Stranica 243 [243]
183
“She will be persuaded now,” cried
the young lady; “she hesitates, I am
sure."
“T fear not, my dear,” said the gentle¬
man.
6 No, sir, I do not," replied the girl
after a short struggle. “Iam chained to
my old life, and loathe and hate it now,
but [ cannot leave it; I must have gone
too far to turn back,—and yet I don’t
know, for if you had spoken to me so
sometime ago, I should have laughed it
off. But”—she said, looking hastily round
—this fear comes over me again. |
must go home.”
. “Home!” replied the young lady, with
great stress upon the word.
“ Home, lady,” rejoined the girl. § To
such a home as I have raised for myself,
with the work of my whole life. Let us
part. I shall be watched, or seen. Go;
o. If | have done you any service, all
ee is that you leave me, and let me go
my way alone.”
“It is useless,” said the gentleman,
with a sigh. “ We compromise her safety,
perhaps, by staying here. We may have
detained her longer than she expected,
already.”
6 Yes, yes,” urged the girl, “ you
have."
“ What,” cried the young lady, “ can
be the end of this poor creature’s life!"
“ What!” repeated the girl. ‘ Look
before you, lady. Look at that dark
water. How many times do you read of
such as me who spring into the tide, and
leave no living thing to care for or bewail
them. It may be years hence, or it may
be only months; but I shall come to that
at last.”
* Do not speak thus, pray,” returned
the young lady, sobbing.
“It will never reach your ears, dear
lady, and God forbid such horrors should,”
replied the girl. “Good night, good
he gentleman turned away.
“This purse,” cried the young lady,
“take it for my sake, that you may have
some resource in an hour of need and
trouble.”
‘‘ No, no,” replied the girl, “IT have not
done this for money. Let me have that
to think of. And yet—give me something
that you have worn: I should like to have
something —no, no, not a ring, your
gloves, or handkerehief—anything that I
can keep as having belonged to you,
sweet lady. There, bless you, God bless
you. Good night, good night, good night.”
the apprehension of some discovery which
would subject her to ill-usage and vio¬
lence, seemed to determine the gentleman
to leave her as she requested. ‘The sound
of retreating footsteps were audible, and
the voices ceased.
The two figures of the young lady and
her companion soon afterwards appeared
upon the bridge. They stopped at the
summit of the stairs.
“ Hark!” cried the young lady, listen¬
ing. “Did she call? I thought I heard
her voice.”
“ No, my love,” replied Mr. Brownlow,
looking sadly back. “She has not moved,
and will not till we are gone.”
Rose Maylie lingered, but the old gen¬
tleman drew her arm through his and led
her with gentle force away. As they
disappeared, the girl sunk down nearly
at her full length upon one of the stone
stairs, and vented the anguish of her heart
in bitter tears.
After a time she rose, and with feeble
and tottering steps ascended to the street.
The astonished listener remained motion¬
less on his post for some minutes after¬
wards, and having ascertained with many
cautious glances round him that he was
agen alone, crept slowly from his hiding¬
place and returned, stealthily and in the
shade of the walk, in the same manner
as he had descended.
Peeping out more than once when he
reached the top to make sure that he was
unobserved, the spy darted away at his
utmost speed, and made for the Jew’s
house as fast as his legs would carry him.
CHAPTER THE NINTH.
Fatal Consequences.
Ir was nearly two hours before day¬
break—that time, which in the aufumn
of the year, may be truly called the dead
of night, when the streets are silent and
deserted, when even sound appears to
slumber, and profligacy and riot have
staggered home to dream—it was at this
still and silent hour that the Jew sat
watching in his old lair with face so dis¬
torted and pale, and eyes so red and
bloodshot, that he looked less like a man
than like some hideous phantom, moist
from the grave, and worried by an evil
spirit.
He sat crouching over a cold hearth.
wrapped in an old torn coverlet, with his
face turned towards a wasting candle that