"I an't got nothing to tell you any more than I have told you already," answered the woman doggedly.
"Why, you never told me anything!" exclaimed Lyon Berners, impatiently.
"Yes, I did too! I told you as how the last time I seen Miss Sybil's face, or the baby's face, was when they was both a layin' side by side on the bed just before the water rushed into the broken winder; and how I myself was picked up not far from where the prison was," said Miss Tabby, stubbornly.
"Which was all a prevarication, Tabby, though to the letter true. Come. You can tell me more than that."
"No, sir; I told you that then, and I can't tell you no more now."
"But I know you can. See! this letter releases you from your oath of silence."
"No letter can't release me from no oath, sir, which I took upon the Bible," persisted Miss Tabby.
"Was there ever such fanaticism!" exclaimed Lyon Berners, impatiently.
"I don't know what sort of a schism fanaticism is, sir, but I know I an't left so far to my own devices as to be let to fall into any schisms, so long as I prays faithfully into the litany every Sunday to be delivered from all schisms."
"Heaven and earth, woman! That has nothing to do with it. Here is a man writing to release you from an oath you took to him to keep secrecy on a certain event, of which it is expedient now for you to speak. He frees you from your oath, I tell you."