Landless reddened. "No."
"Nor as a martyr to principle, a victim of that most iniquitous and tyrannical Act of Uniformity?"
"No."
"Nor as one of those whom they call Oliverians?"
"No."
The mender of nets tapped softly against the table with his thin, white fingers. Landless said coldly:—
"These are idle questions. The man who brought me here hath told you that I am a convict."
The other looked at him keenly. "I have heard convicts talk before this. Why do you not assert your innocence?"
"Who would believe me if I did?"
There was a silence. Landless, raising his eyes, met those of the mender of nets, large, luminous, gravely tender, and reading him like a book.