"The question is, what do you wish me to do?"
"To let Jim off, sir," was the answer; and the girl's eyes were eager to tearfulness as she fixed them on the man, who frowned, perhaps because he felt the appeal in them almost irresistible. "It was a dark night, and maybe ye could not be quite certain. It was the others who tempted him. He will go no more poaching if he once wins clear, and if the fiscal sends him to prison the bairns will be hungry often or the winter's through. It's for their sakes I'm asking; and the neighbors say there will be no conviction if ye cannot swear to Jim."
Perhaps it was Dane's duty to sternly rebuke the pleader, but she appeared half-fed and desperately anxious; and the face of her tiny sister, with its look of childish confidence, rose up before his fancy. He had once, and with little compunction, cut down with a shovel a frenzied Italian laborer who led a mutiny, but now, though he set his lips firmly for a moment, his eyes were pitiful.
"I am afraid what you suggest would not be right," he said presently. "Does your father not help you at all?"
The girl's "No," expressed a good deal, and the despair in her voice completed the man's discomfiture.
"I'm sorry; I had no right to ask," he said. "I am sure, at least, that it was not your brother who broke my head, because—because he was not in a position to attack anybody just then—and, for the sake of the little ones, if there is any doubt at all—and I dare say there will be, he shall have full benefit. But I cannot set him at liberty to continue poaching; and the neighboring land-owners will probably see that he gets no more work at the quarries; so he must take a letter from me to a contractor who will no doubt find him employment."
Here, to the consternation of Dane, who did not know that his underfed and overworked companion had done a courageous and, in the eyes of her neighbors, a very suspicious thing, the girl broke out into half-choked sobbing.
"You really must not cry," he pleaded awkwardly. "It is distressing to me; and it is not my fault that your brother's friends cut my head open. However, as I am the unfortunate cause of your distress, if the little ones have suffered already it would be my duty to—to see they didn't—you understand me?"
The girl, though still tearful, drew herself up with some show of pride.
"I'm no asking ye for money. The relief was just overmuch for me; but, and it's a last favor, ye will no tell Miss Chatterton. Her good word means work and bread to me."