Chapter VIII


Something like joy came into Madelon's face. "Then we will save him,
you and I!" she cried out. "We will save him together! He shall not
be hung! He shall be set free! They shall let him out of jail to-day,
and put me there instead. We will save him! He would not own that I
was guilty and he innocent; Lot would not own it, nor my brother
Richard, but now--we will save him--now!"

"How?" asked Dorothy, feebly.

"He will own it to you. Burr will own it to you if you go and plead
with him. He can't help owning it to you. And then you shall go to
Lot, and when you ask him for your sake, that you may marry Burr, if
he knows Burr has told you, and does not care about me, he will
speak. He will be sure to speak for you. Come!"

Dorothy raised herself on one elbow and stared at Madelon, her yellow
hair falling about her fair startled face. "Where?" said she.

"With me to New Salem."

"To New Salem?"

"Yes, to New Salem--to see Burr."

"But I am ill, and the doctor has bid me stay in bed. I have been ill
ever since the ball with a headache and fever."