"Has Leah been to see you?" Blanche asked him.
"Yes, twice; and she considers herself very hardly dealt by that she may not come here to nurse me," he replied.
"Could she not be here?"
I shook my head. "It would not be safe, Blanche. It would be running another risk. You see, trouble would fall upon others as well as Tom, were he discovered now: upon me, and more especially upon Lennard."
"They would be brought to trial for concealing me, just as I was brought to trial for a different crime," said Tom lightly. "Our English laws are comprehensive, I assure you, Blanche. Poor Leah says it is cruel not to let her see the end. I asked her what good she'd derive from it."
Blanche gave a sobbing sigh. "How can you talk so lightly, Tom?"
"Lightly!" he cried, in apparent astonishment. "I don't myself see very much that's light in that. When the end is at hand, Blanche, why ignore it?"
She turned her face again to him, burying it upon his arm, in utmost sorrow.
"Don't, Blanche!" he said, his voice trembling. "There's nothing to cry for; nothing. My darling sister, can't you see what a life mine has been for months past: pain of body, distress and apprehension of mind! Think what a glorious change it will be to leave all this for Heaven!"
"Are you sure of going there, dear?" she whispered. "Have you made your peace?"