“Imagination,” said the gentleman, soothing her. “No imagination,” replied the girl in a hoarse voice. “I’ll swear I saw ‘coffin’ written in every page of the book in large black letters,—ay, and they carried one close to me in the streets to-night.” “There is nothing unusual in that,” said the gentleman. “They have passed me often.” “_Real ones_,” rejoined the girl. “This was not.” There was something so uncommon in her manner that the flesh of the concealed listener crept as he heard the girl utter these words, and the blood chilled within him. He had never experienced a greater relief than hearing the sweet voice of the young lady as she begged her to be calm, and not allow herself to become the prey of such fearful fancies. “Speak to her kindly,” said the young lady to her companion. “Poor creature! She seems to need it.” “Your haughty religious people would have held their heads up to see me as I am to-night, and preached of flames and vengeance,” cried the girl. “Oh, dear lady, why ar’n’t those who claim to be God’s own folks as gentle and as kind to us poor wretches as you, who, having youth and beauty and all that they have lost, might be a little proud instead of so much humbler!” “Ah!” said the gentleman, “a Turk turns his face, after washing it well, to the East when he says his prayers; these good people, after giving their faces such a rub with the World as takes the smiles off, turn with no less regularity to the darkest side of Heaven. Between the Mussulman and the Pharisee, commend me to the first.” These words appeared to be addressed to the young lady, and were perhaps uttered with the view of affording Nancy time to recover herself. The gentleman shortly afterwards addressed himself to her. “You were not here last Sunday night,” he said. “I couldn’t come,” replied Nancy; “I was kept by force.” “By whom?” “Bill—Him that I told the young lady of before.” “You were not suspected of holding any communication with anybody on the subject which has brought us here to-night, I hope?” asked the old gentleman anxiously. “No,” replied the girl, shaking her head. “It’s not very easy for me to leave him unless he knows why; I couldn’t have seen the lady when I did, but that I gave him a drink of laudanum before I came away.” “Did he awake before you returned?” inquired the gentleman. “No; and neither he nor any of them suspect me.” “Good,” said the gentleman. “Now listen to me.” “I am ready,” replied the girl, as he paused for a moment. “This young lady,” the gentleman began, “has communicated to me and some other friends who can be safely trusted, what you told her nearly a fortnight since. I confess to you that I had doubts at first whether you were to be implicitly relied upon, but now I firmly believe you are.” “I am,” said the girl earnestly.