“You can help it!” said Malcolm, emphatically.
“Ha!” cried the governor, looking up in perplexity.
“I say you can help it! You can hinder this great wrong being done—this great crime being committed—this innocent girl being executed! And if you do not hinder it, you yourself become accessory to the murder of your benefactor’s orphan daughter!” exclaimed Montrose, with impassioned earnestness.
The governor gazed upon the speaker in astonishment and perplexity that only required the additional element of fear to form perfect consternation.
“I—I hinder all this? For the Redeemer’s sake, Mr. Montrose, tell me how. I am a poor man, with a wife and child, but I would joyfully sacrifice everything I possess in this world, and go forth a beggar, if, by so doing, I could save her from the horrible fate awaiting her!” he eagerly protested.
“Noble heart! no sacrifice will be required of you. Eudora Leaton’s friends would never permit you to suffer loss or injury in her cause. No, Anderson! you will at the same time save your patron’s child and enrich yourself!” exclaimed Malcolm, seizing and pressing the brown hand of the governor.
Anderson grew, if possible, more embarrassed than before. He dropped his head upon his breast, bent his eyes upon the floor, and remained silent. Perceiving that he would not make any comment at present, Malcolm continued, by inquiring:
“How much is your post here worth?”
“A small salary with apartments,” replied the governor, glad of a question to which he could return a straightforward answer.
“How much can you save from that?”