“I am neither. At the present moment I am in the depths of trouble. You can save me—you will, I am sure. You have a kind heart—I can see that by your face, which wears on it a sweet expression. Oh, do take pity on me!”
He threw himself on his knees before her, and again pleaded in such an eloquent manner that the young woman was touched.
She hesitated, not very well knowing what answer to make to such an appeal.
“What trouble are you in, then?” said she.
“I’ve had a dispute, a quarrel; blows have been exchanged, and, if I cannot escape from the officer who is after me, I’m a ruined man—ruined for life. You will have compassion on me. You cannot find it in your heart to refuse your aid to a distressed and afflicted man.”
“What do you want me to do? If you are discovered here my character will be lost. Go—go at once, or I will call for assistance!”
“Nay, you cannot mean anything so cruel—I’m sure you cannot!” he exclaimed, in a beseeching tone.
“Will you go, sir?”
“Yes, if you will only show me the way. This little affair will blow over in a day or two. Matters can be arranged; but if I fall into the hands of the police I’m lost. Now do you understand a miserable fugitive asking you to protest him? You cannot—you will not refuse.”
“How can I protect you?”