“Quite sure, sir, and Ada will be rescued. Sir, we shall owe you a debt of gratitude we never can repay. Heaven alone must give you your reward.”
Learmont winced a little at the idea of being handed over to Heaven for judgment, and waving his hand, he said,—
“Enough! I seek for no reward. What I do, I do freely.”
“I will never now,” said Albert, “until this man comes, lose sight of the steps of your house, sir.”
“He is sure to come.”
“And I would not then miss him for ten thousand worlds.”
“I will guard against any trifling accident: such as your missing being here when he comes, of his eluding your pursuit; for I will give him money, and encourage him to come again.”
“You are too kind, sir,” said Albert, in a broken voice.
“Not a whit—not a whit. I shall, however, exact one promise from you.”
“Do but give it a name, sir.”