The Deemster

by Sir Hall Caine

"We're innocent, but we're in it, and if you stand to it we must stand to it, and what's the use of throwing your life away?"

Dan looked into their haggard faces without wavering. He had gone too far to go back now. But he was deeply moved.

"Men," he said, "I wish to God I could do what you ask, but I can not, and, besides, the Almighty will not let any harm come to you."

There was a pause, and then old Quilleash said with quiet gravity, "I'm for religion myself, and singing hymns at whiles, and maybe a bit of a spell at the ould Book, but when it comes to trusting for life, d——d if I don't look for summat substantial."

As little was their stubborn purpose to be disturbed by spiritual faith as Dan's resolution was to be shaken by bodily terrors. They gave him as long to decide as it took a man to tell a hundred. The counting was done by Teare amid dead silence of the others.

Then it was that, thinking rapidly, Dan saw the whole terrible issue. His mind went back to the visit of the Bishop to the castle, and to the secret preparations that had been made for his own escape. He remembered that the sumner had delivered up his keys to the Bishop, and that the Bishop had left the door of the cell open. In a quick glance at the facts he saw but too plainly that if he never returned to take his trial it would be the same to his father as if he had accepted the means of escape that had been offered him. The Bishop, guilty in purpose, but innocent in fact, would then be the slave of any scoundrel who could learn of his design. Though his father had abandoned his purpose, he would seem to have pursued it, and the people whom he had bribed to help him would but think that he had used other instruments. There could be only one explanation of his absence—that he escaped; only one means of escape—the Bishop; only one way of saving the Bishop from unmerited and life-long obloquy—returning to his trial; and only one condition of going back alive—promising to plead "Not guilty" to the charge of causing the death of Ewan.

It was an awful conflict of good passions with passions that were not bad. At one moment the sophistry took hold of him that, as his promise was being extorted by bodily threats, it could not be binding on his honor; that he might give the men the word they wanted, go back to save his father, and finally act at the trial as he knew to be best. But at the next moment in his mind's eye he saw himself in the prisoner's dock by the side of these five brave fellows, all standing for their lives, all calmly trusting in his promise, and he heard himself giving the plea that might send them to their deaths. Better any consequences than such treachery. Truth it must be at all costs; truth to them and to himself. And as for the Bishop, when did the Almighty ask for such poor help as the lie of a blood-stained criminal to save the honor of a man of God?

It was a terrible crisis of emotion, but it was brief. The counting ended, and Quilleash called for the answer.

"No, I can not do it—God forgive me, I wish I could," said Dan, in a burst of impatience.

It was said. The men made no reply to it. There was awful quiet among them. They began to cast lots. Five copper coins of equal size, one of them marked with a cross scratched with the point of a nail, they put into the bag. One after one they dipped a hand and drew out a coin, and every man kept his fist clenched till all had drawn. The lad was not for joining, but the men threatened him, and he yielded. Then all hands were opened together.