He would gladly have doubled the amount; but five dollars had been the sum agreed upon for that first week's work, and he feared that he would wound her pride by offering her a gratuity.

So he had told her that she would be worth more to him the next week, and that he would continue to increase her wages in proportion as she acquired speed and proficiency in her work.

Thus she had started forth, that dreary Sat.u.r.day night, with a comparatively light heart, to redeem her watch, before going home to tell her mother her good news.

But, alas! how disastrously the day had closed!

"Come, miss," impatiently remarked the officer, as she sat with bowed head, her face covered with her hands, "get on your things! I've no time to be fooling away, and must run you into camp before it gets any later."

"Oh, what do you mean?" cried Edith, starting wildly to her feet.

"Where are you going to take me?"

"To the station-house, of course, where you'll stay until Monday, when you'll be taken to court for your examination," was the gruff reply.

"Oh, no! I can never spend two nights in such a place!" moaned the nearly frantic girl, with a shiver of horror. "I have done no intentional wrong," she continued, lifting an appealing look to the man's face. "That money was given to me for some work that I have been doing this week, and if any one is answerable for it being counterfeit, it should be the person who paid it to me."

"Who paid you the money?" the officer demanded.

"A lawyer for whom I have been copying--Mr. Royal Bryant; his office is at No. ---- Broadway."

"Then you'll have to appeal to him. But of course it's too late now to find him at his office. Where does he live?"

"I do not know," sighed Edith, dejectedly. "I have only been with him one week, and did not once hear him mention his residence."

"That's a pity, miss," returned the officer, in a gentler tone, for he began to be moved by her beauty and distress. The condition of the invalid, who had fallen back weak and faint in her chair when he entered, also appealed to him.

"Unless you can prove your story true, and make up the grocer's loss to him, I shall be obliged to lock you up to await your examination."

Edith's face lighted hopefully.

"Do you mean that if I could pay Mr. Pincher I need not be arrested?"

she eagerly inquired.

"Yes; the man only wants his money."

"Then he shall have it," Edith joyfully exclaimed. "I will give him back the change he gave me, then I will go to Mr. Bryant the first thing Monday morning and tell him about the gold-piece, when I am sure he will make it all right, and I can pay Mr. Pincher for what I bought to-night."

"No, you don't, miss," here interposed the grocer himself. "I've had that game played on me too many times already. You'll just fork over five dollars to me this very night or off you go to the lock-up. I'm not going to run any risk of your skipping out of sight between now and Monday, and leaving me in the lurch."

"But I have no money, save the change you gave me," said Edith, wearily. "And do you think I would wish to run away when my mother is too sick to be moved?" she added, indignantly. "I could not take her with me, and I would not leave her. Oh, pray do not force me to go to that dreadful place this fearful night! I promise that I will stay quietly here and that you shall have every penny of your money on Monday morning."

"She certainly will keep her word, gentlemen," Mrs. Allandale here interposed, in a tremulous voice. "Do not force her to leave me, for I am very ill and need her."

"I'm going to have my five dollars now, or to jail she will go," was the gruff response of the obdurate grocer.

"Oh, I cannot go to jail!" wailed the persecuted girl.

Mrs. Allandale, almost unnerved by the sight of her grief, pleaded again with pallid face and quivering lips for her. But the man was relentless. He resolutely turned his back upon the two delicate women and walked from the room, saying as he went:

"Do your duty, Mr. Officer, and I'll be on hand Monday morning, in court, to tell 'em how I've been swindled."

With this he vanished, leaving the policeman no alternative but to enforce the law.

"Oh, mamma! mamma! how can I live and suffer such shame?" cried the despairing girl, as she sank upon her knees in front of the sick woman, and shuddered from head to foot in view of the fate before her.

Mrs. Allandale was so overcome that she could not utter one word of comfort. She was only able to lift one wasted hand and lay it upon the golden head with a touch of infinite tenderness; then, with a gasp, she fainted dead away.

"Oh, you have killed her!" Edith cried, in an agonized tone. "What shall I do? How can I leave her? I will not. Oh! will no one come to help me in this dreadful emergency?"

"Sure, Miss Allandale, ye know that Kate O'Brien is always willin' to lend ye a hand when you're in trouble--bless yer bonny heart!" here interposed a loud but kindly voice, and the next instant the good-natured face of a buxom Irishwoman was thrust inside the door, which the grocer had left ajar when he went out. "What is the matter here?" she concluded, glancing from the officer to the senseless woman in her chair, and over whom Edith was hanging, chafing her cold hands, while bitter tears rolled over her face.

A few words sufficed to explain the situation, and then the indignation of the warm-hearted daughter of Erin blazed forth more forcibly than elegantly, and she berated the absent grocer and present officer in no gentle terms.

Kate O'Brien would gladly have advanced the five dollars to the grocer, but, unfortunately, she herself was at that moment almost dest.i.tute of cash.

"Come, Miss Allandale," said the officer, somewhat impatiently, "I can't wait any longer."

"Oh, mamma! how can I leave you like this?" moaned the girl, with a despairing glance at the inanimate figure which, as yet, had given no signs to returning life.

"She has only fainted, mavourneen," said Kate O'Brien, in a tender tone, for she at last realized that it would be worse than useless to contend against the majesty of the law. "She'll soon come to hersel', and ye may safely trust her wid me--I'll not lave her till ye come back again."

And with this a.s.surance, Edith was forced to be content, for she saw, by the officer's resolute face, that she could hope for no reprieve.

So, with one last agonizing look, she pressed a kiss upon the pallid brow of her loved one; then, again donning her hat and shawl, she told the policeman that she was ready, and went forth once more into the darkness and the pitiless storm, feeling, almost, as if G.o.d himself had forsaken her, and wondering if she should ever see her dear mother alive again.

CHAPTER III.

THE YOUNG LAWYER EXPERIENCES TWO EXTRAORDINARY SURPRISES.

The next morning, in the matron's room of the Thirtieth street station-house, a visitor came to see Edith Allandale. The visitor was Kate O'Brien, who, after announcing the condition of the prisoner's mother, declared her willingness to aid Edith in any way in her power.

Edith intrusted a letter to her for Mr. Royal Bryant, and early Monday morning Kate was at the lawyer's office, and placed the missive in his hands.

The young man instantly recognized the handwriting of his fair copyist, and flushed to his brow at sight of it.

"Ah! she is ill and has sent me word that she cannot come to the office to-day!" he said to himself.

"Sit down, madam," he said to his visitor, and he eagerly tore open the letter and read the following:

"MR. BRYANT:--Dear Sir:--I am sorry to have to tell you that the five-dollar gold-piece which you gave me on Sat.u.r.day evening was a counterfeit coin. I pa.s.sed it at a grocery, near which I reside, in payment for necessaries which I purchased, and, half an hour later, was arrested for the crime of pa.s.sing spurious money. I could not appeal to you at the time, for I did not know your address; but now I beg that you will come to my aid to-morrow morning, when I shall have to appear in court to answer the charge, for I do not know of any one else upon whom to call in my present extremity. Oh, pray come at once, for my mother is very ill and needs me.

"Respectfully yours,

"EDITH M. ALLANDALE."