“Can’t I? There you are mistaken. She is no stranger, but the dearest friend I have in the world!” exclaimed Annella, who immediately poured forth in a few vehement words the history of her acquaintance with Eudora.
All this time Annella had been standing before Malcolm, who had remained sitting.
He understood her now, and recollected himself. He arose, took her hand, and led her to a seat with respectful tenderness, saying, deprecatingly:
“I beg you will forgive me, Miss Wilder, but this heavy calamity has quite unmanned me, and made me oblivious even of the common courtesies of life.”
“I know, I know,” said Annella, impatiently, “but don’t waste words of apology on me, I don’t want that; I want your immediate co-operation in a plan for the rescue of Eudora.”
“Kind girl, I thank you earnestly in Eudora’s name; but any plan you might arrange I greatly fear must prove impossible of execution.”
“Do you love her, and can you talk of fear and of impossibility in reference to any scheme for her deliverance?” exclaimed Annella, passionately.
“Miss Wilder, I told you that I would gladly purchase her life with my own, if I could be permitted to do so; but for any plan for her rescue, dear girl, I can have but little hope.”
“Why?”
“Ah, Miss Wilder! have you reflected upon the strength of that prison, and the vigilance and incorruptibility of its officers?”