“There, now,” said Romer, “I’ve got that off my hands. Now, let’s bring him around. Luckily, I have a flask of brandy in my desk.”
He rubbed some brandy upon Arthur’s temples, and poured a drop or two between his lips.
“You fan him, will you?” he asked of Hetzel.
Mrs. Hart proffered her fan. Hetzel took it, and fanned Arthur’s face vigorously.
Mrs. Hart looked on for a moment in silence. At length she said, “Well, I can’t wait here. I am going to the prison.”
“Oh, to be sure; I had forgotten,” said Romer. “I’ll send a man to obtain admittance for you.”
“May I also bear you company?” inquired Mr. Flint.
Mrs. Hart replied, “That is very kind of you. I should like very much to have you.”
Romer rang his bell for a second time. A negro answered it.
“Robert,” said Romer, “go with this lady and gentleman to the Tombs, and tell the warden that they are special friends of mine, and that I shall thank him to show them every courtesy in his power.”