"He hasn't promised yet. O, I wish he
would promise!"
"Promise her, in Heaven's name!" said the stranger.
"Promise!" said Leslie, in a stern yet solemn voice, as he turned
and fixed his eyes upon the landlord.
"If I do promise, I'll keep it!" returned Jenks, in a threatening
tone, as he returned the gaze of Leslie.
"Then, for God's sake, _promise!_" exclaimed Leslie, in a
half-despairing voice. "_Promise, and I'm safe!_"
"Be it so! May I be cursed, if ever I sell you a drop of drinking at
this bar, while I am landlord of the 'Stag and Hounds'!" Jenks spoke
with with an angry emphasis.
"God be thanked!" murmured the poor drunkard, as he led his child
away. "God be thanked! There is hope for me yet."
Hardly had the mother of Lizzie missed her child, ere she entered,
leading her father by the hand.
"O, mother!" she exclaimed, with a joy-lit countenance, and in a
voice of exultation, "Mr. Jenks has promised."
"Promised what?" Hope sprung up in her heart, on wild and fluttering
wings, her face flushed, and then grew deadly pale. She sat panting
for a reply.
"That he would never sell me another glass of liquor," said her
husband.
A pair of thin, white hands were clasped quickly together, an ashen
face was turned upwards, tearless eyes looked their thankfulness to
heaven.
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