"Yes, Miss Nancy," put in Biddy. "Ann is just so narvous ever since that ugly dream, that she hain't no faith to-day in anything."
"Have you baked a pretty cake, and got plenty of nice confections ready to give Henry a celebration supper, good Biddy?" inquired Miss Nancy.
"Ah, yes, everything is ready, only just look how light and brown my cake is," and she brought a fine large cake from the pantry, the savory odor of which would have tempted an anchorite.
"Then, too," continued the provident Biddy, "the peaches are unusually soft and sweet. I have pared and sugared them, and they are on the ice now; oh, we'll have a rale feast."
"Thanks, thanks, good friends," I said, in a voice choked with emotion.
"Only just see," exclaimed Biddy, "here comes Louise, running as fast as her legs will carry her; she's come to be the first to tell you that Henry is free."
I rushed with Biddy to the door, and Miss Nancy followed. We were all eager to hear the good news.
"Mercy, Louise, what's the matter?" I cried, for her face terrified me. She was pale as death; her eyes, black and wild, seemed starting from their sockets, and around her mouth there was that ghastly, livid look, that almost congealed my blood.
"Oh, God!" she cried in frenzy, "God have mercy on us all!" and reeled against the wall.
"Speak, woman, speak, in heaven's name," I shouted aloud. "Henry! Henry! Henry! has aught happened to him?"