"Oh yes, very," the mother said, with some color of excitement appearing in her worn face; "it is a friend of ours in England: he has been charged by the Society with some duty that will cost him his life; we have come to intercede for him—to ask you to save him. For the sake of old times, Stefan—"
"Wait a moment," said the other, looking grave. "Do you mean the Englishman?"
"Yes, yes; the same."
"And who has told you what it is purposed to have done?" he asked, with quite a change in his manner.
"No one," she answered, eagerly; "we guess that it is something of great danger."
"And if that is so, are you unfamiliar with persons having to incur danger? Why not an Englishman as well as another? This is an extraordinary freak of yours, Natalie; I cannot understand it. And to have come so far when any one in England—any one of us, I mean—could have told you it was useless."
"But why useless, if you are inclined to interfere?" she
said, boldly, "and I think my father's family have some title to consideration."
"My old friend," said he, in a kindly way, "what is there in the world I would not do for you if it were within my power? But this is not. What you ask is, to put the matter shortly, impossible—impossible!"
In the brief silence that followed the mother heard a slight sigh: she turned instantly, and saw her daughter, as white as death, about to fall. She caught her in her arms with a slight cry of alarm.