He held out a letter. Judith reluctantly took it. She had risen; she had not asked Scantlebray to take a seat.
“Yes,” she said, “that is the writing of Captain Coppinger.”
“A good bold hand,” said the agent, “and see here is his seal with his motto, Thorough. You know that?”
“Yes—it is his seal.”
“Now read it.”
Judith knelt at the hearth.
“Blow, blow the fire up, my beauty,” called Scantlebray to Jamie. “Don’t you see that your sister wants light, and is running the risk of blinding her sweet pretty eyes.” Jamie puffed vigorously and sent out sparks snapping and blinking, and brought the wood to a white glow, by which Judith was able to decipher the letter.
It was a formal order from Cruel Coppinger to Mr. Obadiah Scantlebray to remove James Trevisa that evening, after dark, from Othello Cottage to his idiot asylum, to remain there in custody till further notice. Judith remained kneeling, with her eyes on the letter, after she had read it. She was considering. It was clear to her that directly after leaving her Captain Coppinger had formed his own resolve, either impatient of waiting the six hours he had allowed her, or because he thought the alternative of the Asylum the only one that could be accepted by her, and it was one that would content himself, as the only one that avoided exposure of a scandal. But there were other asylums than that of Scantlebray, and others were presumably better managed, and those in charge less severe in their dealings. She had considered this, as she looked into the fire. But a new idea had also at the same time lightened in her mind, and she had a third alternative to propose.
She had been waiting for the moment when to go to the Glaze and see Coppinger, and just at the moment when she was about to send Jamie to bed and leave the house Scantlebray came in.
“Now then,” said the agent, “what do you think of me—that I am a real friend?”