"You made a great mistake," said she, coldly and sternly, "when you
drove Miss Plympton away. If you hope to keep me imprisoned here, you
will only destroy yourself. I have a friend who knows you, and who will
know before evening that I am here under restraint. She will never rest
until she effects my deliverance. Have you counted on that?"

Wiggins listened attentively, as usual, to every word. The effort seemed
to give him pain, and the suggestion of her friend was undoubtedly most
unpleasant.

"No, I have not," said he. He spoke as though to himself. The candor of
this confession stimulated Edith to dwell to a greater extent upon this
subject.

"She was not willing for me to come in," said she. "She wished me not to
enter without a lawyer or the sheriff. If she finds that I am detained,
she will enter here in that way herself. She will deliver me in spite of
you. If she does not see me to-day, she will at once use every effort to
come to me. Your porters and your spies will be of no use against the
officers of the law."

At this Wiggins looked at the floor, and was evidently in a state of
perplexity. He stood in silence for some time, and Edith waited
impatiently for his answer, so as to learn what effect these last hints
had produced. At length Wiggins looked up. He spoke slowly and
mournfully.

"I am very sorry," said he. "I hope it will not come to that. I'm afraid
that I shall have to take you elsewhere."