"If the lass had no'but been able to say, 'Yon man is Drayton, and yon as you've got in prison is Ritson, and I saw the bad wark done,' that would have settled it."
"Na doot," said Matthew, his head in the bowl.
"They warn't for hearing me. When the parson took me up to Lunnon mair nor a twelvemonth agone, they sent us baith home with our tails atween our legs. 'Bring us the young woman,' they said; 'your evidence will stand aside hers, but not alone. Bring the young woman to 'dentify,' they says. 'She's gone blind,' we says. 'We can't help that,' they says. And that's what they call justice up in Lunnon."
"Ey, ey," said Matthew.
"But then thoo has to mak' 'lowances for them gentry folk—they've never been larn't no better, thoo sees."
Gubblum's porridge was bubbling, and the thivel worked vigorously. Matthew had picked up the child from the hearth. The little fellow was tugging at his white beard.
"It were bad luck that me and Mercy didn't stay a day or so langer in Hendon yon time. She had her eyes then. But the lass was badly, and" (dropping his voice) "that way, thoo knows, and I warn't to prophesy what was to happen to poor Paul Ritson. So I brought her straight away home."
"So thoo did, Gubblum," said Matthew, stroking the child's head.
"It's that Hugh as is at the bottom of it all, I reckon. I'm not afraid to say it, if he is my master. I allus liked Paul Ritson—the reet one, thoo knows, not this taistrel that calls hisself Paul Ritson—but I cared so laal for Hugh that I could have taken him and wrowk't the fire with him."
The porridge was ready, and Mercy set a wooden bowl on the table. "I's fullen thy bicker, my lass," said Gubblum. "I's only a laal man, but I's got a girt appetite, thoo sees." Then turning to Matthew he continued: "But he's like to pay for it. He brought his raggabash here, and now the rascal has the upper hand—that's plain to see."