"Not more than twenty pounds," returned Mrs. Robson, "when they took
him out of this room, a week ago, and hurried him away without
letting me know a word of the matter. I believe to this hour I should
not have known where he was, if that cruel Mr. Jackson had not come
to demand all that Mr. Constantine left in my care. But I would not
let him have it. I told him if my lodger had filled my house with
bags of gold, _he_ should not touch a shilling; and then he
abused me, and told me Mr. Constantine was in Newgate."
"In Newgate!"
"Yes, madam. I immediately ran there, and found him more able to
comfort me than I was able to speak to him."
"Then be at rest, my good woman," returned Miss Beaufort, rising from
her chair; "when you next hear of Mr. Constantine, he shall be at
liberty. He has friends who will not sleep till he is out of prison."
"May Heaven bless you and them, dear lady!" cried Mrs. Robson,
weeping with joy; "for they will relieve the most generous heart
alive. But I must tell you," added she, with recollecting energy,
"that the costs of the business will raise it to some pounds more.
For that wicked Jackson, getting frightened to stand alone in what he
had done, went and persuaded poor weak-minded Mr. Watson, the
undertaker, to put in a detainer against Mr. Constantine for the
remainder of his bill. So I fear it will be full thirty pounds before
his kind friends can release him.
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