Do
not let me perish. God will not be angry with you for protecting me."
Henrietta was now even less able to speak than before. But though she
could not express herself in words, she placed one hand on the girl's
head and raised the other tremulous hand to heaven, as one who takes a
solemn oath before God. Then she tore herself away from Anicza, who had
stooped to kiss the hem of her garment, and hastened back to her own
room. On reaching the threshold of the house she looked back and saw
that the girl had sunk down in the dust and was gratefully kissing the
very traces of the footsteps of the departing lady.
On reaching her room Henrietta paced up and down it for a long time,
wringing her hands as she went and moaning loudly: "My God! my God!"
Then she flung herself down on her couch, writhing like one in mortal
agony.
But soon she strengthened her heart and sat down at the writing-table.
What had become of that beautiful handwriting of hers which had
resembled copper plate? Scarcely legible letters now issued from her
trembling hand, dumb witnesses of the terror of her heart, and yet write
she must for it was her petition to her husband. Ah! that she should be
forced to write to him.
Her letter was as follows:
"DREAD SIR: Tremulously and submissively I approach you. In the
name of an unhappy creature I appeal to your compassion.
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