No,
no--nothing can save you."
"You say the truth," cried Birch. "It is now too late--I have destroyed
my only safeguard. But _he_ will do my memory justice at least."
"What safeguard?" asked the sergeant, with awakened curiosity.
"'Tis nothing," replied the peddler, recovering his natural manner, and
lowering his face to avoid the earnest looks of his companion.
"And who is he?"
"No one," added Harvey, anxious to say no more.
"Nothing and no one can avail but little now," said the sergeant, rising
to go. "Lay yourself on the blanket of Mrs. Flanagan, and get a little
sleep; I will call you betimes in the morning; and from the bottom of my
soul I wish I could be of some service to you, for I dislike greatly to
see a man hung up like a dog."
"Then _you_ might save me from this ignominious death," said Birch,
springing to his feet, and catching the dragoon by the arm. "And, oh!
what will I not give you in reward!"
"In what manner?" asked the sergeant, looking at him in surprise.
"See," said the peddler, producing several guineas from his person;
"these are nothing to what I will give you, if you will assist me
to escape."
"Were you the man whose picture is on the gold, I would not listen to
such a crime," said the trooper, throwing the money on the floor with
contempt.
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