“Poor, poor Marian!” sobbed the girl, stopping by a doorway. “Told me to read the words she had marked in the Bible, and then to go and do that!”
“Well, well, well,” said the old man, “let’s hope she has gone to a better world; and now, my lass, where are you going?”
“Back to my lodging,” said the girl wearily.
“That gentleman told you to call somewhere, didn’t he?” said Matt.
“Ah, yes,” said the girl abstractedly, “I think so.”
“Now I don’t believe you remember it,” said Matt; “but I happened to hear it, and I’ll write it down. Now, look here;” and he brought out his old, ragged memorandum-book and the lead-pencil stump; and then, using the crown of his hat for a desk, he wrote down the address carefully, tore out half a leaf, and gave it to the girl.
“There, my lass,” he said, “take my advice, and go there; and now I want you to let me have that Bible.”
“What for?” and the girl looked wonderingly at him.
“It’s a whim of mine, that’s all,” said Matt. “But you’ll—”
He paused, for a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and turning round he stood face to face with the juryman who had spoken to the girl.