“She will soon be better,” said Mrs. Fletcher, trying to smile: “leave her to me, and go where your heart bids you.”
Mr. Fletcher drew Mary’s arm within his, and hastened with her to the prison, preparing her by the way for the probable disappointment she would meet with in being refused admittance. Mary declared that she would get in, by some means or other; and in answer to the objection that it might be impossible, she declared that, in such cases, women had been known to conquer what are often called impossibilities.
As Mr. Fletcher expected, the jailer had received strict orders to admit no person whatever to Mr. Byerley’s presence. There was no use in entreaty, or in any mode of representing the case. He must obey orders. He did not refuse, however, to answer questions. The gentleman seemed in good spirits, he said, except that he was vexed at not having an apartment to himself.
“Not an apartment to himself! Where was he then?”
“In the same room with some debtors.”
“Any body else?”
“Yes; two or three felons, for whom there was not room elsewhere.”
Mary’s heart sickened as she turned away.
“I will go to M. Béranger’s,” said she: “he will not, he shall not deny me.”
“This is the way,” said Mr. Fletcher; “you are turning homewards.”