The boy staggered with weakness, and his sister threw an arm around him.
"Ye air to come to Mammy," she urged. "Mammy loves ye, Ezy dear."
"Wait," whispered the boy. "Ben Letts air to be arrested."
"What?"
The cry was sharp—the words hurt.
"Ben Letts air to be tooked to jail. It were him what killed the gamekeeper. It weren't Orn Skinner."
"Who were a-sayin' it were Ben?" demanded Myra, her mouth hard and lined.
"I says it," replied Ezy. "I seed him when he done it, and I comed to tell ye, and to see Mammy and Satisfied."
"Then come in, and go to bed, for ye be sick."