Up the rocky hill toiled the horses, arching their necks as they stooped their faces to avoid the blinding rain: and soon the huge blot of prison walls, like a crouching monster ambushed in surrounding gloom, barred the way.
In two windows of the second story, burned lights that borrowed lurid rays in their passage through the mist, and seemed to glow angrily, like the red eyes of a sullen beast of prey. The carriage stopped. A moment after, the deputy-sheriff sprang from his wagon and rang the bell close to the great gate. Two dogs bayed hoarsely, and somewhere in the building an answering bell sounded.
Beryl leaned forward.
"Mr. Dunbar, there is one last favor I ask at your hands. I want my—my—I want that pipe, that was shown in court. Will you ask that it may be given to me? Will you send it to me?"
A half strangled, scarcely audible oath was his only reply.
She put out her hand, laid it on his.
"You dare caused me so much suffering, surely you will not deny me this only recompense I shall ever ask."
His hand closed over hers.
"If I bring it to you, will you confess who smoked it last?"
"After to-night, sir, I think it best I should never see your face again."