o talk to you in another room. There's
somethin' I forgot, an' some of them may come in any time now. Will
you do a wretched woman a small kindness?" She looked at me awful
wishful when she said that, an' I nodded my head ag'in.

'"They told me not to let you in unless you gave me a card, and I--I
am so troubled I forgot to ask you for it at the door. Will you give
me the card now, an' please not give me away to the boys? I can't
stand no more trouble. I--I think it was your being so late made me
forget. Why was it?"

'For a minit I was stumped, an' then an idee come to me. "Ter tell the
truth," I says, as bold as you please, "I've been in a little trouble,
an' I forgot that card. You see, I had to put off comin' here on
account of a couple of perlecemen that was on the look-out fer me.
I've only jest give 'em the slip." You see I thought when she heard
that she'd make 'lowance fer the card, an' I wanted to talk more with
that sick boy, fer I b'leeved he was tellin' the truth. But, my! she
jumps up, lookin' scairt to pieces, an' she says:

'"The perlece! Do you think they will follow you? can they? Merciful
goodness! we can't risk it. I'm almost broke down, but I'll call up
Bob, an' you must go right away. Don't you see it won't do?" She
snatched a key out of her pocket. "Come," she says. "Mercy, what a
risk!" I had took off my glasses and laid 'em down on the table by the
bed. I picked up the black veil I had dropped on the chair, and jest
as she went to take the key out of the hall-door--she had to turn her
back to do it--I went to the table and took up my glasses, and tried
to ketch that poor boy's eye and make him a sign; but, my! he laid
there with his eyes shet, an' sech a look of misery upon his poor
face, an' all at once it struck me that I hadn't spoke once, an' that
he hadn't noticed the trumpet till the woman come in, and then he
thought he'd been a-beggin' help of a deef woman. But I hadn't no
chance then, an' as soon as she'd picked out the key, she says, "I'll
have to let yer out front. It won't do to risk your being seen coming
out by any other way."

'The way was clear when I got out; but I most dreaded meeting one of
them men som'ers, and I jest started straight to find you.'

'One moment,' I said hurriedly, as she now ceased. 'You spoke of Miss
Jenrys--why did you think of going to her?'

'Why, she was nearest of anybody, an' I thought you was as likely as
not to be there.'

CHAPTER XXXI