The chaplain’s visit on this occasion was one unusually long—indeed, there is no telling how long it would have been had it not been rudely interrupted.
While seated by the side of his enchantress the alarm bell of the prison was suddenly rung.
This was followed by the shuffling of feet along the corridor, the sounds of many voices, as of people who were conversing hurriedly.
Mr. Leverall judged rightly enough that something unusual had occurred in the gaol.
“My dear Laura,” he exclaimed (he had already learned to call her by her Christian name), “there must be some strong reason for all this commotion; I must, therefore, leave you now.”
“You are going,” cried the prisoner, pouting. “Well, I will not seek to detain you.”
The door was suddenly opened, and a male warder thrust his head in.
He was evidently in a state of alarm, and said—
“Oh, your pardon, sir, but the governor wishes you to attend a patient in the infirmary.”
“What is the matter, Martin?” inquired the chaplain.