When morning came her strength was nearly gone and she was lifted half fainting into the carriage which took her to the jail through the streets full of people hurrying to the Court House.
“Oh, see them, going to look at Paul,” she said to the judge, who was scarcely less affected than herself.
Tom, who drove them, scowled defiantly at the crowd, a few of whom were nearly knocked down by the spirited horses he did not try to check.
“Careful, Tom, careful. You’ll run over some of them,” the judge said to him.
“Ought to be run over,” was Tom’s reply, as he went dashing along, until the jail was reached.
There was not much time to wait, for the hour was near and Paul must be on hand. Tom had brought him a fresh suit of clothes the day before and he had put them on before his mother came, and except for his face and stooping figure looked a fashionably dressed young man when he stood up to meet her. She was so crushed and helpless and leaned so heavily on him that he felt at once the necessity of bracing himself if he would not have her fainting in his arms.
“Don’t, mother, don’t. It isn’t so very hard; there’ll be some way out of it, and it makes me worse to see you so bad,” he said to her, and with a great effort the little mother nerved herself to calmness.
Max Allen, the constable, was there by virtue of his office, shaking so he could hardly speak.
“I don’t want to go with you, but it’s the law which must be vin-di-cat-ed,” he said to Paul, who answered cheerfully, “All right, Max, I understand, and as long as I am not handcuffed I shan’t mind.”
“Handcuffed,” Max repeated. “I’d like to see ’em make me do that. No, sir! You are going to court like a gentleman in your father’s carriage. I wish to gracious I could walk, as I or’to, but I can’t. You are to go on the back seat with Mrs. Ralston, I in the front with the judge.”