“Do you suppose,” said the magistrate, pausing, “that the young woman will accept an invitation so mysterious?”
“I fear she will,” replied Butler.
“Why do you use the word fear it?” said the magistrate.
“Because I am apprehensive for her safety, in meeting at such a time and place, one who had something of the manner of a desperado, and whose message was of a character so inexplicable.”
“Her safety shall be cared for,” said the magistrate. “Mr. Butler, I am concerned I cannot immediately discharge you from confinement, but I hope you will not be long detained.—Remove Mr. Butler, and let him be provided with decent accommodation in all respects.”
He was conducted back to the prison accordingly; but, in the food offered to him, as well as in the apartment in which he was lodged, the recommendation of the magistrate was strictly attended to.
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.
Dark and eerie was the night,
And lonely was the way,
As Janet, wi’ her green mantell,
To Miles’ Cross she did gae.
Old Ballad.
Leaving Butler to all the uncomfortable thoughts attached to his new situation, among which the most predominant was his feeling that he was, by his confinement, deprived of all possibility of assisting the family at St. Leonard’s in their greatest need, we return to Jeanie Deans, who had seen him depart, without an opportunity of farther explanation, in all that agony of mind with which the female heart bids adieu to the complicated sensations so well described by Coleridge,—