“I don’t doubt his taking the money. And I don’t approve of the course he took to get it, either. But forgive me if I say I think you drove him to it. It’s the old story over again,—the rich man with large flocks and herds taking the poor man’s one little lamb. Much as I condemn him for breaking into your house, I’d rather at this moment be in his place than in yours, Squire Peternot!”
“Wife! wife!” expostulated the deacon, mildly; while Peternot stood silently champing the bit of mortified pride and resentment.
“I hope to be pardoned here and hereafter, if I speak anything unjustly or in anger,” Mrs. Chatford went on; “but I must say what is in my heart. The boy has done wrong; but consider, he is but a boy. Think what he was when he was brought here, what bad influences had been about him all his life, and then acknowledge that he has turned out better than could ever have been expected of him. He has been steady, industrious, truthful, well behaved,—as good as most boys who have had the best of training. And now to cast him off for one offence,” appealing to her husband; “you will regret it as long as you live, if you do! And for you,” turning again to the squire, “at your years, with your wealth, and your knowledge of our blessed Saviour’s teachings, to drive this poor, ignorant child to transgress the law in the maintenance of his rights, in the first place, and then to execute the vengeance of the law upon him without mercy,—as I said before, I’d rather be in his place, in the eyes of Heaven, than in yours!”
Jack, who had stood sullen, despairing, full of hatred and a sense of wrong, a minute before, burst into a wild fit of sobbing and weeping at the sound of these gracious words. The deacon was touched; and even Phin looked conscience-smitten,—white about the mouth, and scared and excited about the eyes,—as he thought of his share in Jack’s disgrace.
“Mrs. Chatford,” said Mrs. Pipkin, wiping her tears with her apron, “you’ve spoken my sentiment, and you’ve spoken it better than I could, because you’re a better woman!”
“So she has, by hokey!” added the sincere Mr. Pipkin.
“I wish you could be prevailed upon to let the matter rest at present, squire,” said the deacon. “The boy has certainly done well, since he has been with us, till this unfortunate affair came up.”
“You haven’t known him!” said Peternot, striking his heavy cane upon the floor. “What’s bred in the bone will stay long in the flesh. You can’t wash a black sheep white in a day. He can put on a smooth outside, but he’s corrupt at heart as he ever was. If you could have been present with him in the woods yesterday! I never heard such profanity from the lips of mortal man!”
“Jack!” said the deacon, “do you swear?”
“I swore at him; he was robbing me; I couldn’t help it, he made me so mad!” Jack acknowledged.