“Ah! well, you’ve talked about it quite enough.”
“No, no; I must talk about it—about Harry. Oh! uncle! uncle! after all this suffering for him to be taken after all! The horror! the shame! the disgrace! You must—you shall save him!”
“I’m going to try all I know, my darling; but when once you have started the police it’s hard work to keep them back.”
“How could you do it?”
“How could I do it?” cried the old man testily. “I didn’t do it to find him, of course, but to try and run you to earth. How could I know that Harry was alive?”
“But you will not let him be imprisoned. Has he not suffered enough?”
“Not more than he deserves to suffer, my child; but we must stop all that judge and jury business somehow. Get Van Heldre not to prosecute.”
“I will go down on my knees to him, and stay at his feet till he promises to spare him—poor foolish boy! But, uncle, what are you going to do? You will not send word down?”
“Not send word? Why, I sent to Madelaine a couple of hours ago, while you lay there insensible.”
“You sent?”