—Ay, and something beyond all these. But as for you, you have never been any thing!"
"Ay, ay! and so you are Bell Calvert? Well, I thought so—I thought so," said Mrs. Logan; and helping herself to a seat, she came and sat down close by the prisoner's knee. "So you are indeed Bell Calvert, so called once. Well, of all the world you are the woman whom I have longed and travailed the most to see. But you were invisible; a being to be heard of, not seen."
"There have been days, madam," returned she, "when I was to be seen, and when there were few to be seen like me. But since that time there have indeed been days on which I was not to be seen. My crimes have been great, but my sufferings have been greater. So great, that neither you nor the world can ever either know or conceive them. I hope they will be taken into account by the Most High. Mine have been crimes of utter desperation. But whom am I speaking to? You had better leave me to myself, mistress."
"Leave you to yourself? That I will be loth to do, till you tell me where you were that night my young master was murdered?"
