"Then, unless he outlives this tyranny of power, he will die a
prisoner, Elizabeth. I will go with you to him. I can die with him.
God, certainly, does not require me to stay here longer, for He has
sent you to me."

"He has sent me for _him!_" exclaimed Elizabeth. "I am here to make
him free." She did not add, "If I were you, my life for his!" but
again, in spite of her, she thought it, and a terrible strength of
pride possessed her at that moment.

"Speak on," was the eager, tremulous response. "You are here to set
him free, God knows; but at least I believe wholly in you. What will
you do, Elizabeth?"

"Go to the officer tomorrow. Tell him everything that is to be told.
If he is human"--

"That is what I doubt. He knows what petitions I presented and caused
to be presented to his predecessor."

"You?"

"I?--who but I? Do you think I have been idle, or that I have left
anything undone that I could think to do? Child, the sun has never
risen on me since I saw him last! They say I am dead to the world.
But they who say it know not how terribly true their words are.
Shall I tell _you_ how many times, when the weary days have come to
an end, I have said, in the morning I would make that loathsome
bargain with General Saterges, and in the morning God's grace, as I
believe, has alone prevented me? Do you think that it is because I
love myself better than him, that I have not bought his freedom at
this price? It is because I know him,--because I am sure that
liberty at such price would be worthless to him. I cannot torture
him with the belief that I am unfaithful, nor suffer him to look on
me as a sacrifice. We can endure what God allows. Trust me. You have
done so bravely, you are yourself so true, believe in me. I am
really no coward. I am not a selfish woman."

"Forgive me," said Elizabeth, most humbly. Her pride had left her
defenceless in its flight. If there was not now the true, brave,
generous woman to lift and proclaim herself from the humiliation of
her mistake, alas for her!

The woman was there,--ready and true,--was there. Humbled, yet
resolute, she spoke,--and in her speaking was the triumph of a
spirit that should never again surrender its stronghold of peace.

"You must direct me, Madam. Show me how I shall find this minister.
I will speak then as God's servants spoke of old,--trusting in Him.
If the man will not hear me, then I will conduct you to Foray. You
shall see Mr. Manuel. You can live