Which was all Tod got for interfering. We had to go out: and in a minute or two Reed came out also, handcuffed as before; not in charge of old Jones, but of the county police. He had been sentenced to a month’s imprisonment. Major Parrifer had wanted to make it three months; he said something about six; but the other two thought they saw some slightly extenuating circumstances in the case. A solicitor who was intimate with the Sterlings, and knew Reed very well, had been present towards the end.
“Could you not have spoken in my defence, sir?” asked Reed, as he passed this gentleman in coming out.
“I would had I been able. But you see, my man, when the law gets broken——”
“The devil take the law,” said Reed, savagely. “What I want is justice.”
“And the administrators of it are determined to uphold it, what can be said?” went on the solicitor equably, as if there had been no interruption.
“You would make out that I broke the law, just doing what I did; and I swear it was no more? That I can be legally punished for it?”
“Don’t, Reed; it’s of no use. The Major and his witnesses swore you were at work. And it appears that you were.”
“I asked them to take a fine—if I must be punished. I might have found friends to advance it for me.”
“Just so. And for that reason of course they did not take it,” said the candid lawyer.
“What is my wife to do while I am in prison? And the children? I may come out to find them starved. A month’s long enough to starve them in such weather as this.”