"Stop!" said Mary. "Fair play's a jewel. There are three of you at the
table. Will you not let the old man have one chance to win back his
gold?"
"The Devil!" cried Mathews, dropping the box, and staggering to his seat,
a universal tremor perceptible in his huge limbs. "Where--where is he?"
"At your elbow," said Mary. "Don't you see him frown and shake his head
at you? How fast the blood pours down from the wound in his head! It is
staining all your clothes. Get up, William, and give the poor old man
the chair."
"Don't mind her, Mathews, she is raving," said Godfrey. "Do you see
anything?"
"I thought I saw a long, bony, mutilated hand, flitting to and fro, over
the gold. Ah! there it is again," said Mathews, starting from his chair.
"You may keep the money, for may I be hanged if I will touch it. Leave
this accursed place and yon croaking fiend. Let us join the boys down
stairs, and drink and sing, and drive away care."
And so the murderers departed, leaving the poor girl alone with the
gold, but they took good care to lock the door after them. When they
were gone, Mary threw an old cloak about her, which formed part of the
covering to the bed, and stepped upon the floor.
"They are gone," she said; "I have acted my part well. But, alas, this
is no place for me. I am called upon by God himself to save the
innocent, and the mission shall be performed, even at the expense of my
worthless life.
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