Logan,"
said she. "It is not that I value life, or because I fear death,
that I have sent for you so expressly. But the manner of the death
that awaits me has something peculiarly revolting in it to a female
mind. Good God! when I think of being hung up, a spectacle to a
gazing, gaping multitude, with numbers of which I have had
intimacies and connections, that would render the moment of parting
so hideous, that, believe me, it rends to flinders a soul born for
another sphere than that in which it has moved, had not the vile
selfishness of a lordly fiend ruined all my prospects and all my
hopes. Hear me then; for I do not ask your pity: I only ask of you
to look to yourself, and behave with womanly prudence, if you deny
this day that these goods are yours, there is no other evidence
whatever against my life, and it is safe for the present. For, as
for the word of the wretch who has betrayed me, it is of no avail;
he has prevaricated so notoriously to save himself. If you deny
them, you shall have them all again to the value of a mite, and
more to the bargain. If you swear to the identity of them, the
process will, one way and another, cost you the half of what they
are worth."
"And what security have I for that?" said Mrs. Logan.
"You have none but my word," said the other proudly, "and that
never yet was violated. If you cannot take that, I know the worst
you can do. But I had forgot—I have a poor helpless child without,
waiting and starving about the prison door. Surely it was of her
that I wished to speak. This shameful death of mine will leave her
in a deplorable state."
"The girl seems to have candour and strong affections," said
Mrs. Logan. "I grievously mistake if such a child would not be a
thousand times better without such a guardian and director."
"Then will you be so kind as to come to the Grass Market and see
me put down?" said the prisoner. "I thought a woman would estimate
a woman's and a mother's feelings, when such a dreadful throw was
at stake, at least in part. But you are callous, and have never
known any feelings but those of subordination to your old unnatural
master. Alas, I have no cause of offence! I have wronged you; and
justice must take its course. Will you forgive me before we
part?"
Mrs. Logan hesitated, for her mind ran on something else. On
which the other subjoined: "No, you will not forgive me, I see. But
you will pray to God to forgive me? I know you will do that."
Mrs. Logan heard not this jeer, but, looking at the prisoner
with an absent and stupid stare, she said: "Did you know my late
master?"
"Ay, that I did, and never for any good," said she. "I knew the
old and the young spark both, and was by when the latter was
slain."
This careless sentence affected Mrs. Logan in a most peculiar
manner. A shower of tears burst from her eyes ere it was done, and,
when it was, she appeared like one bereaved of her mind. She first
turned one way and then another, as if looking for something she
had dropped. She seemed to think she had lost her eyes, instead of
her tears, and at length, as by instinct, she tottered close up to
the prisoner's face, and, looking wistfully and joyfully in it,
said, with breathless earnestness: "Pray, mistress, what is your
name?"
"My name is Arabella Calvert," said the other. "Miss, mistress,
or widow, as you choose, for I have been all the three, and that
not once nor twice only. Ay, and something beyond all these.
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