Compassion without limit, courageous purpose impatient of inaction, troubled this young girl.
"You behaved like a lady," said Sandy,--"you never looked up. You needn't run now, I'm sure, when he thinks of taking a turn. All we've got to do is to mind our own business, Mr. Laval says. I guess we can. But I did want to let off those chains."
"What chains?" asked Elizabeth, as with a shudder she looked up at Sandy.
"His wrists, you know,--locked," he explained.
"Oh!" groaned the gentle soul, and she walked off, forgetful of the flowers, tools, Sandy, everything. But Sandy followed her; she heard him calling to her, and before the garden-gate she waited for him; he was following on a run.
"I can tell you what it's for," said he, for he had no idea of keeping the secret to himself, and he dared not trust it to any other friend.
"What is it?" she asked,--and she trembled when she asked, and while she waited for his answer.
"For lighting the Church. Would you think that? He did such damage, it wasn't safe for him to be at liberty. That's how it was. I think he must be a Lutheran;--you know they don't believe in the Holy Ghost! Of course,--poor fellow!--it's right he should be shut up for warring with the Church that came down through the holy Apostles, when you know all the rest only started up with Luther and Calvin. He ought to have knowed better."
"Who told you, Sandy?" asked Elizabeth, as if her next words might undertake to extenuate and justify.
"It came straight enough, I understand. But--remember--you don't know anything about it. His name is Manuel, though;--don't dare to mention it;--that's what Mr. Laval calls him. Are you going? I wouldn't have told you a word, but you took his trouble so to heart. You see, now, it's right he should be shut up. But let on that you know anything, all the worse for me,--I mean, him!"
"Yes," said Elizabeth, "you're safe, Sandy. Thank you for telling me."
Sandy walked off with a mind relieved, for he believed in Elizabeth, and had found the facts communicated too great a burden to bear alone.
She passed through the garden-gate most remote from the fort; it opened into a lonely road which ran inland from the coast, between the woods and the prison, and to the woods she went. The shadows were gloomy to-day, for she went among them lamenting the fate of the stranger;--the mystery surrounding him had increased, not lessened, with Sandy's explanation.