"I've always believed that no jury that wasn't prejudiced would convict him on the evidence."
"You refer to Ralph Penlogan, of course?"
"The young man who's in prison on the charge of shooting Squire Hamblyn. Do you think he's anything like me?"
"You certainly are not unlike him in the general outline of your face. But, of course, anyone who knows young Penlogan——"
"Would never mistake him for me," the other interrupted.
"Well, I should say not, certainly."
"And yet bigger mistakes have been made. But I'd better tell you the whole story. I don't know what'll become of mother and the young ones, but I can't bear it any longer, and that's a fact. When I heard that that poor woman had been took off to the workhouse, I said to myself, 'Jim Brewer, you're a coward.' And that's the reason I'm here——"
"Yes?" said the vicar again, and waited for his visitor to proceed.
"It was I who shot the squire!"
The vicar started, but did not speak.