"Oh, Hugh, I don't deserve this from you!" was 'Lina's faint response,
as she laid her head upon his bosom, whispering: "Take me away--from
them all--upstairs--on the bed I am so sick, and my head is bursting
open!"
Hugh was strong as a young giant, and lifting gently the yielding form,
he bore it from the room--the bridal room, which she would never enter
again, until he brought her back--and laid her softly down beneath the
windows, dropping tears upon her white, still face, and whispering: "Poor 'Lina!"
As Hugh passed out with his burden in his arms, the bewildered company
seemed to rally; but the convict was the first to act. Turning to Mrs.
Worthington he said: "Eliza, I am here to-night for my children's sake; and now that I have
done what I came to do, I shall leave you, only asking that you continue
to be a mother to the poor girl who is really the only sufferer. The
rest have cause for joy; you in particular," turning to the doctor, who
suddenly seemed to break the spell which had bound him, and springing to
his feet, exclaimed: "Yes, Lily shall he found, Lily shall be found; but I must see my boy
first. Anna, can't we go now, to-night?"
That was impossible, Alice said; and as hers was the only clear head in
the household, she set herself at once to plan for everybody. To the
convict and the doctor she paid no heed; but the tired Anna was
conducted at once to her own room, and made to take the rest she so much
needed. Densie too was cared for kindly, soothingly; for the poor old
woman was nearly crushed with all she had heard; and Alice, as she left
her upon the bed, heard her muttering deliriously to herself: "She wouldn't let her own mother eat with her. She compared me to a
white nigger; and can I receive her now? No, no; and she don't wish it.
Yet I pitied her when her heart snapped to pieces there in the middle of
the room; poor girl, poor girl!"
When Alice returned again to the parlor, the convict had gone. There had
been a short consultation between himself and the doctor, an engagement
to meet in Cincinnati to arrange their plan of search; and then he had
turned again to his once wife, still sitting in her corner, motionless,
white, and paralyzed with nervous terror.
"You need not fear me, Eliza," he said, kindly, "I shall probably never
trouble you again; and though you have no cause to believe my word, I
tell you solemnly that I will never rest until I have found our
daughter, and sent her back to you. Be kind to Densie Densmore; she was
more sinned against than sinning. Good-by, Eliza, good-by."