“Yes; I have knowed her ever since she was a little gal. Not as ever I met her face to face in my life, but I know her as every poor man and poor child and poor brute in the whole country knows her: as the kindest, gentlest, tenderest-hearted lady in the whole world—she who has been known to take the fur cloak off her own back, and lay it over the form of a sick beggar, while she went home in the cold to send her warm blankets. Yes, and known to have done scores of deeds as good and self-sacrificing as that. She do the thing they accuse her of! Why, sir, she no more did it than I, or you, or your own sweet wife did it! And Satan burn me! when I hear of any man accusing her of it, if I don’t feel just like knocking his dull brains out, and taking the consequences—that I do!” swore the farmer.
“I will trust him,” said Lyon Berners to himself.
—“And to think that men who call themselves law officers, not to say Christians, should hunt that lovely lady through the country as if she was some wild beast or highway robber! I wish one of them hunters was to come my way. I’m blowed to flinders if I wouldn’t set my whole pack of dogs on ’em till they would be torn to pieces. I’d give ’em hunting! But excuse me, Mr.—Mr.—What’s-your-name; I’ve gone away from the pint, which I always do fly off at a tangent and lose my bearings whenever I hear that lady accused. Now, sir, what had you to tell me to my advantage?” inquired the farmer, drawing a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his heated face.
“I will tell him all,” said Lyon Berners to himself; and then he spoke up:
“First, good friend, let me assure you that you have not wandered a hair’s breadth from the point at issue between us.”
“Oh yes, I have; for I have been raving about Mrs. Berners; but I couldn’t help it.”
“Mrs. Berners is the lady who is with me,” said Mr. Berners.
Farmer Nye jumped three feet from the ground and came down again like a man that was shot, and then stood with open mouth and eyes staring at the speaker.
“I am her husband, and the men who are guarding us are the officers who have her in custody.”
“What? Say that again!” uttered the farmer, panting for breath.