“Let them take me,” he said weakly. “It’s of no use.”
“Hush?” she said, full now of a wild desire to save him from disgrace and to aid him in his efforts to redeem the past. “Let me think. Yes; you want money.”
Full of the recollection of his former appeal, she took out her keys, opened a drawer, while he half knelt, half crouched upon the carpet. She had not much there, and, whispering to him to wait, she left the room, locking him in, and ran up to her chamber.
Harry started as he heard the snap made by the lock; but he subsided again in a helpless state, and with the disease that had been hanging about waiting to make its grand attack, gradually sapping its way.
In five minutes Louise was back.
“I have not much money,” she whispered hastily; “but here are my watch, two chains, and all the jewels I have, dear. They are worth a great deal.”
“Too late!” he moaned as he gazed up at her piteously, and for the moment he was delirious, as a sudden flush of fever suffused his cheeks.
“It is not too late,” she said firmly. “Take them. Now tell me what next to do.”
“What next?” he said vacantly.
“Yes. You must not stay here. My father may return at any time. Brother—Harry—shall I get you some clothes?”