“Oh, thank you! thank you for that! for you believe only what God knows to be true! I am innocent!” wept Eudora.
“I know you be, my poor child! Oh, Mr. Perlice, look at her! just look at her sweet face and soft eyes, and tell me if it is possible for her to be guilty of what she is accused with?” said the landlady, taking the detective by his arm, and turning him towards the prisoner.
“The testimony, mum, the testimony!” said that functionary, coolly.
“Oh, the testimony!” The landlady shut her lips to prevent the escape of a word that would not have become the mouth of an honest woman.
“Fax is fax, mum! And now, as we want to catch the three o’clock train, I wish you would show your kindness to your lodger by putting her things on her.”
“I won’t! You shan’t take her away, you cruel man!” cried the landlady, roaring with grief.
“Do, Mrs. Corder, get my bonnet and shawl; we must not resist the warrant, you know,” said Eudora, in an expiring voice, as, unable longer to support her sinking frame, she dropped into the nearest chair.
“But I will resist! It’s cruel! it’s monstrous! it’s infamous to drag you off in this way!” sobbed the landlady.
“I’ll tell you what, mum, unless you get what the young lady requires, and help her to prepare for her journey, I shall have to go into her chamber and be her waiting-maid myself, which might not be so pleasant, you know, for I expect Rutt here every minute with the cab.”
At this moment, indeed, the other policeman entered to say that the carriage was at the door.