She was sitting almost as he had left her, with a dull, hopeless look.
“I am sorry to say Charley has had an accident,” he said.
She started up and clasped her hands.
“He is not in prison?” she panted in a husky voice.
“No; he is at my house. Come and see him. I don’t think he is in any danger, but his leg is broken.”
A gleam of joy crossed Sara’s countenance. She did not mind the broken leg, for he was safe from her terror. She put on her bonnet, tied the strings with trembling hands, and went with Stephen.
“You see God wants to keep him out of prison too,” he said, as they walked along the street.
But to Sara this hardly conveyed an idea. She walked by his side in silence.
“Charley! Charley!” she cried, when she saw him white on the bed, rolling his head from side to side. Charley ordered her away with words awful to hear, but which from him