“Well, sir, I fancy you will find it difficult to impose upon me.”
“I have no desire to do so, Mr. Kensett. On the contrary, I wish to give you valuable information.”
“These are but idle words,” cried the magistrate, “a mere sound.”
“Permit me to relate to you a little story. I am sure it will not only surprise, but will interest you much. With your kind permission I will take a seat. Am I constrained to wear these handcuffs? They are by no means agreeable.”
“Let me hear what you have to say. As to the handcuffs that is a question which rests with the officer who has you in charge,” returned the magistrate.
“They are needless appendages, but we will not discuss the advisability of submitting me to this indignity—so let it pass. So if you are agreeable I will at once proceed with my narrative.”
“The incident which I am about to relate to you occurred seven-and-twenty years ago, come next September. On the night of the eleventh of that month a woman, with a baby in her arms, proceeded through the bye-road leading to Saltwich. She was in the depths of trouble, so I have been given to understand, and bore in her arms a newly-born infant.”
Mr. Sutherland paused, and placed his hand on his forehead as if to collect his thoughts.
The magistrate seemed to be almost stupefied with astonishment, but forbore from making any observation.
The prisoner proceeded—