“I should as soon think of accusing Sarah of such dark offences, as of accusing this young lady!” exclaimed John to his friend Michael Millington, while the two were taking their breakfast next day. “It is preposterous—wicked—monstrous, to suppose that a young, educated female, would, or could, commit such crimes! Why, Mike, she understands French and Italian, and Spanish; and I think it quite likely that she can also read German, if, indeed, she cannot speak it!”
“How do you know this?—Has she been making a display of her knowledge?”
“Not in the least—it all came out as naturally as possible. She asked for some of her own books to read, and when they were brought to her, I found that she had selected works in all four of these languages. I was quite ashamed of my own ignorance, I can assure you; which amounts to no more than a smattering of French, in the face of her Spanish, Italian and German!”
“Poh! I shouldn’t have minded it, in the least,” Michael very coolly replied, his mouth being half-full of beefsteak. “The girls lead us in such things, of course. No man dreams of keeping up with a young lady who has got into the living languages. Miss Wilmeter might teach us both, and laugh at our ignorance, in the bargain.”
“Sarah! Ay, she is a good enough girl, in her way—but no more to be compared——”
Jack Wilmeter stopped short, for Millington dropped his knife with not a little clatter, on his plate, and was gazing at his friend in a sort of fierce astonishment.
“You don’t dream of comparing your sister to this unknown and suspected stranger!” at length Michael got out, speaking very much like one whose head has been held under water until his breath was nearly exhausted. “You ought to recollect, John, that virtue should never be brought unnecessarily in contact with vice.”
“Mike, and do you, too, believe in the guilt of Mary Monson?”
“I believe that she is committed under a verdict given by an inquest, and think it best to suspend my opinion as to the main fact, in waiting for further evidence. Remember, Jack, how often your uncle has told us that, after all, good witnesses were the gist of the law. Let us wait and see what a trial may bring forth.”
Young Wilmeter covered his face with his hands, bowed his head to the table, and ate not another morsel that morning. His good sense admonished him of the prudence of the advice just given; while feelings, impetuous, and excited almost to fierceness, impelled him to go forth and war on all who denied the innocence of the accused. To own the truth, John Wilmeter was fast becoming entangled in the meshes of love.