A scream of horror broke from the poor woman's lips; but they proceeded to pinion her hands firmly, regardless of the wild entreaties for freedom that she eagerly poured forth.
"Oh, be gentle; do not hurt her, if you must take her away!" Flower exclaimed, pleadingly; and at that Mrs. Fielding looked at her almost tenderly and wailed out:
"Oh, Flower, do not let them take me away! I am not mad—I am not mad! Oh, save me—you are my only friend!"
Smothering her wild cries with a handkerchief, the three men bore her rapidly away.
[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
When Flower saw the miserable Mrs. Fielding borne away so rudely by her captors her tender heart swelled with pity for the unhappy woman, and she started to run after them to beg them to be gentler with the poor creature.
But she had not taken a dozen steps before her arm was caught in a tight grasp by the old sexton, who whirled her about, and said, sharply:
"What would you do? Run after that mad woman, who hates you?"