"Escape! Easy enough to say. But where am I to go? Did she send any money?"
"She will," said Stephen, improvising.
"When?"
"To-morrow."
"How much?"
"Quite a sum; as much as you need."
"Is she so flush, then?"
"She is, as you say—flush," replied Stephen.
Brother Bethuel had listened breathlessly to this conversation; and when Eliot said, fretfully, "But where am I to go now—to-night?" he answered: "Home with me, Dick. I can conceal you for one night; nobody suspects me. The Lord will forgive; it is an Eliot."
"Wait until I warn the fellows, then," said the man, disappearing suddenly in the same way he had appeared. Then Stephen, who had not risen from his seat, felt a pair of arms thrown around his neck; the little brother was embracing him fervently.