As for the doctor, he was somewhat of the opinion of Meg's old friend, Sir Thomas Browne, who "cast no true affection on a woman," but "loved his friend as he loved his virtue or his God". There were plenty of pretty women in the world; and his indignation on Mrs. Thorpe's behalf was perhaps not very deep; but he knew what he was about. This fanatic held his wife ridiculously dear, and her misery might break his stubbornness.
"Doctor," said Barnabas hoarsely, "can't ye do it? I'd give moast anything (but I've naught to give) to ha' my lass once more wi' no bars between us. I've that to tell her which is hard to say wi'out I have her close to me! If ye'll do that for us——"
He stammered, and broke off his sentence, from very powerlessness to express the full strength of his desire. Dr. Merrill, looking critically at him, saw that the man's face was working with the earnestness of his passion—he was not one who could entreat easily.
"I'll do it somehow," the doctor said slowly, "if—if you'll cease being such a mad idiot. Who is guilty?"
"Ye must e'en answer your own riddles; an' if that's the 'if' I must do wi'out her," said Barnabas; and the doctor shrugged his shoulders again.
"I give up! Your obstinacy beats mine, preacher." He got up from the bench where he had seated himself beside Barnabas, but still lingered a moment.
"There's a poor creature in the condemned cell who wants to see you. It's against rules, but I have got leave to take you there. Will you come?"
"Of course," said Barnabas.
They walked together through the long passages. Barnabas shivered; it was cold, and Jack was still wrapped in his jersey.
The doctor eyed him inquiringly. "What on earth shall you find to say to some one in a condemned cell?" he asked.