She was living the past over again. Her mind had gone back to the time when, assisted by John, the gardener of Springfield, she had travelled in agony through the heavy snow, to implore the man who had betrayed and deserted her to take pity on her hapless state, and to render her some kind of human justice, if not for her sake, for the sake of his child, then unborn. And the thought which oppressed her and filled her with dread at that awful epoch of her life, now found expression on her lips:
"Will he never come? Oh, my God! will he never come?"
"Do you think," whispered Arthur Temple to Seth Dumbrick, who had given Ned Chester into Richards' charge, "that we might raise her into the trap, and drive her slowly to the town?"
The tender arms about her desisted from their effort as she moaned:
"If you raise me in your arms, I shall die! If you attempt to carry me into the town, I shall die!"
The very words she had spoken to John on that night of agony. And then again:
"Will he never come? If he saw me, he would take pity on me! Send him to me, kind Heaven!"
Another actor appeared upon the scene,--Mr. Temple, who, accompanied by the ostler, had found his way to the spot.
"Arthur!" he cried.
The young man rose at once to his feet, and went to his father.