“O, don’t, doctor! What is the matter?” exclaimed the affrighted girl, rising in bed. I had rushed, almost frantically across the room and back. “Forgive me,” I said, “I—I forgot myself. Pardon me.”
“O, sir, I thought you were mad.”
“I was, dear girl. It is past. Now to your case.” And I proceeded to unfold to her unsophisticated mind the true state of affairs. Here was a pure, respectable, though poor young girl, under age, who had been betrayed, locked into an office, and seduced by a son of the squire, and deserted, threatened—left to bear the burden and disgrace alone. She dared not divulge the name of her destroyer, because of the position of his family in the community. I dared. But to bring her mind up above her fears, to compel the young man to make restitution, as far as lay in his power, was a severe task. It was my duty to do this; sweeter then than duty, it was my revenge! By implicating the real villain, I released several other young men from suspicion, particularly one young man with red hair.
The girl was taken away from the sight of dear sister’s sinister looks, and the influence and threats of the seducer, and secret offers of bribery of the deacon, his father.
The law took its course. No eye could see the hand that worked the machinery. The time was counted almost to a day, as the result proved. The young man was arrested, and gave bonds. It became the theme of general conversation. I was interviewed. I was dumb—deaf—blind! Threats and bribes proved equally ineffectual to induce me to give an opinion, or a pledge not to appear in the coming trial at the next term of the Superior Court. To marry the poor, unfortunate girl was beneath the dignity of the seducer and family. They would pay their last farthing first, or the young man would sooner go to prison for the crime. His two sisters carried their heads higher than ever. The two sons threatened my life. But I kept on the even tenor of my way. The girl became a mother.
“Next Tuesday court sits,” whispered everybody, and nothing in town was discussed but the probabilities of the pending lawsuit.
The lawsuit was nothing, the fine was nothing, which the justice might impose; even imprisonment was nothing in comparison to acknowledgment of an illegitimate child by the deacon’s family, notwithstanding the child was not red-haired, but much resembled its reputed father, the deacon’s son.
There was no trial. The squire paid a sum of money to the idiotic old father of the beautiful young mother, and agreed, orally, to support the child, and the suit was withdrawn. But this virtually acknowledged the child, and the girl returned to her father’s roof for shelter, and a place wherein to weep alone over her so-called fatherless child, and hide her shame (?) from the uncharitable world.
The town became too cramped for the squire and his beautiful family. He sold out, but not before he had lost his rule there, and was hanged in effigy as being “too Secesh.”
The seducer married a frail beauty, who mourns a drunken, brutish husband.