“My life? Is Britton dead?” she replied.
“What do you mean?” said Gray, impatiently.
“Because I cannot die till he does.”
“Listen to me,” said Gray. “You say that this Hartleton talks of imprisoning Gray. Was that all he said?”
“I wept, and he would not then take from me what the angel had given me. I promised her by a name, as sacred to me as that of Heaven, and I could not even let him have it,—no, no! He pitied my tears, and let me keep the angel’s paper.”
“Paper!—Paper!—What paper?”
“Oh! It is precious!” continued Maud; “I think it is a charm against sickness,—it is, truly, as coming from an angel.”
“Let me see it.”
“Yes, of course; I am to show it to all,—that was what the angel said. You shall see,—but you will not take it—promise me you will not take it.”
“I promise.”