C. B. then handed the note to Mr. Stewart, who quietly tore it in pieces and handed the little pile to the attendant saying—
“Give him that. And call Simpson in.” The man disappeared and a minute later a big pleasant-looking man came in and walked up to Mr. Stewart, who said—
“Simpson, Mr. Adams here has just received an offer of a thousand dollars to refuse identification, two thousand if the road agents are acquitted, and sudden death to all of us if they’re not. I’ve torn the note up and given it back to the man, but that doesn’t matter, of course. Just attend to it, won’t ye.”
And Simpson bowed and retired, while the party resumed their luncheon. But Miss Stewart looked grave and said little, though she looked at C. B. occasionally with keenest concern. Otherwise there was no apparent change of demeanour in any of the men. And after coffee, while the two Americans smoked, C. B. sat in calmest mood and meditated over the events of the morning.
CHAPTER XIX C. B.’s Awakening
At 2 p.m., a hack being in waiting, the two men and Miss Stewart were driven to the Court through the swarming streets, C. B. remarking once or twice that he never thought there were so many people in the world. He also inquired earnestly what they were all hurrying so for, and Mr. Stewart told him that all the people he saw were divided into two classes, the one class rushing after money to add to their already overfat store in order to get more power, the other, and by far the larger class, were being hunted by the gaunt spectre of want. They had to rush or starve, and when one of them fell by the wayside there was little hope of him ever rising again, his fellows would trample him to death.
C. B. heaved a great sigh and thought sadly of the lot of these poor people as compared with the happiness of his own folk, and a great longing came over him for that peaceful isle. The next moment he repented of the feeling as being cowardly. He thought if these poor folk had to bear the burden of what he took to be intolerant misery, he could surely endure to look upon them doing so. And then they pulled up at the Court.
Like a man in a dream C. B. was conducted to a place where he and his friends were allowed to seat themselves, and there he gazed around and listened uncomprehendingly, his mind in a whirl of wonder. At last their case was called, and the prisoners, each guarded by a warder, stood up for identification. There was some little trouble about the oath, which Miss Stewart and her father took unhesitatingly, but which C. B., after having it explained to him two or three times, resolutely refused to utter. His attitude was reported to the judge, who said sharply—