“An’ what will become o’ the poor orphans?” said Isabel.
She had scarcely spoken, when Sir George Beaumont advanced, and, taking one of the children in each hand, he motioned the people to return towards the grave.
“The puir bairns are provided for now,” whispered one to another, as they followed to witness the completion of the mournful ceremony. It was hastily finished in silence, and Sir George having said a few words to his steward, and committed the orphans to his care, set out on his way to the Hermitage, the assembled multitude all standing uncovered as he passed, to mark their respect for his goodness and humanity.
As might have been expected, the late unhappy occurrences greatly affected Lady Beaumont’s health, and Sir George determined to quit the Hermitage for a time; and directions were accordingly given to prepare for their immediate removal. While this was doing, the friend who had been with Elie Anderson in the prison happened to call at the Hermitage, and the servants crowded about her, eager to learn what had induced Elie to commit such crimes. When she had repeated what Elie had said, a young woman, one of the servants, exclaimed, “I know who’s been the cause of this; for if Bet,”——and she suddenly checked herself.
“That must mean Betsy Pringle,” said Robert, who was her sweetheart, and indeed engaged to her; “so you will please let us hear what you have to say against her, or own that you’re a slanderer.”
“I have no wish to make mischief,” said the servant; “and as what I said came out without much thought, I would rather say no more; but I’ll not be called a slanderer neither.”
“Then say what you have to say,” cried Robert; “it’s the only way to settle the matter.”
“Well, then,” said she, “since I must do it, I shall. Soon after I came here, I was one day walking with the bairns and Betsy Pringle, when we met a woman rather oddly dressed, and who had something queer in her manner, and, when she had left us, I asked Betsy who it was. ‘Why,’ said Betsy, ‘I don’t know a great deal about her, as she comes from another part of the country; but if what a friend of mine told me lately is true, this Elie Anderson, as they call her, should have been hanged.’
“‘Hanged!’ cried Miss Charlotte; ‘and why should she be hanged, Betsy?’
“‘Never you mind, Miss Charlotte,’ said Betsy, ‘I’m speaking to Fanny here.’