"I am going up to town," I said, "and you are going with me. We will go to Dr. Penn. He has a lodging close by the prison: I have the address. At eight o'clock to-morrow the king himself could not undo this injustice. We have, let me see, how many hours?"
Robert pulled out his old silver watch and brought it to the lantern.
"It is twenty minutes to twelve."
"Rather more than eight hours. Heaven help us! You will get something to eat, Robert, and put the horses at once into the chariot. I will be ready."
I went straight up-stairs, and met Harriet at the door. I pushed her back into the room and took her hands.
"Harriet! Robert has found poor Edmund's hand, with the ring, buried under some wood in Thomas Parker's barn. I am going up to town with him at once, to put the matter into Dr. Penn's hands, and save George Manners' life, if it be not too late."
She wrenched her hands away, and flung herself at my feet. I never saw such a change come over any face. She had had time in the (what must have been) anxious interval of our absence, for some painful enough reflection, and my announcement had broken through the blindness of a selfish mind, and found its way where she seldom let anything come—to her feelings.
"Oh, Dolly! Dolly! will you ever forgive me? Why did I not tell you before? But I thought it was only a dream. And indeed, indeed I thought Mr. Manners had done it. But that man Parker! If it had not been for Mr. Manners being found there, I should have sworn that Parker had done it. Dolly! I saw him that night. He came in and helped. And once I saw him look at Mr. Manners with such a strange expression, and he seemed so anxious to make him say that it was a quarrel, and that he had done it in self-defence. But you know I thought it must be Mr. Manners—and I did so love poor Edmund!"
And she lay sobbing in agony on the ground. I said—
"My love, I pray that it is not too late: but we must not waste time. Help me now, Harriet!"