Aveline opened the stable door, and Charles Peace passed through. The garden gate was flung open, and the burglar ran at the top of his speed down the lane which skirted Lady Marvlynn’s palatial residence. Both ladies listened intently to the sounds of his retreating footsteps, and when these were no longer heard, Lady Batershall pressed her hand to her side and exclaimed, in a low breathless tone—
“Heaven be praised, he is free!”
“Ah! my dear,” said her companion, “I know this has been a sore trial for you.”
“It has—I freely confess it,” was the quiet rejoinder. “I am quite unnerved, and scarcely know what I am doing.”
“The horribly debased, lost man!”
“But he will reform—I do not think there is any doubt about that.”
“I hope so. I wish I could feel assured of it.”
“I feel it difficult to believe that he could have sunk so low as this.”
“Do not take on so, dear. Let us hope for the best. I should never have forgiven myself if I had been constrained to hand him over to the officers of justice, but I expect we shall be censured by our friends.”
“I expect so too,” returned Aveline, “but that we must submit to with the best grace we can. Ah! we shall be censured—there is but little doubt upon that subject.”