“I do.”
“But your husband may better see his interest in this matter.”
“No—my husband is poor, but he was not always so. The feelings and the habits of a gentleman still cling to him in the sad reverse of fortune we are now enduring. Go, wretched man, save yourself if you can, and ask mercy of Heaven for the crime I hear you have committed.”
“That crime was in self-defence,” said Gray; “I will risk all, and remain here until this house has been searched.”
“I cannot hinder you. On your own head be the risk.”
Gray stood near the door, listening attentively, and presently he heard descending footsteps, which from their number, he supposed rightly to be the officers returning from their unsuccessful search in the upper rooms of the house.
He drew his pistol from his breast, and pointing to the child, said in a whisper to the weeping mother,—
“One word as they pass, and I fire.”
His honor may be conceived, but scarcely described, as the door at this moment was opened, pinning him against the wall behind it, and the officer who was conducting the search, put his head into the room, saying,—
“No alarm, I suppose?”