“Yes, oi supposes if you promises to produce him, that will do,” the constable said. “Oi doan't suppose as nought will come o't; these schoolmaister chaps does thrash t' boys cruel, and oi ain't surprised as t' little chaps roises ag'in it soometoimes. T'others all seem moighty glad o' it: oi heard 'em shouting and, cheering in t' yard as if they was all mad.”
Captain Sankey shook his head. “I'm afraid the magistrates won't see it in that light, Harper; discipline is discipline. However, we must hope for the best.”
The story that there had been a rebellion among the boys at Hathorn's, that the schoolmaster had his shoulder broken, and that Captain Sankey's son was to go before the magistrates, spread rapidly through Marsden, and the courthouse was crowded at the sitting of the magistrates on Thursday.
There were two magistrates on the bench. Mr. Thompson the local banker, and Squire Simmonds of Lathorpe Hall, three miles from the town. Several minor cases were first disposed of, and then Ned's name was called. Captain Sankey had been accommodated with a seat near the magistrates, with both of whom he had some personal acquaintance. Ned was sitting by the side of the lawyer whom his father had retained to defend him; he now moved quietly into the dock, while Mr. Hathorn, with his arm in a sling, took his place in the witness box.
Ned had recovered now from his fit of passion, and looked amused rather than concerned as the schoolmaster gave his evidence as to the fray in the schoolroom.
“I have a few questions to ask you, Mr. Hathorn,” Mr. Wakefield, Ned's lawyer, said. “Had you any reason for expecting any outbreak of this kind among your boys?”
“None whatever,” Mr. Hathorn said.
“You use the cane pretty freely, I believe, sir.”
“I use it when it is necessary,” Mr. Hathorn replied.
“Ah, and how often do you consider it necessary?”