Page 215 [215]
159
very
in earnest.”
s He spoke in hard and angry earnest, if
her head. “He is an earnest man when
his hatred is up. I know many who do
worse things; but Vd rather listen to them
all a dozen times than to that Monks once.
It is growing late, and I have to reach
home without suspicion of having been
on such an errand as this. I must get
back quickly.”
‘But what can I do?” said Rose.
c To what use can I turn this communica¬
tion without you? Back! Why do you
wish to return to companions you paint in
such terrible colours? If you repeat this
information to a gentleman whom I can
summon in one instant from the next
room, you can be consigned to some place
of safety without half an hour’s delay."
6 I wish to go back,” said the girl. "1
wish to go back, because — how can I tell
such things to an innocent lady like you!
— because among the men I have told
you of, there is one the most desperate
of them all that I can’t leave; no — not
even to be saved from the life I am lead¬
ing now.”
c Your having interfered in this dear
boy’s behalf before," said Rose; "your
coming here at so great a risk to tell me
what you have heard; your manner,
which convinces me of the truth of what
you say; your evident contrition, and
sense of shame, all lead me to believe that
you might yet be reclaimed. Oh!”
said the earnest girl, folding her hands as
the tears coursed down her face, " do
not turn a deaf ear to the entreaties of one
of your own sex; the first—the first, I
do believe, who ever appealed to you in
the voice of pity and compassion. Do
hear my words, and let me save you yet
for better things."
6 Lady,” cried the girl, sinking on her
knees, “ dear, sweet, angel lady, you are
the first that ever blessed me with such
words as these, and if I had heard them
years ago, they might have turned me
from a life of sin and sorrow; but it is
too late—it is too late."
“It is never too late," said Rose, § for
penitenee and atonement.”
sc [t is, " cried the girl writhing in the
agony of her mind; “I cannot leave him
now —I could not be his death.”
6 Why should you be?" asked Rose.
6 Nothing could save him,” cried the
He is the boldest,
and has been so cruel."
“Ts it possible,” cried Rose, “ that for
such a inan as this you can resign every
future hope, and the certainty of imme¬
diate rescue? It is madness.”
“T don’t know what it is,’ answered
the girl; “I only know that it is so, and
not with me alone, but with hundreds of
others as bad and as wretched as myself.
I must go back. Whether it is God’s
wrath for the wrong I have done, I do not
know; but I am drawn back to him
through every suffering and ill-usage, and
should be I believe, if I knew that Í was
to die by his hand at last.”
“ What am I to do?” said Rose. “I
rt from me thus.”
* You should, lady, and I know you
will,” rejoined the girl, rising. ‘ You
will not stop my going because I have
trusted in your goodness, and forced no
promise from you as I might have done.”
“Of what use, then, is the communica
tion you have made?” said Rose. “ This
mystery must be investigated, or how will
its disclosure to me benefit Oliver, whom
you are anxious to serve?"
s You must have some kind gentleman
about you that will hear it as a secret,
po advise you what to do,” rejoined the
girl.
“ But where can I find you again when
it is necessary ?’ asked Rose. “I do not
seek to know where these dreadful! people
live, but where you will be walking or
passing at any settled period from this
time ?”
“Will you promise me that you will
have my secret strictly kept, and come
alone, or with the only other person that
knows it, and that I shall not be watched
or followed?" asked the girl.
6 [ promise you solemnly,” answered
“Every Sunday night, from eleven
until the clock strikes twelve," said the
irl without hesitation, "I will walk on
ndon Bridge, if I am alive.”
“Stay another moment,” interposed
Rose, as the girl moved hurriedly towards
the door. “Think once again on your
own condition, and the opportunity you
have of escaping from it. You have a
claim on me; not only as the voluntary
bearer of this intelligence, but asa womatt
lost almost beyond redemption. Will you
return to this gang of robbers, and this
man, when a word can save yout What
fascination is it that can take you back,