“No, ma'am; I walked.”
Mrs. Otis stopped and looked at Madelon with a gasp, then at her son. “She's out of her head, I'm afraid,” said she.
“You didn't really walk over from Ware Centre?” questioned Jim.
“Yes, I did,” replied Madelon. She stood up with sudden decision. “I want to see you a minute,” she said to Jim. Then she turned to Mrs. Otis. “I don't need anything to take,” said she. “I was only a little dizzy for a minute when I came into this warm room. I feel better now. I only want to ask your son a question, then I must go home—”
Before Mrs. Otis could speak she asked the question with no preface.
“Didn't you see him give me the knife?” she cried out, with fiercely imploring eyes upon Jim Otis's face.
The young man turned deadly white. He looked at her and did not answer.
“Didn't you?” she repeated.
“What knife?” asked Jim Otis, slowly.
“You know what knife! The knife that my brother handed me when I started home from the ball—the knife that I stabbed Lot Gordon with. Tell me that you saw it, that you saw me take it, here before your mother, and then you must go to New Salem and testify, and set Burr Gordon free! He is in prison for murder, and I am guilty, and they will not believe it. You must tell them, and they will. You saw my brother give me that knife.”