"To-morrow," said the attorney. "That is for the court to do."
Darrel went to Trove, who now sat weeping, his face upon his hands.
"Oh the great river o' tears!" said Darrel, touching the boy's head. "Beyond it are the green shores of happiness, an' I have crossed, an' soon shalt thou. Stop, boy, it ill becomes thee. There is a dear, dear child whose heart is breaking. Go an' comfort her."
Trove sat as if he had not heard. The tinker went to his table and hurriedly wrote a line or two, folding and directing it.
"Go quickly, boy, an' tell her, an' then take this to Riley Brooke for me."
The young man struggled a moment for self-mastery, rose with a sigh and a stern look, and put on his hat.
"It is about bail?" said he, in a whisper.
"Yes," Darrel answered.
Trove hurried away. A woman met him at the door, within which
Polly boarded.
"Is she better?" Trove asked.