“Tom,” said he, “there’s a warrant out for your arrest.”
“Mine!”
“Yes; yours, Tom. I expect the constable’s on his way from Eastcaster now. Anyway, there’s no time to lose. Here’s a horse ready for you; jump on her and leave the country!”
“Will.”
“Well; what is it?”
“Do you believe that I killed Isaac Naylor?”
Will did not answer, but stood looking fixedly on the ground.
“Never mind; I don’t ask you to answer me, Will. I’ll tell you, however, that I did not do it. I’ll stay and face the music.”
Then Tom turned and called his father and John. “Father—John—did you hear what Will said?”