They listened to her grave gentle remonstrances in silence, half ashamed of their conduct so long as her eye was upon them, never daring in her presence to attempt the style of argument freely indulged in alone. There was not one of those wild rough men who would have laid a finger on this slight gentle girl, not though she was clad in gold and jewels, or would have spoken a rough word or used an oath in her presence. She and her mother had been and still were an embodiment to them of something transcendently pure and holy: it was the one elevating and sanctifying element in their lives; and many a man or woman, when the hand of death seemed about to clutch them, had sent in haste to know whether one of the ladies from the castle would come, feeling that in such a presence as that even the king of terrors would be robbed of half his power to hurt.
The day drew at last to its close, and Bride stationed herself at a window to watch for the return of her father. She saw him at last riding slowly up the ascent, with the servants behind him; and giving him time to alight and reach the hall, she met him there with an eager question on her lips.
“Oh, papa, what have you to tell me?”
“He is not committed for trial,” answered the Duke, as he moved slowly across to his study, and sat down wearily in his own chair. “I could not save him altogether, and perhaps it will be well for him to taste prison discipline after what he has been doing these past weeks.”
“Prison! Oh, is Saul in prison?”
“He has been sent to jail for six months. It was the least sentence that could well be passed upon him. There were two on the bench almost resolved to make a criminal case of it; but as you say, my love, my word goes a long way yet, and Mr. Tremodart and Mr. St. Aubyn and another clergyman were on the side of mercy. Your story was told, and it was corroborated by Captain O’Shaughnessy, and Saul’s previous good character and steadiness up to the time he had been led away by demagogues” (and a little spasm crossed the Duke’s face) “was all in his favour. It was the first time he had been had up—a first offence in the eyes of the law, though there were stories of months of conduct the reverse of satisfactory to the authorities. Still he had dispersed the crowd last night—no one could dispute that; and he was not proved to have been present at the firing of the mills. The evidence on that point was too confused and contradictory to go for anything. He denied himself having been there, and we all believed he spoke the truth, for he seemed almost reluctant to admit that he had not been in the forefront of the riot. He had been attracted to the spot by the sight of the flames, and had consented to head a march upon my yard. How that ended you know. There was another ringleader who had headed the arson mob, a cobbler, a well-known and most dangerous man. He was committed for trial; there is no chance for him. His life will pay the forfeit of his crime; but Saul Tresithny has escaped with six months’ imprisonment. Let us hope that he will have time and leisure in prison to meditate on the error of his ways and come out a better and a wiser man.”
CHAPTER XII
AUTUMN DAYS
