Margaret spoke with calmness and dignity. Even Jacob perceived this, and he could not help feeling an unwonted admiration for the woman he had spurned. He had never felt her value till, by her own act, a wall of separation was built up between them.
“I have no right to complain,” said Jacob, humbly. “I do not deserve your confidence, Margaret; but you shall find, hereafter, that I am more trustworthy than you think.”
“Heaven grant it, Jacob! Do not think me unkind or vindictive, if I refuse at once to burden you with myself. I should not survive a second repulse. What I have suffered from our estrangement, God only knows. But it shall be forgotten.”
“How long shall I be obliged to remain here?”
“I do not know. At any rate, only till I can arrange for your release. I will lose no time about it.”
The turnkey appeared, and Margaret went forth from the cell, leaving Jacob inexpressibly relieved by the promise she had made. He knew Margaret well enough to feel assured that she would keep it.
Not less relieved was Margaret. The black cloud which hung over her was dissipated. Now she could resign herself even to the alienation of Jacob’s affection, since she was assured that, by the laws of God and man, she was still his wedded wife. He had treated her most basely and unworthily, that she knew full well; but this guilt and mortification, at least, she was spared. She felt new strength in her limbs, new cheerfulness in her heart. She bent her steps at once to Mr. Sharp’s office. To him she made known her change of determination, and her desire to suppress her evidence, that the prisoner might be released.
Mr. Sharp was embarrassed. This sudden whim, as he called it, threatened to disarrange all his plans.
He paced the office, while Margaret followed him with an anxious look.
“Is it too late?” she inquired.