CHAPTER XXIII
BEFORE JUDGE GARTY.
Sellick drove down the main street of the village, past the blacksmith-shop, the meeting-house, and the tavern, and turned up to a hitching-post near the canal. Just beyond was the high bridge, beneath which a line-boat was passing. A wild impulse seized Jack,—to run for his freedom, and return to his old life among the rude boatmen; for anything seemed to him better than going to jail. But Sellick said quietly, “I set a good deal by you, sonny. I want to keep you close by my side, for a few hours anyway. Don’t think of parting company with me; I couldn’t possibly bear you out of my sight.”
“If you were in my place, wouldn’t you want to part company?” said Jack.
“Naterally. And if you was in mine, you’d feel as I do. Now I take it you’re a sensible boy; and you know you are only a boy; while I have twice the strength, and can run twice as fast as you can. I don’t want to be obliged to tie ye; so I hope you’ll be quiet, while we are about town together. Set in the wagon now, while I hitch the hoss.”
So Jack remained in the wagon, and carefully watched the situation, determined to miss no opportunity of escape that might possibly occur. The wagon was standing before a grocery, on the corner of the street and the canal. On the other side of the canal was another grocery, of the lowest description, where he had more than once seen his former master, Jack Berrick, fill his whiskey jug or stand and drink at the bar. Near by were some old canal stables, about the doors of which three or four drivers were currying their horses, swearing and joking. He could hear their rough language to their horses and each other, and he thought, “O, I can’t go back and be one of them! But I’ll get away if I can.”
Judge Garty’s office was in the second story of the building before which Sellick hitched his horse. “Good arrangement,” remarked the jovial constable. “Boat hands and town loafers git drunk and break the peace in the grocery down stairs; take ’em to be fined or committed, before the judge up stairs. A very good business plan.”
“I should think,” said Jack, “’t would be hard to get a drunken man up that narrow flight; ’t would be more convenient if the judge had his office in one corner of the grocery.”
“A very good notion; I’ll suggest it to him,” said Sellick. “Come now, sonny! Re’ly, you must excuse me for calling you sonny; it comes so handy.”
The “narrow flight” to which Jack alluded was a staircase built up to the second story on the outside of the building. Up this the lame Peternot and his nephew went first; then came Jack and the constable, who stood on the upper landing, while the squire, in a narrow entry beyond, shook and pounded a door which appeared to be either locked or bolted.