But presently she heard the clank of the poor captive's chain, as she turned restlessly on her hard bed, and caught the sound of her groans.
"Poor Fanny," she thought, "how will she bear this sad disappointment when she hoped so much from my escape!"
Weak and trembling she rose from the bed, and taking the lamp in her hand staggeringly descended the stairs in quest of her poor companion in captivity and sorrow.
Fanny lay extended on the cot, moaning piteously. She cried out in surprise and terror, fearing that Haidee had returned to threaten and abuse her. But she soon saw that it was the sweet face of the captive girl that beamed upon her.
"My God, Miss Lawrence, is it you?" she said. "I thought, I hoped that you had escaped!"
Lily threw herself down upon the hard stone floor and wept piteously. The trial was hard upon herself, as affecting her own individual welfare.
Now the burden of this poor creature's sorrow added to the weight of her own made it almost insupportable. It was some time before she could summon sufficient calmness to relate her mournful story to the suffering creature.
"It is all over," she said in conclusion. "There is no hope of escape from our prison, and death is before us."
Fanny lay still, moaning now and then in pain. She made no attempt to rise, and at last Lily noticed the fact.
"What is the matter with you, my poor soul?" said she. "Are you worse? Are you unable to rise?"