"No," says Jack, judicially, "because he knows he would be hung if he did; but if he was sure he wouldn't be, he'd do it like a shot! It's going rather far with him, you know, to bolster him!"
I shudder. Has this wretched hand of mine really dealt him a smashing blow on the head? Perhaps it will wither up.
"What a mercy it is there is a gallows in this country!" I say, with a sigh. "It is such a protection!"
"'Hard words break no bones,"' says Jack cheerfully, "and he won't whip you, you're too big! Don't bother, Nell," he says, putting his arm round my shoulders; "you shall come and live with me some day, and we'll be as jolly as sand-boys."
"Dear old fellow!" I say, rubbing my miserable face against his cool red and white one. "You'll sit next to me at breakfast to-morrow, won't you?"
"All right," he says, and presently gives me a hug and goes away.
Oh, if only to-morrow would never come! If I might go to sleep now, this minute, and not wake up again for five years! Papa would surely have forgotten then? If time would only step over breakfast, even, I should be safe; for by dinner time Alice's elopement will be known, and the one overpowering fact will have cast all other misdemeanours into the shade. But, despite prayer and longing, the cold grey dawn comes at last. Groaning I rise and attire myself for the slaughter. As in a dream, I go downstairs and listen to prayers, and then—I will not write down the details of that breakfast. I must be a hardened sinner, indeed, for when it is over my spirit is not broken, nor my hair grey. I am even able to reflect with complacency on the fact that I still possess my full complement of arms, legs, teeth, etc.; for at one time I trembled for each and all of these valuables. And now I am watching Alice put on her cloak and hat. She is very pale, very trembling, but she does not cry; and when she is dressed, she goes into mother's room and kisses her, saying "she is going to church."
