"She 'never repents!'"
"God grant she may, before it is too late!" said Ida, looking upward; "but I do not rely upon her relentings for your deliverance. We must consider. Bear up, and remember your vow!"
But her own heart sank. Contrivance and expedient presented themselves,—all inadequate to the emergency.
"Are you willing to brave Richard's wrath, if it affects only yourself?" she asked.
"I am! to the shedding of my blood. Your face brightens! Is there any hope?"
"Iniquity defeats itself!" said Ida devoutly. "The Helper of the tempted will provide a means of escape. Have we not time, and the knowledge that he is in the city, and liberty to communicate with him? Write him a warning, and final farewell;—he must fly for his life—he will do it! The traitor is seldom brave!" she said inwardly.
Mrs. Read's nerveless fingers dropped the pen.
"I cannot!"
"You must!" said Ida, authoritatively. "His life—your peace, depend upon it. Write! I will dictate."
The note was short and imperative. If the hand quivered, the heart that indited did not.