“Caught and hung!” she echoed. “My poor Edward! what do you mean?”
He sat down suddenly on a chair, close by him, and covered his face with his hands. When he spoke, his voice was feeble and imploring.
“The police are after me, Maggie! What must I do? Oh! can you hide me? Can you save me?”
He looked wild, like a hunted creature. Maggie stood aghast. He went on:
“My mother!—Nancy! Where are they? I was wet through and starving, and I came here. Don’t let them take me, Maggie, till I’m stronger, and can give battle.”
“Oh! Edward! Edward! What are you saying?” said Maggie, sitting down on the dresser, in absolute, bewildered despair. “What have you done?”
“I hardly know. I’m in a horrid dream. I see you think I’m mad. I wish I were. Won’t Nancy come down soon? You must hide me.”
“Poor Nancy is ill in bed!” said Maggie.
“Thank God,” said he. “There’s one less. But my mother will be up soon, will she not?”
“Not yet,” replied Maggie. “Edward, dear, do try and tell me what you have done. Why should the police be after you?”