"There is no need of that," said she; "there is no real danger."

"I rather think from the look of that ruffian at the gate that there will be some such price," said Dudleigh, carelessly. "If I had only brought my pistols, all would be easy. Can it be managed? How shall we do it? Do you think that you have nerve enough, Miss Dalton, to witness a fight?"

"Yes," said Edith, calmly.

"If I had my pistols," said Dudleigh, thoughtfully, "I might--But as it is, if they, see you accompanying me, they will a.s.semble in force."

"Yes," said Edith, sadly, for she began to see difficulties.

"Now do you think that if you are with me the porter will open the gates?"

"He will not."

"Well, we must get out in some other way. Can you climb the wall? I might climb and help you over."

"Yes, but they would follow and prevent us."

Dudleigh looked at the floor. Then he put his small gloved hand on his forehead, and appeared for a few moments to be lost in thought.

"Miss Dalton," said he at last, "I am at your service. Can you tell me what I can do?--for to save my life I can think of nothing just now.

Give me my orders."

Edith looked perplexed. She knew that this man could not force his way unarmed through the gates. She did not feel inclined just yet to tell him to arm himself and shoot any one dead who opposed him. She could not bear to think of that. But here was Dudleigh, ready.

"Have you any fire-arms in the house?" he asked.

"No," said Edith, "and, besides, I can not bear just yet to cause any thing like bloodshed."

"If not, then you can not get free at once. Can you wait one day, or two days?"

"One or two days!" said Edith. "Oh yes; one or two weeks, or even months. Only let me hope, and I can wait."

"You have this to comfort you, at any rate," said Dudleigh, "that outside the gates you have a friend. And now I will not intrude any longer. I must go. But if you will allow me I will come back to-morrow.

Meanwhile I will try to think over what is best to be done."

"You will promise," said Edith, imploringly, "not to desert me?"

"Desert you? Never! On the honor of a gentleman!" cried Dudleigh; and as he bowed his head there came over his face a very singular smile, which Edith, however, did not see.

He then took his leave.

CHAPTER XX.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH

Edith slept but little that night. The prospect of escape agitated her whole being, and the new friend who had so unexpectedly appeared took up all her thoughts.

He was a little man most certainly, and Edith already caught herself thinking of him as "_Little Dudleigh_." He had nothing whatever of the hero about him. Mowbray, as far as appearances went, far surpa.s.sed her new acquaintance in that respect. Still Edith felt bound to overlook or to excuse his slight frame, and in the effort to do this she recalled all the little men of history. She thought of a saying which she had once heard, that "all great men are small men." This sentiment included under the head of little men Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Napoleon, with others of the same cla.s.s, for the list had evidently been made up by one who was himself a little man, and was anxious to enter a forcible protest against the scorn of his bigger brethren. On the present occasion the list of little heroes was so formidable that Edith was prepared to find in "Little Dudleigh" all she wished. Still, in spite of his generous offers, and his chivalrous proposal to put down his dead body for her to march over, she did not feel for him that admiration which such heroism deserved; and she even reproached herself for her lack of common grat.i.tude, for in her high spirits at the prospect of escape, she caught herself more than once smiling at the recollection of "Little Dudleigh's" little ways, his primness, and effeminacy.

At about ten o'clock on the following day "Little Dudleigh" came back.

"That beggar at the gate," said he, after the usual greetings, "looks very hard at me, but he doesn't pretend to hinder me from coming or going just yet, though what he may do in time remains to be seen."

"Oh," said Edith, "you must manage to get me out before Wiggins has a chance to prevent you from coming in."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I MUST USE THESE, THEN."]

"I hope so," said Dudleigh. "Of course, Miss Dalton, as you may suppose, I have been thinking of you ever since I left you, and planning a thousand schemes. But I have made up my mind to this, and you must make up yours to the same. I am sorry, but it can not be avoided. I mean _bloodshed_."

"Bloodshed!" said Edith, sadly.

"Of course it is terrible to a lady to be the cause of bloodshed," said Dudleigh, quietly, "and if there were any other way I would find it out, or you would know about it. But from what I have seen and heard, and from what I know of Wiggins, I see that there is nothing left but to force our way out, for the place is thoroughly guarded day and night."

"So it is," said Edith, mournfully.

"If I take you out, I must--Are we overheard?" he asked, looking cautiously around.

"I think not; at least not if you speak low."

"I must use these, then," said he, drawing a brace of pistols in a careless way from his coat pocket, and showing them to Edith.

Edith recoiled involuntarily. Bloodshed, and perhaps death, the scandal that would arise, arrest perhaps, or examination before magistrates--all these thoughts came before her. She was brave, but things like these could not be lightly faced. She was brave, but she could not decide just yet that any man's life should be taken for the sake of her liberty.

"I can not bear that," said she.

"You will get used to them," said Dudleigh, cheerfully. "They are easy to handle."

"Put them back."

"But what else is there to do?"

"I'm sure I don't know," said Edith, in a dejected tone.

"Well," said Dudleigh, after a pause, "I thought of this. It is natural.

I antic.i.p.ated some such objection as this on your part. I know very well what it is that you fear, and I don't know but that you are right.

Still, I have other plans, which may not appear so objectionable. But in the first place, let me know finally, do you positively and absolutely reject this?" and he tapped the pistols significantly.

"I can not yet consent to risk any life," said Edith.

"Very well; this may remain over until every thing else fails."

"But couldn't you use these pistols to terrify them? The sight might make them open the gates."