“She will need strength for two, and her love will give it to her,” thought John, a dull pain at his heart with which some self-contempt was mingled. But it was no time to consider himself with Allison’s eyes on his face.
“I could trust him to you,” said Allison, trying to smile, “because ye have a kind heart, though folk say ye’re a wee hard whiles. But I ken what you have been to the lads at the manse to win them, and to warn them, and to keep them out of mischief. It would be the saving o’ my Willie if you would but take him in hand.”
“I would gladly help him, or any one in trouble,” said John, “but how could I do it in secret?”
“But you needna do it in secret. It’s not Willie that needs to hide. When the prison-door opens to him he will be free to go where he likes—to his own house, and his own land, to bide there at his pleasure. But he will have a sore heart in going to a desolate house. And the thought of going alone to a far-off land will dismay him. The help of such a friend as you is what he needs, though it may seem a strange thing in me to ask it from you.”
“You have a right to all the help that I can give you, as has any one in trouble. But why should you not go to him yourself?”
“But that is what I cannot tell you. I would never be suffered to go with him if I were to be found. I have been asking you to help my Willie, but indeed it is myself that you will help most. I cannot go with him for both our sakes, but I will follow him. He will be watched through every step of the Way, and I would be brought back again from the ends of the earth. And then,” added Allison her face falling into the gloom of which John had seen but little, but which his mother had seen often during the first days of their acquaintance, “then I should just lie down and die.”
John made a sudden, impatient movement, and then he said:
“And what am I to say to this man from you?”
“Willie his name is—Willie Bain,” said Allison, smiling faintly. “Oh! ye’ll ken what to say to him when ye see him. And ye are not to let him know that ye are sent from me till ye are sure of him. He is a lad who is moved by the first thought that comes, and his first thought when he hears of me will be to try to see me. And he must not try,” repeated she, “for he will be watched, and then we will be parted forever.”
There was a pause, and then John said: