At twelve o'clock that day she stood by Will's side in his dreary little cell. She was allowed to see him for a few minutes without the presence of a third person. Will had lost somewhat of his bronze; his face was thin and pale; and Hester, going up to him, and clasping his hands, was about to burst forth into a distressful wail at his changed appearance, when he stopped her. "We ha' no time, Hetty. I know just what your heart's full of, but it's all about Bet we must talk. The time's all too short, and I'm bound hand-and-foot here, and can do nought. See, Hetty-I had a letter from my lass." "I know, Will; but it ain't worth your while to fret for her. I know she has gived you up for that Dent fellow; and ef she, what thought to call you mate, can wed with one like him-why, let her, I say. I'm sorry as you're pained, Will; but don't let's waste the minutes talking about one like Bet Granger." "Hush," said Will. "You say false words, Hetty-I'm 'shamed of you." Will's blue eyes flashed. He pulled Bet's letter out of the bosom of his prison shirt, and kissed it passionately. "She gived me up-poor Bet did," he said. "And that's all you thinked on her! She thought to save me, and she took what would be as death to one like her. I'm 'shamed of you, Hetty. I thought-I did think-that when a gel did an out-and-out grand thing you'd be the first to see it." Hester colored. Her eyes filled with tears. "It seemed to me," she said, "as no one what loved you could take up with one like Dent. I may be wrong--I was angered at Bet and I spoke angry. Never mind. It's you as she has wronged--ef you can forgive her, I'll bear no malice."