“You would not have liked to see poor Vaughan, the toll-man, killed, though he was a fine sight standing up against the rioters.”
“But why did he come out if there were so many against him? Surely he would not have been killed if he had stayed inside until help came?”
“He was responsible for the gate,” said Harry.
“And he would have been blamed, I suppose,” said Isoline. “How unjust!”
“No, he wouldn’t have been blamed,” said Fenton. He was too young to reflect that people might belong to the same nation and yet speak different languages.
“Poor old man, how very sad,” said the girl. “Which of those dreadful rioters killed him?”
“A man called Walters—Rhys Walters—a very large farmer.”
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Isoline; “then will he be hanged?”
“He will have to stand his trial for manslaughter—that is, when they catch him, if they ever do, for he is a wonderful fellow. I thought at one time I might have taken him myself, but he slipped through my fingers, I can’t imagine how to this day.”
“And were you near when he killed the toll-keeper?”