“That he has gone poaching, and has been taken by the keepers.”
“But did he ever do so before?”
“Not by night, if he did by day. I can’t tell; he always has had a hankering that way.”
“Well, they do whisper the same of you, neighbour. Why do you keep a gun?”
“I’ve carried a gun all my life,” replied Rushbrook, “and I don’t choose to be without one: but that’s not to the purpose; the question is, what would you advise us to do?”
“Why, you see, friend Rushbrook,” replied the schoolmaster, “advice in this question becomes rather difficult. If Joey has been poaching, as you imagine, and has been taken up, as you suspect, why, then, you will soon hear of it: you, of course, have had no hand in it?”
“Hand in it—hand in what?” replied Rushbrook. “Do you think we trust a child like him with a gun?”
“I should think not; and therefore it is evident that he has acted without the concurrence of his parents. That will acquit you; but still, it will not help Joey; neither do I think you will be able to recover the gun, which I anticipate will become a deodand to the lord of the manor.”
“But, the child—what will become of him?” exclaimed Jane.
“What will become of him?—why, as he is of tender years, they will not transport him—at least, I should think not; they may imprison him for a few months, and order him to be privately whipped. I do not see what you can do but remain quiet. I should recommend you not to say one syllable about it until you hear more.”