The magistrate smiled.
The farmer was so energetic and impressive that it would have been difficult for any one to have refrained from smiling.
“You are right enough, I dare say,” observed the magistrate, “but assertions are one thing and evidence is another. If this young man is guilty we shall know how to deal with him.”
“Oh, mek no doubt o’ that, not a morsel o’ doubt. It aint loikely that he will be able to throw dust in the eyes of an experienced and far-seeing gentleman loike yourself. I will be at the court to-morrow morning, and just tell what I know about him.”
“I don’t know that there will be any occasion for that, Ashbrook,” observed the magistrate.
“Oh, but it ’ud be just as well, your worship. I know summat about the young vagabond, and I be willing enough to do my best to send him to quod.”
“Just so; you are actuated by the best motives without doubt, but at the same time we have to consider many things before rashly entering into matters which are after all but pendents on the main issue.”
“I do not quite understand you,” said the farmer.
“Possibly not; but we will consider this over. Take a glass of wine, Mr. Ashbrook; we do not often meet,” said the magistrate, passing the decanter to his agricultural companion.
“Certainly, sir. Here’s your very good health, and I may say I am happy and proud to see you,” cried Ashbrook, raising the glass to his lips.