“I will do all I possibly can, and that immediately; indeed, as soon as I have the documents, and have perused them, I will go to your brother a day sooner than I intended. Do you feel yourself well enough to go now? If you do, my clerk shall procure you a coach. Do you stay in London? If so, you must leave your address.”
Mary replied that she intended to set off to Exeter that evening by the mail, and would meet him there.
Mr Trevor handed her out, put her into the coach, and she ordered the man to drive to the inn where she was stopping. Mary’s senses were quite bewildered. It was late, and the mail was to start in an hour or two. She secured her place, and during her long journey she hardly knew how time passed away. On her arrival, in the morning, she hastened to the prison. She was received kindly, as before, by the gaoler and his wife, and then attended the turnkey into Joey’s cell. As soon as the door was closed she threw herself down on the bedstead, and wept bitterly, quite heedless of our hero’s remonstrance or attempts to soothe her.
“Oh! it is horrible—too horrible!” cried the almost fainting girl. “What can—what must be done! Either way, misery—disgrace! Lord, forgive me! But my head is turned. That you should be here! That you should be in this strait! Why was it not me? I—I have deserved all and more! prison, death, everything is not too bad for me; but you, my dear, dear boy!”
“Mary, what is the reason of this? I cannot understand. Are matters worse than they were before?” said Joey. “And why should you talk in such a way about yourself? If you ever did wrong, you were driven to it by the conduct of others; but your reformation is all your own.”
“Ah, Joey!” replied Mary; “I should think little of my repentance if I held myself absolved by a few years’ good conduct. No, no; a whole life of repentance is not sufficient for me; I must live on, ever repenting, and must die full of penitence, and imploring for pardon. But why do I talk of myself?”
“What has made you thus, Mary?”
“Joey, I cannot keep it a secret from you; it is useless to attempt it. I have discovered your father and mother!”
“Where are they? and do they know anything of my position?”
“Yes; your mother does, but not your father.”