"Mr. Darrel! Mr. Darrel!" he implored with the tears streaming down his face, "help me, for God's sake! Oh, my poor mother. In heaven's name I am innocent! Don't let him drag me to prison."
"What can I do?" said Darrel moved by this abasement. "I am not above the law. If you are guilty you must pay for your wickedness."
"But I am innocent."
"Then prove your innocence," cried Torry with a sneer. "I am always open to conviction."
"I can't speak, I dare not speak!" moaned Vass, hiding his miserable face in his hands.
"Then keep silence and hang."
The poor wretch shuddered convulsively at the ominous word, and wept loudly. He cried like a woman, and lay on the floor moaning and groaning as in pain. Even Darrel was disgusted at this unmanly conduct, and advised him sharply to leave off whimpering. Torry went further.
"Get up, you milk-sop, or I'll kick you," he cried. "This is not the way to meet your troubles. You say you can explain; do so, and save your neck, if you can."
Finding all his howling did no good, Vass rose to his feet and dried his eyes. Driven like a rat into a corner, he turned to shew fight.
"Give me a glass of water," said he, "and I'll tell you the truth."