"He agrees to everything, if one of you gentlemen will write to Mrs. Routh for him. That's it, ain't it?" said he, turning again to Jim.
"Yes, sir," said the boy, with an earnestness of entreaty in his voice and his look which touched the listeners. "If one of you will write to her. I don't mean a letter of your own--grand like--for then she mightn't believe it, and she might think as I was paid. I did it for Mr. Dallas; but I don't think as I should have done it if he hadn't been bad to her, and if I hadn't seen her a-dyin' day after day, as courageous as can be, but still a-dyin', and he a-neglectin' of her first and deceivin' of her after."
"She is this man's accomplice," said Mr. Lowther, moodily.
"Perhaps so, to a certain extent," said Mr. Felton; "but she is to be pitied, too. I saw that. I saw a little way into her life at Homburg, and, from all George has told me, I would be as little hard with her as possible. He cannot escape us, she cannot shield him; let us hear what the boy wishes to say to her, and then decide. Tell me," he said, kindly, to Jim, "what do you wish to say to this lady?"
"You must understand," said Mr. Tatlow, "that you can't send your letter till we've got him."
"I don't want to, sir," said Jim. "I think as he's runnin' away from her to-night, partik'lar as the lady is gone."
(Mr. Tatlow had ascertained the fact of Mrs. Ireton P. Bembridge's departure during his brief absence.)
"He didn't go home last night, and I think as he's afraid to face her, and is runnin' away to-night."
"Very well, then," said Mr. Lowther, "I will write the letter. You shall tell me what to say, and it shall be sent to her this evening."
So Jim dictated, with infinite difficulty and astonishing slowness, and Mr. Lowther wrote: