"I'll keep him outside a minute or two," added the man, wiping his brow, evidently much relieved by his charge's calmness. "I kep' him back as long as I could—but happen it's allus best to hurry the parting after all."
He moved away upon tiptoe, in instinctive tribute to the lady's sorrow, and drew the door to.
Molly threw back her veil which she had lowered upon his entrance, her face was livid.
"What is it?" she asked, articulating with difficulty.
"Nothing—a fellow to see to my irons."
He moved his hands as he spoke, and she understood him, as he had hoped, to refer only to his manacles.
She drew a gasping breath. How they watched him! Yet all was not lost after all.
"I will leave the file," she said, in a quick whisper; "you will reflect; there is yet to-morrow," and rushed to hide it in his bed. But he caught her by the arm, his patience worn out at length.
"Useless," he answered, harshly. "I shall not use it. Moreover, it would be found, and I am sure it is not your wish to bring unnecessary hardship upon my last moments. I should lose the only thing that is left to me, the comfort of being alone. And to-morrow I shall see no one."
The door groaned apart: