"To be sure I will," said Hester. And going to a drawer, she took out a penny bottle of ink, an old pen, and a sheet or two of very thin, poor writing paper. "Shall I write or will you?" she said, looking up at the girl, who stood still and upright in the middle of the room. "Set down, Bet, dear, and take the pen in your own fingers--ef the letter's for Will, he'd like to have the writing yours. Set down, and I'll help you to spell out the words." "No," said Bet; "I ain't a scholard, and my hand shakes. I'll say what's in my heart, and you'll write it for me, Hetty, dear." She moved over now to the fireplace, and leaned one elbow on the tiny mantel-shelf; her face was quiet, but Hester could not help remarking the absence of hope in her eyes. "Are you sure that Dent will appear in the witness box?" she asked. "Seems to me as if he'd scarce dare to; for he'll have to say how he come by the notes. You know, Bet, and so do I, that he's the real thief; and ef he appears to clear Will, seems to me he must confess his own share. Are you sure as he'll do it, Bet?" "He told father so," replied Bet. "He's deep, and he'll find a way. He said as he'd do it for a price--it were a heavy one--he wouldn't do it for nought else; he named his price, and he promised that for that he'd clear Will." "I don't see how he's to do it," repeated Hester, looking more and more dissatisfied. "Dent ain't the man to pop himself into the jail. And a price? You and Granger han't got any money. It's deceived you are, I fear me, Bet." "No," said Bet--"the price is _me_--there ain't no deceit, and his meaning's quite plain. When Dent saves Will, he's to have me. I'm to wed him--them's the terms--there ain't no use argufying, Hester; but it's all plain--Dent will clear Will, and keep out of prison hisself, for he's as clever as he's bad. And I'm to be his wife. Now you write the letter." "That I won't," said Hester, flinging down her pen. "Ef you think I'm going to break Will's heart, and yourn, too, you're fine and mistook. Dent is playing the fool on you, Bet Granger; and you're no true lass to give up Will on any terms." Hester spoke with great vehemence and passion. She was horrified at what she considered sacrilege. She could not understand Bet. Rising from her seat, she pushed her writing materials away, and stooped over the hearth. "There," she said, as she poked the little fire--"I'm glad as you has spoke out your mind. You hate Dent, and you'll marry him; and you'll give Will his liberty, but you'll break his heart. No, no--I won't write that letter."