“You be—my word!—you be real bad!” he said.
“I am,” said Annie hoarsely. “I can scarcely speak. It is—my—sin, Sam—that has—found me out.”
“Your sin!” said Sam. “You be a hangel o’ light.”
Annie laid her little, white, burning hand on his.
“I can’t go to the docks,” she said. “I can’t go anywhere—except—except—oh, I must be quick!—oh, my senses will go! Everything swims before me. Sam, I must tell you the truth. Sam, hold me for a minute.”
He did so. The street in which they found themselves was quiet as yet. There were only a few passers-by, and these where hurrying off to their respective employments. Annie put her hand into the little pocket which contained her money. She took out her purse and gave Sam a five-pound note.
“Go,” she said, “to-day to Rashleigh, the place where your sister has been. Go to the Rectory and tell them that I—Annie Brooke—have found out—the truth of one text: ‘Be sure your sin will find you out.’ Tell them that from me, and be quick—be very quick. Go at once. But first of all take me to the nearest hospital.”
Before poor Sam could quite understand all Annie’s instructions the girl herself was quite delirious. There was nothing for it but to lift her into his strong arms and carry her to a large hospital in the neighbourhood of Islington. There she was instantly admitted, and, after a very brief delay, was conveyed to the fever ward.