poor child had on a mourning dress, but I was not aware you sentit. Losing her mother seems almost to have broken her heart. PoorEllice Darrington! Petted and fostered like a hot-house flower, andthen to die a pauper in a hospital! What an awful retribution for herdisobedience to her parents? There is the bell."
"Yes, Auntie, and I must ask you to excuse me. Some of my Sunday-schoolclass are coming to practise their carols, and conclude a littleholiday preparation, and I hear them now on the steps."
"Did Mitchell show you Leighton's telegram?"
"He told me the good news, that at the last moment Leighton had filledhis pulpit for the holidays, and would preach for us on Christma
s. Howdelightfully it will revive the dear old days to have him back? Fancyour hanging up our stockings once more at the foot of Uncle Mitchell'sbed! Your letter must have been eloquent, indeed, to entice him fromthe splendors of the metropolis, to the yule log at our quiet 'Lilacs';and his coming is a tribute of gratitude to you, for all your lovingcare of him. I know you are so happy at the thought of taking the HolyCommunion from the hand of your dear boy, that it will consecrate thisChristmas above all others; and I congratulate you heartily, dear AuntPatty."
It was late in the afternoon of Saturday, Christmas Eve, when Leoknocked at the door of Mrs. Singleton's room. A dispirited expressioncharacterized the countenance usually serene and happy, and between herbrows a perpendicular line marked the advent of anxious foreboding. Herhopeful scheme had dissolved, vanished like a puff of steam on icy air,leaving only a teazing memory of mocking failure. Judge Dent'sconference with the District Solicitor, had convinced him of thefutility of any attempt to secure bail; moreover, a message from theprisoner earnestly exhorted them to abandon all intercessory designs inher behalf, as she would not accept release on bail, and preferred toawait her trial.
"Good evening, Miss Gordon. If you want to see her, Ned will show youthe way to the chapel, where I left her a while ago. Since her mother'sdeath, the only comfort she gets, is from the organ; so we let her gothere very often. I would go with you, but I want to finish a blackshawl I am crocheting for her."
The warden escorted his visitor through the chill dim corridors thathad formerly so appalled Beryl's soul, and upon the steps of thechapel, both paused to listen. On the small cabinet organ, a skilfulhand was playing a grand and solemn aria, which Leo had heard oncebefore in the cool depths of Freiburg Cathedral. It had impressed herthen most powerfully, as the despairing invocation of some doomedTitan; to-day it thrilled her with keen and intolerable pain. Wavingthe warden back, she softly entered the chapel, closed the door, andsat down.
Through the narrow windows, the afternoon sunlight, fettered by shadowybars, fell on the bare floor, and the radiance smote the organ and thewan face of the musician, gilding the dark reddish-brown hair coiledloosely on her nobly poised head. Her black dress enhanced the extremepallor of delicate features, which, outlined against that goldenbackground, bore a strong resemblance to the lovely portrait ofTitian's wife in the Louvre. Unmindful of the keys, across which herfingers strayed, she was gazing off into space, as if seeking somefriendly face; and to the same sombre, passionate, plaintive melody shesang:
"The way is dark, my Father! Cloud upon cloud Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud The thunders roar above me. O, see--I stand Like one bewildered! Father, take my hand-- And through the gloom lead safely home Thy Child! The day declines, my Father! and the night Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight Sees ghostly visions. Fears like a spectral band Encompass me. O, Father, take my hand, And from the night lead up to light Thy Child! The cross is heavy, Father! I have borne It long, and still do bear it. I cannot stand Or go alone. O, Father, take my hand, And reaching down, lead to the crown Thy Child!"
The voice was wonderfully sweet and rich, vibrating with the intensepathos of minor chords in a mellow old violoncello, and either fromphysical weakness, or the weight of woe, it quivered at last into athrilling cry. Tears were dripping over Leo's cheeks, as she went up tothe chancel railing, and leaning across, put out her hand. Beryl roseand came forward, and so, with only the pine balustrade between, thetwo stood palm in palm. No moisture dimmed the prisoner's eyes, butaround her beautiful mouth sorrowful curves betokened the fierceness ofthe ordeal she was enduring; and her lips trembled a little, like roseleaves under a sudden rude gust.
"I have wanted very much to see you, Miss Gordon, to thank you for thegreat kindness that prompted your effort to help me; and yet, I have nohope of expressing adequately the comfort I derived from thismanifestation of your confidence. The knowledge that you offeredsecurity for me, above all, that you were willing to take me--anoutcast, almost a convicted criminal--into the holy shelter of your ownhome, oh! you can never realize, unless you stood in my place, how itsoothes my heart, how it will always make a bright spot in theblackness of my situation. The full sympathy of a noble woman is thebest tonic for a feeble sufferer, who knows the world has turned itsback upon her. If I were unworthy, your goodness would be the keenestlash that could scourge me; but forlorn though I seem, your friendshipbrings me measureless balm, and while I could never have accepted yourgenerous offer, I thank you sincerely."
"Why were you so unwilling that I should try to release you?"
"I have not a dollar to pay my expenses anywhere, and I appreciated toofully all that was involved in your hospitable offer, to take me underyour roof, to be willing to avail myself of it. Here I am provided for,by those who believe me guilty; and here I have the kind sympathy ofMr. and Mrs. Singleton, who were my first friends when the storm brokeover my doomed head. To go out of prison into the world now, would betorturing, because I am proud and sensitive; and these dark wallsscreen me from the curious observation from which I shrink, as frombeing flayed. To the desolate and homeless, change of place brings norelief; and since there is no escape for me, I prefer to wait here forthe end, which, after all, cannot be very distant."
"Do you refer to the trial next month?"
"No, to that which yawns behind the trial; a shallow gash out thereunder the pines, where the sound of the penitentiary bell tollsrequiems for the souls of its mangled victims."
"Hush! hush! You wrong yourself by imagining the possibility of suchhorrible results. Gloomy surroundings, coupled with your greatbereavement, render you morbidly despondent; and it was the hope ofcheering you, that made me so anxious to get you away. If I could onlytake you home, even for one week!"
"The wish has cheered me inexpressibly. How good, how noble, how tenderyou are! Miss Gordon, because I am so grateful, let me now say onething. You cannot help me in future, and it would grieve me to thinkthat I fell, as an unlifting shadow, between your heart and thesunshine that warms it. In the night of my wretchedness, you havegroped your way to me, and in defiance of the circumstances that are socruelly leagued to strangle me, you throw your confidence like a warmmantle around my shivering soul; you have courageously laid your pure,womanly hands in mine--oh, God bless you! God reward you! Do you thinkI could bear to know that I had caused even a hand's breadth of cloudto drift over the heavenly blue of your happy sky? The bow of promisethat spans your life is no secret. Let no thought of me jar the harmonythat reigned before I came here. Leave me to my doom, which human handscannot avert now; and be happy without questioning. Inexorable fatestands behind men; makes them, sometimes, irresponsible puppets."
A deep flush had risen to Leo's temples, and withdrawing her hand, sheshaded her face for a moment. The great bell below the tower clock rangsullenly.
"Good-bye, Miss Gordon. I had permission to stay here only till thebell sounded. Pray for me, but do not come again. Visits to me couldbring you nothing but sorrow in return for your compassion, and thatwould add to my misery. I wish you a pleasant Christmas, a happy NewYear, and as cloudless a life as your great goodness deserves."
Once more their hands met, in a long close clasp, then Leo laid on thechancel railing a large square envelope.
"It is only a Christmas card, but so lovely, I know your artistic tastecannot fail to admire it; and it may brighten your cheerless room. Itis the three-hundred-dollar-prize-card, and particularly beautiful."
"Thank you, dear Miss Gordon. It may help to deaden the mercilessstings of memory, which all day long has tortured me by unrolling thepast, where my Christmas days stand out like illuminated capitals onblack-letter pages."
Deaden the stings of memory? What spell suddenly evoked the image ofher invalid mother, all the details of the attic room, the litter ofpencils on the table; the windows of a florist's shop where, standingon the pavement, she had studied hungrily the shapes of the blossomsp
overty denied her as models; the interior of the Creche, which she hadpenetrated in order to sketch the heads of sleeping babies, as a studyfor cherubs?
Leo had almost reached the door, when a passionate, indescribablymournful cry arrested her steps.
"Too late!--too late! O, God! What a cruel mockery!"
Beryl stood leaning against the railing of the altar, with the light ofthe setting sun falling aslant on the gilded card she held up in onehand; on her white convulsed face, where tears fell in a scaldingflood. Retracing her steps, Leo said falteringly:
"In my efforts to comfort you, have I only wounded more sorely? Howhave I hurt you? What can I do?"
"No--no! you are an angel of pity, hovering over an abyss of ruin,whose darkest horrors you only imagine faintly. What can you do?Nothing, but pray to God to paralyze my tongue, and grant me death,before I lose my last clutch on faith, and curse my Creator, and driftdown to eternal perdition! It was hard enough before, but this mockerymaddens."
With a sudden abandonment, she hurled the card away, threw her armsaround Leo's neck and sobbed unrestrainedly. Tenderly the latter heldher shivering form, as the proud head fell on her shoulder; and after atime, Beryl lifted a face white as an annunciation lily, drenched bytropical rain.
"I thought misfortune had emptied all her vials, and that I was nerved,because there was nothing more to dread. But the worst is alwaysbehind, and this is the irony of fate. You think that merely arhetorical metaphor, a tragic trope? How should you know? ThatChristmas card is the solitary dove I sent out to hunt a resting-placefor mother and for me, when the flood engulfed us. It was my designsent to Boston, to compete for the prizes offered. How I dreamed, how Itoiled! Haunting the flower shops for a glimpse of heartsease, andpassion flowers, and stars of Bethlehem; begging a butcher at theabattoir to spare a lamb, until I could sketch it; kneeling by cradlesin the public Creche to get the full red curve of a baby's suckinglips, as they forsook the bottle, the dimple in the tiny hands, thetendrils of hair on the satin brow! Over that card I sang, and I wept;I worked, hoped, prayed, believed! So much depended upon it! Could theChrist to whom I dedicated it, fail to answer my prayer for success?Three hundred dollars! What a mint! It would pay the doctor, and makemother comfortable, and get her a warm new suit for coming winter. Oh!it is so easy to believe in God, until He denies us; and to trustChrist, till He hurls our prayers back, and the stones crush us. Onlythree hundred dollars between life and death; between a happy, proudgirl with a noble future, and a disgraced, broken-hearted wrecktrampled into a convict's grave! It would have saved all; all the awfulconsequences of the journey here, which only dire extremity of needforced upon me. On the fatal day I started South, I went at the lastmoment, hoping that some tidings from my card would come on angelwings. The decision had been made, but the awards were not yetpublished, and so my doom was sealed. To-morrow, happy women, no moreinnocent than I am, will smile at my Christmas card, and give it withwarm kisses and loving words to their dear ones; and to-day, my whitedove of hope, flies back in my face, with the talons of a harpy, todevour me with maddening reminders of 'what might have been'. Mycoveted three hundred dollars! Three hundred taunting fiends! to jeerand torment me. The Christmas sun will shine on a pauper's empty cot ina charity hospital; on a disgraced, insulted, forsaken convict. Takeaway this last mockery, it is more than I can bear. There on the backin gilt letters--Prize Card--Three Hundred Dollars! Yet a stranger paidfor my mother's coffin, and--. Three hundred furies to lash my heartout! Too late! Take it away! too late! oh, too late! This is worse thanthe pangs of death."
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