“Then why don’t you act like a sensible girl? Listen; nobody must know that I have been here; not even the governor. I’m going to steal down to the harbour by and by; and I shall get Joe Lennen or Dick Paul to take me over to France. If I stay here I shall be arrested, and disgrace you all. There never was such an unlucky fellow as I am. Here, once more, what money have you?”
“Very little, Harry,” she said; “about three sovereigns.”
“Has aunt any? No; she must not know that I’m here. Louie, you must let me have your watch.”
“Yes, Harry,” she said, as she stood before him, cold and striving hard to master her emotion as a mute feeling of despair attacked her.
“And you’ll help me, won’t you?”
“Yes, Harry,” she said, in the same cold mechanical way.
“Let me have your chain and rings, and any other trinket that will fetch money. Must have something to live upon till this trouble has blown over. You see I am penniless; I am not a thief. I shall soon get right again, and you shall have all these things a dozen times over.” She suppressed a sigh. “Be quick then—there’s a good girl! I’ve no time to waste.”
Louise moved across the room to the drawers, and took from the top a small rosewood box, which she placed upon the table. Then taking her watch from her waist, she was in the act of unfastening the chain, when there was the sound of a closing door below, and her father’s voice, sounding loud and excited, as it called her by name.