Offended by the violence of Threshum, which resulted, however, from his wish to save his friend and her lover, Alice left the room suddenly, and had scarcely got to the door, when she heard the writer calling after her. At this moment she was seized by a sheriff-officer, and conducted before the sheriff to be examined. She told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The fatal words of the secret visiter—"I joined Mike in the robbery, and wish him to get off"—were formally recorded, and the deposition closed. Threshum, finding the necessity of exerting his best energies to overcome the weight of this overpowering evidence, called at the office of the fiscal, and demanded, on behalf of his client, to see the contents of the portmanteau. This was conceded to him; and the man of the law, having examined carefully the papers in presence of the fiscal, and taken notes of them, departed, to turn his information to the best account he could for his client. He discovered that the papers belonged to Mr William Anson, merchant in Bristol, the guardian of the runaway bride, Miss Julia Anson.
This done, Lewis got hold of Alice before she left Dumfries, and took her with him to the prisoner, to see if the efforts of Mike would have any effect upon making her depart from her intention of adhering to the truth on the day of trial—the examination she had already undergone being merely a step in the preparation of the evidence. When they entered, they found Mike enjoying himself over some brandy, which the friendship of the jailer had procured for him. Lewis told him, with a grave face, of the extraordinary circumstances attending the recovery of the portmanteau, and, in particular, the words uttered by the individual who handed it in at the window. Mike remained unmoved.
"And do ye believe the words o' the ruffian wha thus hounds me?" said he to Alice.
"I cannot disbelieve what accords so well with everything else I have seen," replied she. "Alas! would that I could disbelieve them!"
"But ye'll keep them at least to yersel, Alice?" said Mike.
"If I could keep my heart to mysel, Mike, I would," replied she. "But God does not allow that, and I must speak the truth. What would you have me to do?"
"To say naething," replied he.
"Fule, man!" rejoined Lewis; "say naething! That wad hang ye mair certainly than what she has already said to the fiscal (to whom she has tauld everything), and intends to repeat at the trial, unless we can, in some way, prevent it. Say naething, man! You and she are tryin, like the competin millspinners o' Dryden's mill, which o' ye is best at twistin hemp. If she said naething, wha wad be presumed to be the depositor o' the portmanteau in the hands o' Alice Parker, the weel-kenned lover o' Mike Maxwell? Wha but Mike Maxwell himsel? Could it come frae a mair likely hand than that on whase finger the owner's diamond ring was, or micht hae been? Ye're baith fules. The lassie should swear, and she maun swear (unless, indeed, she wants to hang ye, which seems to be the case), that the portmanteau was handed in at the window by a man wha said ye were innocent, and had sent back the papers to try to save ye."
"Will ye say that, Alice?" said Mike.
"I cannot tell a lie, Mike," replied Alice. "I will speak the truth; and I would do that if Alice Parker's neck, in place of Mike Maxwell's, were in danger of the rope."