"He's lots of friends, an' that's all the good it does; but the Lord ain't goin' to let a man like him be eaten up by moths, I don't believe, though how he's to be saved I don't see."
"Can't anything be done?" I asked, in despair.
"Not as it appears now; but be cheerf, Gilbert, be cheerf. It'll all come out right in the end, an' truth'll triumph, if what the Sunday-school teachers preach is true. To make sure, though, git your uncle into the idea of movin', an' I'll have him clear of the place an' out of the country in twenty-four hours"; saying which, Blott wrung my hand and hurried away, as if not daring to trust himself to speak further.
Save what I have related, the two days passed without my being able to find out anything new or of interest to Fox. Upon my going to the meeting-place, as we had agreed, however, he was not there, nor did he come. This I could not account for, unless, indeed, he was discouraged like the others, and seeing no hope for Uncle Job had avoided meeting me. This I thought was the case, but waiting until midnight, I at last returned home, worn and discouraged, without one comforting thought regarding the trial to come off the following day.
CHAPTER XL
JOB THROCKMORTON'S TRIAL: THE TRAGEDY
The next morning I arose at break of day and hastened to the jail, to be with Uncle Job to comfort him in some measure, if that were possible, before going to the place of trial. Afterward, seated beside him in the crowded courtroom, I looked about, to see Miss Betty a few feet away, her eyes red and swollen, as if she had grieved much and slept but little. All the fun was clean gone out of the poor thing, and in its place nothing but sorrow and deep anxiety. Her face, too, always so rosy and smiling, was now pale and drawn, giving her the look of being much older than she was. Meeting my gaze, she smiled upon me, as if in gratitude for my being there. Constance sat beside her, and when I caught her eye her face lighted, and this I knew to comfort me and give me courage to abide the end, whatever it might be. Except these two and Setti, who sat next to Constance, no friendly look met mine. Surely, I thought, some of our friends might have come, or was our cause so desperate that every one stayed away to hide their grief at the end they so clearly foresaw?
Uncle Job bore himself like the fine gentleman he was, neither courting nor shunning the eye of any one when he entered the room. Bowing politely to those who recognized him, he passed others who avoided acquaintanceship with the grace of unconsciousness that only well-bred people possess. This happening led me to believe then and this belief has only been strengthened by time, that no good man or woman ever can refuse to recognize another whom they by chance know, however humble or obscure, unless such person has been convicted of some crime that shames our morals. Only the smaller parasites and hangers-on of social life, I am assured, can commit such an offense against good manners. Uncle Job, however, did not appear cast down by what he saw, though craving kindly sympathy and being a man who would have freely offered it under like circumstances.
Moth sat near by, looking pinched and meaner than ever, I thought, though his appearance was always inferior to that of other men. The cunning look he gave me from out his deep-set eyes when I glanced his way I pretended not to see, so greatly did I loathe the man. Looking beyond to the jury, I could not make them out, unless, indeed, they had the air of expecting a treat, for which pay was to be forthcoming, rather than having a duty to perform. Being men tanned in the sun and simple of habit, however, I could not tell. Mr. Promb, Uncle Job's lawyer, sat beside Moth, and suffered greatly, I thought, in comparison with that saffron-faced and eager-eyed man. Otherwise he was wholesome to look upon, and without doubt much the better man of the two. If Uncle Job could but have had Mr. Lincoln to plead his cause, I mourned, as we sat waiting, there would then be no need to borrow trouble. His innocence would be made clear as noonday to every one by the honesty and God-like persuasiveness of his advocate. Alas! neither he nor any other fit person for occasion so great could be had, and Uncle Job must, perforce, suffer whatever fate befell him.
Mr. Seymour had thought it greatly in Uncle Job's favor that the trial was to be before Judge Douglas, a rising man, already much spoken of in the state because of the brilliancy of his mind and his vast comprehension of the world and its affairs. This truly great man was, at the time of which I speak, just beginning the wonderful career that for many years made him a power in the land and known of men far and near, all finally to culminate in his strivings after the presidency with Mr. Lincoln and his death at an early day thereafter. Of his greatness, however, soon to be proven in the Senate and elsewhere, only the more discerning had then, any inkling.[*]