“Ha’ ye friends in London?”
“I’ve no enemies.”
“Oh, but this’ll never do!” he cried. “What’ll happen to ye?”
“Perhaps I’ll have some adventures—I hope so—an’—”
“Adventures, guid God!”
“—And I may make my fortune.”
He threw up his hands muttering, “Oh, dear! the money has turned her head!”
She laid her hand on his arm. “I want you to help me,” she said softly; “that is, if you can do it without getting yourself into trouble. The express stops at Kenny Junction at five minutes to nine, but that’s six miles away, and I must take some luggage—”
“Mercy on us!” he exclaimed, “how can ye think it out so quick?”
“I’ve thought it out, and dreamed of it, and cried about it, Sam, oh, a hundred times! Now, can you get some one with a cart, or anything on wheels, to meet me, secretly, outside of the village, at seven o’clock?”