"I have been revolving in my mind a plan of escape for us both," said Lily, proceeding to detail it to her eager listener.
But Fanny sighed and looked down at her skeleton limbs and the heavy chain.
"That would do for you, but not for me," she said; "I am too weak. It is a long way from here to the city. We have no money—we have to walk several miles to your father's house. You see I know the distance—I came here in daylight. I can tell you the way to go, but my wasted limbs would not carry me a mile. I should only fall by the way, and be a hindrance to you."
Lily sighed as her clear-headed companion thus presented the difficulties in their way.
"I had forgotten your exceeding weakness in the ardor of my hopes," said she.
"Besides," continued Fanny, "look at this chain. We have nothing with which to cut the leather or file the iron. I cannot get away from this staple."
"Can I, then, do nothing to help you, my poor creature?" cried Lily, in great distress as she saw how futile was the plan she had proposed.
"Of course there is," answered Fanny, hopefully. "The plan you spoke of is quite feasible for you. Put it into operation as soon as possible. I feel almost assured of your success. Then as soon as you have told your story to your father, tell him mine also, and entreat him to send a force of police out here to arrest the Leverets and liberate me."
"Certainly, I could do that," said Lily, brightening, "that would be the better plan after all—but still I cannot bear to leave you here alone, poor soul, in your wretchedness. Who can tell what may happen ere relief can reach you? Perhaps this slow starvation may finish its dreadful work upon you."
"Never fear," was the hopeful reply. "I have subsisted like this for two long years, yet I feel the flame of life still brightly burning in my wasted frame. And, think you, I cannot endure a few more days' confinement when you have given me such hope to feed upon?"