“Hush! listen!” continued Annella, bending low; “you would like to see her free of this place, would you not?”
“Oh, wouldn’t I though! Sure, I pray for her deliverance every night and morning on my knees,” sobbed Mrs. Barton.
“And—you would help her to escape, if a good plan was laid, and it was all safe for you?” inquired Annella, in a low, breathless whisper.
“Eh?”
“If you could do it safely, without endangering yourself, you would connive at her escape, would you not?”
“Eh? What? I don’t understand you; but I would do anything in the world I could for her. Sure, she knows that without my telling her.”
“Well, then, listen! But stop—what hours do you watch with her?”
“From six to twelve in the morning, and then from six to twelve at night.”
“Very well; no, if I were to come again to-morrow morning while you have the watch, couldn’t you contrive to turn your back and shut your eyes and pretend to drop asleep while I change clothes with her, and let her walk out closely veiled in my place?”
“Eh! What! No, Miss.”