“Ah, husband, is that you?” she said. “I was going to send a message to you to-morrow morning to tell you not to come back.”
“Why; what is the matter?” asked her husband.
“What is the matter? God in heaven!” she replied. “The sergeants were here two hours and a half, waiting to take you to prison.”
“To prison!” said he; “Why to prison? Have I done anything wrong? To whom do I owe any money? Who brings any charge against me?”
“I know nothing about it,” said the cunning wench, “but they evidently wanted to do you harm.”
“But did they not tell you,” asked her husband, “why they wanted me?”
“No,” she replied; “nothing, except that if they laid hands on you, you would not get out of prison for a long time.”
“Thank God they haven’t caught me yet. Good bye, I am going back.”
“Where are you going?” she asked—though she was glad to get rid of him.
“Whence I came,” he replied.