“She has come! She has hunted me down at last!” he cried, in hollow tones, and shrinking further down in the bed, but with his eyes still fastened as if by magnetism upon Editha.
“Father,” cried Milly, cheerfully, “I’ll have something nice for you in a moment.”
“No, no; don’t let them take me away to jail; I ain’t able to go to prison,” he moaned, feebly, and trembling as if with fear.
His wife hastened to his side.
“No, John; no one shall disturb you or harm you,” she said, soothingly. “His mind is weak, ma’am, when he first wakes,” she continued, turning to Editha.
“No, my mind isn’t weak,” the man replied, impatiently. “I know her, and she’s found me out at last;” and, raising his emaciated hand, he pointed with one long, bony finger at their visitor.
“John, be quiet. You do not know the lady; she is a stranger, who came with Milly to help us,” returned his wife, trying to quiet him.
“She’s found me out at last,” he repeated, his eyes still fixed upon Editha. “She’s the rich chap’s girl, whose house we—Tom Drake and I—cracked three or four years ago. She was asleep when we went into her room and stole her trinkets; but she looked so beautiful that I’ve never forgotten her face. I tried to make Tom leave her bracelets and rings, but he wouldn’t. It’s Miss Dalton, Maria, and I tell you she’s come to send me to prison.”
CHAPTER XVIII
JOHN LOKER’S CONFESSION
The man had risen on his elbow, and was staring with the most abject fear at Editha, trembling and shivering until his teeth chattered in his head.