“All well!—yes; but my poor child—200 pounds offered for his apprehension! If they were to take him!”
“I have no fear of that; and if they did, they could not hurt him. It is true that they have given their verdict; but still they have no positive proof.”
“But they have hanged people upon less proof before now, Rushbrook.”
“Jane,” replied Rushbrook, “our boy shall never be hanged—I promise you that; so make your mind easy.”
“Then you must confess, to save him; and I shall lose you.”
A step at the door interrupted their colloquy. Rushbrook opened it, and Mr Furness, the schoolmaster, made his appearance.
“Well, my good friends, I am very sorry the verdict has been such as it is, but it cannot be helped; the evidence was too strong, and it was a sad thing for me to be obliged to give mine.”
“You!” exclaimed Rushbrook; “why, did they call you up?”
“Yes, and put me on my oath. An oath, to a moral man, is a very serious responsibility; the nature of an oath is awful; and when you consider my position in this place, as the inculcator of morals and piety to the younger branches of the community, you must not be surprised at my telling the truth.”
“And what had you to tell?” inquired Rushbrook, with surprise.