Nothing was further from him than the temptation to break this bright spell by speech.
“We heard almost every word of what you said,” Kate was saying. “When you began we were in this room, crouched there by the window—that is, Ethel and I were, for mamma refused to even pretend to listen—and at first we thought it was one of the mob, and then Ethel recognized your voice. That almost annoyed me, for it seemed as if I should have been—-at least, equally quick to know it—that is, I mean, I’ve heard you speak so much more than she has. And then we both hurried up-stairs, and lifted the window—and oh! but we listened!
“And from the moment we knew it was you—that you were here—we felt perfectly safe. It doesn’t seem now that we were very much afraid, even before that, although probably we were. There was a lot of hooting, and that dreadful blowing on horns, and all that, and once somebody rang the door-bell; but, beyond throwing snowballs, nothing else was done. So I daresay they only wanted to scare us. Of course it was the fire that made us really nervous. We got that brave girl’s warning about the mob’s coming here just a little while before the sky began to redden with the blaze; and that sight, coming on the heels of her letter—”
“What girl? What letter?” asked Reuben.
“Here it is,” answered Kate, drawing a crumpled sheet of paper from her bosom, and reading aloud:
“Dear Miss Minster:
“I have just heard that a crowd of men are coming to your house to-night to do violent things. I am starting out to try and bring you help. Meanwhile, I send you my father, who will do whatever you tell him to do.
“Gratefully yours,
“Jessica Lawton.”
Reuben had risen abruptly to his feet before the signature was reached.