She started up, recollected in an instant where she was, who rapped, and what was required.
She jumped up, rubbed her eyes, shook herself, and went to the door.
“Well, what do you want?” she inquired, as she opened it a little way.
“We want the prisoner. Here’s some breakfast for her. Let her eat it quickly, for the chaise is at the door to convey her to the county gaol,” said the policeman on duty, handing in a waiter of coffee and bread.
“The prisoner? What prisoner are you talking about? There is no prisoner here!” said Tabitha, disdainfully, as she received the waiter, and set it upon the side-table.
“Miss Eudora Leaton, your missus, our prisoner. Tell her to get herself ready quickly, as we must take her off towards the prison directly,” said the policeman.
“My missus! Why, haven’t you taken her off already?” exclaimed Tabitha, in well-assumed surprise.
“Taken her off already? No! What do you mean?” inquired the policeman, in astonishment.
“I mean as how she isn’t here! as you know very well she isn’t, ’cause you’ve taken her away! What have you done with her—eh?” cried Tabitha.
“Come, woman, none of your nonsense; it won’t do with us, I can tell you; so just get your missus ready to go with us.”