Mr. Wittingham winced, but replied nothing; and the case was regularly taken up. Some nine or ten others followed; and certainly every thing was done by the two magistrates who had been found sitting, and their exceedingly excellent clerk to tire out Sir John Slingsby and Dr. Miles, by protracting the investigation as long as possible. The poor persons, however, who had been compelled by the power of paper or parchment to appear in the awful presence of justice, had reason to thank their stars and did so most devoutly, that the number of magistrates was increased to four. A number of cases were dismissed as frivolous; very lenient penalties were inflicted in other instances; and, if the real truth were told, the person who suffered the severest punishment under the proceedings of that day was no other than Mr. Wittingham, upon whom Sir John Slingsby continued to pour for two long hours all the stores of sarcasm which had accumulated in his bosom during the last fortnight. At length the magistrates' paper was over, and worthy Mr. Wittingham showed an inclination to depart; but Sir John Slingsby stopped him, exclaiming,
"Stay a bit, Wittingham, stay a bit, my good Sir. The case with which we have now to deal you have already nibbled at; so you must have your share of it."
"I am ill, Sir John," said Mr. Wittingham, "I am not fit."
"Not fit I have long known you to be," rejoined Sir John, and then added in a murmur, "for any thing but a tall stool at the back end of a slopseller's shop; but as to being ill, Wittingham, you don't pretend to be ill. Why your complexion is as ruddy as if you had washed your face with guineas out of your strong box. However it is this business of Captain Moreton and his falsification of the register at Moreton church that we have to deal with."
"I have already disposed of that," said Mr. Wittingham, sharply, "and I am not disposed to go into it again."
But it was now Mr. Wharton's turn to attack Mr. Wittingham.
"You have disposed of it, Sir," he exclaimed, with all the blood in his body rushing up into his face; "the falsification of the registers of Moreton church! why, I never heard of this!"
"There was no reason that you should," answered Mr. Wittingham, tartly; "you are not a magistrate, I think, Mr. Wharton; and besides, you might in some degree, be considered as a party interested. Besides, you were absent, and so I sent for Bacon and dealt with the matter myself."
"Fried his bacon and deviled the attorney," said Sir John Slingsby, with a roar, "you see he is such an active creature, Wharton, he must be doing whether right or wrong. I declare he cuts out so much matter for the bench in reversing all his sage decrees, that the rest of the magistrates can scarcely manage it."
"I did not come here to be insulted, Sir John Slingsby," said Mr. Wittingham, the jaundiced yellow of his face gradually becoming of an olive green, "I did not come here to be insulted, and will not stay for such a purpose; I expect to be treated like a gentleman, Sir."