“He’ll wade out,” said my father. And Jack was fetched from the scourhole, and came in with his arms bare and sweating from the steam, and smelling abominably of lant.
The paragraph was read to him.
“Phew! so George is nabbed. Well he’ll noan split aw hope.”
“‘It appears that the man and another have been the chief in all the disgraceful transactions that have occurred in this part of the country, especially at Rawfolds’ read Mr. Webster again. ‘The man and another . . . . especially at Rawfolds?’ You see the betrayal has not been confined to the murder of that unfortunate but headstrong man—‘The man and another.’ Who can the other be?”
I looked at Soldier and Soldier looked at me.
“That’ll be me,” said Jack.
“Nay, me,” I said
And the silence of dismay fell upon us all.
“Nay,” said the good parson at length, and never did dying absolution from priestly lips bring more comfort to a penitent—“Nay, that can hardly be. This paper was published in Leeds yesterday morning. The information must have been in the possession of Mr. Radcliffe for some days. If either of you had been implicated you would have been under arrest ere this.”
I breathed again.