"What's that you're up to?" shouted the lawyer, rushing to the window and
peering over the other's shoulder into the open space below, from which a
man was just disappearing.
"Am I a prisoner of the police that you should ask me that?" returned
Hazen, haughtily.
"No, but you should be," retorted Harper. "I don't like your ways, Hazen.
I don't like what you and your sister have said about the Cause and the
conscienceless obedience exacted from its members. I don't like any of
it; least of all this passing over of poor Bela's name to one whose duty
it will possibly be to make trouble for her."
Hazen smiled and moved from the window. No one there had ever seen such a
smile before, and the oppression which it brought heightened Georgian's
fear to terror.
"Let be!" she cried, lifting her hands towards Harper in inconceivable
anxiety. "A quarrel with him will not help you and it may greatly injure
_me_. Alfred, what am I to expect? Something dreadful, I can see. Your
face is not the face of one who forgives, or who sees in a gift of money
an adequate recompense for a cowardly withdrawal."
"You read rightly," said he. "Your fortune will be accepted by the Chief,
but he will never forget the cowardice. What faith can he put in one who
prefers her own happiness to the general good? You must prepare for
punishment.
Pages:
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244