“In the first place, I propose to send him back to that establishment whence he should never have been released, to Scantlebray’s Asylum.”
“No—no—no!” gasped Judith. “You do not know what that place is. I do. I got into it. I saw how Jamie had been treated.”
“He cannot be treated too severely. He is dangerous. You refuse this alternative?”
“Yes, indeed, I do.”
“Very well. Then I put the matter in the hands of justice, and he is proceeded against and convicted as having attempted my life with poison. To jail he will go.”
It was as Judith had feared. There were but two destinations for Jamie, her dear, dear brother, the son of that blameless father—jail or an asylum.
“Oh, no! no—no! not that!” cried Judith.
“One or the other. I give you six hours to choose,” said Coppinger. Then he went to the door, opened it, and stood looking seaward. Suddenly he started, “Ha! the Black Prince.” He turned in the door and said to Judith: “One hour after sunset come to Pentyre Glaze. Come alone, and tell me your decision. I will wait for that.”