"If I do promise, I'll keep it!" returned Jenks, in a threatening tone, as he returned the gaze of Leslie.
"Then, for God's sake, promise!" exclaimed Leslie, in a half-despairing voice. "Promise, and I'm safe!"
"Be it so! May I be cursed, if ever I sell you a drop of drinking at this bar, while I am landlord of the 'Stag and Hounds'!" Jenks spoke with with an angry emphasis.
"God be thanked!" murmured the poor drunkard, as he led his child away. "God be thanked! There is hope for me yet."
Hardly had the mother of Lizzie missed her child, ere she entered, leading her father by the hand.
"O, mother!" she exclaimed, with a joy-lit countenance, and in a voice of exultation, "Mr. Jenks has promised."
"Promised what?" Hope sprung up in her heart, on wild and fluttering wings, her face flushed, and then grew deadly pale. She sat panting for a reply.
"That he would never sell me another glass of liquor," said her husband.
A pair of thin, white hands were clasped quickly together, an ashen face was turned upwards, tearless eyes looked their thankfulness to heaven.
"There is hope yet, Ellen," said Leslie.