The young man came nearer, and whispered exultantly, “Splendid case—they’re proud of it even here. And I think we shall pull him out of it—I do, indeed.”
“Oh—I am so glad to hear you say so, sir,” said the girl, gratefully.
“Yes—I think he’s all right; I shall try everything. The only difficulty is that he’s so close about it that I can get nothing out of him. But—won’t he make a lovely prisoner; we shan’t be able to get into Court for the petticoats!”
The young man walked briskly away, and Clara passed into the room. The warder who had brought her to the door, and who had stood aside, while the young barrister spoke, opened the door, and followed her in. Another warder, who had been lounging near a high barred window, glanced at her for a moment; and then she felt her hands grasped by those of Philip Chater.
“My child! How do you come to be here? Are you alone?”
Hurriedly and tearfully, she explained all that had happened; how she had left a note at home, telling them that she was safe, and with friends—and would write more fully at a later time; how she had seen Miss Barnshaw, and how she had a message for him. And, loyal and brave as she had been through everything, her heart seemed to sink deeper and deeper, as she saw the brightness on his face, when he heard what that message was.
The warders, seeing in these two, as they imagined, a pair of sweethearts, took but little notice of them, beyond keeping a sharp eye upon them. In reply to Philip’s eager questions, Clara told him of the lodging she had taken, and mentioned the name of her landlady—and of the Captain, husband of that landlady.
“There is a Providence in this,” whispered Philip, eagerly. He appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, and then turned swiftly to the girl. “I know this man Quist—a good and honest man, with whom you are safe. Say nothing to him about me, or about my knowledge of him. Now, don’t start or cry out—come closer to me, and listen to what I say. I shall be out of this—I must—within a few hours. My defence—my life—everything depends on that—and on myself. There is some one I must find; to stay here means death—within a given time.”
“Time’s up!” exclaimed one warder, shaking his keys.
“An instant I beg.” He turned again to the girl. “If you could loiter near the prison—at the back of it, so far as I can discover,—each night—can you?”