, and I promise not to betray you.'

'Oh ay, a likely tale,' said the man with a brutal laugh. 'We're all
for ourselves in this world, and no mistake; so we shall just put you
where you can tell no tales, old girl.'

'Stop; hear what she has to say: you shall; you must,' cried a young
woman who started up from a table at the further end of the cellar,
at which she had been seated, with her face buried in her hands,
during the foregoing colloquy. 'I tell you, Jack,' she continued,
advancing into the midst of the group, and laying her hand on the
man's arm, 'you shan't touch that woman: you won't; I know you won't.
Bad enough you are--we all are, God knows--but there's no blood upon
our hands yet; and,' added she, lowering her voice, 'blood will
speak, you know--_remember_.' The man's countenance fell as the girl
uttered the last words; he relaxed his hold of the knife; and Anna,
taking advantage of his indecision, and the relenting expression she
thought she read in the dark faces round her, related her simple
story, dwelling particularly upon the danger the corners would incur
were she missing, and their security in case she was allowed to
proceed on her journey, after seeing her friend the clergyman. Taking
courage from the attention of her hearers, she even ventured to
remonstrate with them upon their dangerous mode of life, and
entreated them to abandon it, and seek their subsistence honestly.

There was a pause of some minutes after Anna ceased speaking, during
which the coiners exchanged with each other looks of mingled
admiration and astonishment. At length one of them, who appeared to
take the lead, addressing his companions, said, 'The woman has spoken
well, and there is reason in what she says. It is true enough that
murder will out; and though she is a stranger, she was known to come
here. Her disappearance might excite suspicion, suspicion would lead
to inquiries, inquiries to search, and then all would be up with us;
besides, a few weeks will see us clear of this place, if we have
luck, and I think we may trust her so long.' Then turning to Anna, he
continued, 'You have a spirit of your own, and I like you the better,
and would trust you the sooner for it; none but fools rely on the
word of a coward, but one who dare speak the honest truth, without
fear or favour, when in peril of life, is not likely to break faith,
I think; so you shall go free, on condition that you take a solemn
oath not to reveal to a