"It is a sign, sister," she said, "that something will happen to us." Mrs. Deborah laughed a little bitterly. I thought afterwards that the laugh was like that of Sarai, because a thing did happen to her, as will presently be seen. "Nothing," she said, "will happen to you and to me any more, Esther, except more pain and more starvation." "Patience, Deborah," sighed Mrs. Esther. "We who have borne our captivity for nine-and-twenty years----" "And seven months," said her sister. "Can surely bear it a little longer." "We were girls when we came here," said Mrs. Deborah; "girls who might have had lovers and become mothers of brave sons--not that you, Kitty, should let your thoughts run on such matters. But there are no honest lovers for honest girls in the Rules of the Fleet." "Lovers!" echoed Mrs. Esther, with a heavy sigh. "Mothers! with sons! Ah, no! not for us." "We are old women now, sister. Well, everything is short that hath an end. Let us take comfort. To earthly prison is a certain end appointed." "We came to the gaol, sister," continued Mrs. Esther, "two girls, weeping, hand-in-hand. Poor girls! poor girls! My heart bleeds to think of them, so young and so innocent." "We shall go out of it," said her sister, "with tears of joy. They shall write upon our tombstones, 'These sisters thank God for death.'" "What fault, we asked--ah! Deborah, how often we asked it!--what fault had we committed? For what sin or crime of ours did this ruin fall upon us?" "I ask it still," said Deborah the impatient, "I ask it every day. How can they call this a land of justice, when two innocent women can be locked up for life?" "My sister, we may not kick against the pricks. If laws are unjust they must be changed, not disobeyed." Mrs. Deborah replied by a gesture of impatience. "We were blessed with parents," said Mrs. Esther, half talking to herself, half to me, "whose worth and piety were as eminent as their lofty positions in the City. Our respected father was Lord Mayor in the year 1716, when, with our esteemed mother, who was by birth a Balchin, and the granddaughter of Sir Rowland Balchin, also once Lord Mayor, he had the honour of entertaining his Highness Prince George of Denmark. We were present at that royal banquet in the gallery. Our father was also, of course, an alderman----" "Of Portsoken Ward," said Mrs. Deborah. "And Worshipful Master of the Company of Armour Scourers." "And churchwarden of St. Dionis Backchurch," said Mrs. Deborah. "Which he beautified, adding a gallery at his own expense." "And where, in 1718, a tablet was placed in the wall to his memory," added Mrs. Deborah. "And one to the memory of Esther, his wife," continued the elder sister, "who died in the year 1719, so that we, being still minors, unfortunately became wards of a merchant, an old and trusted friend of our father." "A costly friend he proved to us," said Mrs. Deborah.