"Won't I? No, Philip Searle, I won't. I'll stay by you till you kill me;
yes, I will. You want to go after that poor girl and torment her; but
she's dying and soon you won't be able to hurt her any more."

"Was it she, Moll, was it Miranda that came here with you? Was she going
to Richmond?"

"She was going to heaven, Philip Searle, out of the reach of such as you
and me. I'm good enough for you, Philip, bad as I am; and I'm your wife,
besides."

"You told her that?"

"Told her? Ha! ha! Told her? do you think I'm going to make that a
secret? No, no. We're a bad couple, sure enough; but I'm not going to
deny you, for all that. Look you, young man," she continued, addressing
Harold, who at that moment entered the room, "that is Philip Searle, and
Philip Searle is my husband--my husband, curse his black heart! and if
he dares deny it, I'll have him in the State prison, for I can do it."

"She's perfectly insane," said Philip; but Harold looked thoughtful and
perplexed, and scanned his fellow-officer's countenance with a searching
glance.

"At all events," he said, "she must not remain here. My good woman, we
are ready now, and you must come with us. We have a horse for you, and
will make you comfortable. Are you ready?"

"No," she replied, sullenly, "I won't go. I'll stay with my husband."