"My dear sir, I have nothing more to reflect upon; and you will oblige me by terminating this business as speedily as possible."
The solicitor returned to the prison; and Markham, whom he now considered to be foolish or mad, instead of improvident and extravagant, threw himself back in the vehicle, and gave way to his reflections. His eyes were, however, turned towards the road leading to the Bench; for he was anxious to watch for the re-appearance of his agent.
Ten minutes had elapsed, when his attention was directed to two ladies who passed by the cab, and advanced towards the prison-gate.
He leant forward—he could not be mistaken:—no—it was indeed she—the idol of his adoration—the being whom he loved with a species of worship! She was walking with the countess. They were on their way to visit the count in his confinement; but Richard could not catch a glimpse of their countenances—though he divined full well that they wore not an expression of joy. It was not, however, necessary for him to behold Isabella's face, in order to recognise her:—he knew her by her symmetrical form, the elegant contours of which, even the ample shawl she wore could not hide: he knew her by her step—by her graceful and dignified gesture—by her lady-like, and yet unassuming gait.
Oh! how speedily, thought he within himself, were she and her parents to be restored to happiness again!
In about a quarter of an hour after the ladies had entered the prison, Dyson returned to his client.
"Is it all settled?" demanded Markham.
"Every thing," answered the lawyer.
"And when can the count leave the prison?"
"Almost immediately," replied Dyson, as he entered the vehicle once more.