'He'll be brought up before the magistrates to-morrow morning for final examination, along with the others, you know, before he's sent to York Castle to take his trial at the spring assizes.'
'To York Castle, sir?'
Mr. Donkin nodded, as if words were too precious to waste.
'And when will he go?' asked poor Philip, in dismay.
'To-morrow: most probably as soon as the examination is over. The evidence is clear as to his being present, aiding and abetting,—indicted on the 4th section of 1 George I., statute 1, chapter 5. I'm afraid it's a bad look-out. Is he a friend of yours, Mr. Hepburn?'
'Only an uncle, sir,' said Philip, his heart getting full; more from Mr. Donkin's manner than from his words. 'But what can they do to him, sir?'
'Do?' Mr. Donkin half smiled at the ignorance displayed. 'Why, hang him, to be sure; if the judge is in a hanging mood. He's been either a principal in the offence, or a principal in the second degree, and, as such, liable to the full punishment. I drew up the warrant myself this morning, though I left the exact name to be filled up by my clerk.'
'Oh, sir! can you do nothing for me?' asked Philip, with sharp beseeching in his voice. He had never imagined that it was a capital offence; and the thought of his aunt's and Sylvia's ignorance of the possible fate awaiting him whom they so much loved, was like a stab to his heart.
'No, my good fellow. I'm sorry; but, you see, it's my duty to do all I can to bring criminals to justice.'
'My uncle thought he was doing such a fine deed.'