When Jerry had finished his confession, Mr. Upham, after a little conversation with the Squire, concluded to withdraw his complaint against Jerry. Oscar was then re-called. He entered the room with a calmer and more confident air than on the first occasion; for since he had discovered how weak the testimony against him was, he had little fear for the result. When, however, Jerry was called to take the oath of a witness, a deadly paleness came over the guilty boy, and he almost fainted. This was quickly succeeded by an expression of rage in his countenance, for Oscar was a boy of strong passions, and when they were excited, he could not conceal them. It was necessary that Jerry should relate under oath, and before Oscar, the account he had already given of the fire, for every person charged with crime has a right to hear the evidence against him. When he had done this, the Squire asked Oscar if he had anything to say.
“No,” replied Oscar.
“Then,” added Squire Walcott, “I have only to say that the evidence of your guilt looks very black, and unless you can break down the testimony of Jerry, I fear your conviction will be certain. I must bind you over for trial, and shall require you to give bonds in the sum of two hundred dollars, to appear before the county court at the next term. “Mr. Preston,” he continued, “will you be his bondsman?”
“No,” replied Mr. Preston, in a decided tone; “the boy has been trouble enough to me, already, and now he may go to jail, for all I care.” A moment after, noticing the distressed look of his nephew, he somewhat relented, in his feelings, and, in a milder tone, assured Oscar that he would write immediately to his father, who would doubtless hasten to his relief, and settle the whole affair without any further trial.
The little court now broke up, and all returned to their homes, save Oscar, who was still in the custody of Mr. Merriam, the constable, in default of bail. After making a few hasty arrangements for the journey, the officer and prisoner set out for the county jail, which was about fifteen miles distant. Mr. Merriam had thought of putting a pair of hand-cuffs upon Oscar, to prevent his escaping, during this long ride; but the latter begged so hard to be spared this humiliation that he relented, and allowed the boy to ride by his side in the open wagon, free and untrammelled. He also tried to divert his mind from his unpleasant situation, by conversation on other subjects, but Oscar seemed little inclined to talk. His heart was full of hard and bitter thoughts against every body, and especially against Mr. Upham, Jerry, and his uncle. He scarcely thought of his own guilt, so absorbed was he in nursing his wrath against those whom he supposed had injured him.
It was towards the middle of the afternoon, when they arrived at the jail. A cold chill ran through Oscar’s veins, for a moment, when he first caught sight of his prison-house. Before, he could hardly realize that he was a prisoner—it all seemed like a dream; but here was the jail before him, with its stone walls and grated windows, and the dream was changed to a reality. Passing through a high gate, they entered that part of the building occupied by the jailer’s family, and were conducted to a room called “the office.” The keeper of the jail soon made his appearance, and Mr. Merriam informed him that Oscar was committed to his custody for trial, and showed him the order from Squire Walcott to that effect. The jailer asked several questions about the case, and then took down a large book, partly filled with writing, and made the following entry within it:—
“October 25th.—Oscar Preston, of Brookdale, aged 14½ years, charged with setting fire to wood, in Brookdale. Examined by Justice Walcott, and committed for trial by Constable Merriam. Bail $200. Of ordinary height for his age, slender form, light complexion, brown hair, and blue eyes. Dress,—gray pantaloons, dark blue jacket buttoned to chin, blue cloth cap. Cell No. 19.”
The object of this brief description of the dress and personal appearance of Oscar was, that he might be the more easily identified, should he happen to escape from the jail. Mr. Merriam, bidding a kind good-bye to the young prisoner, now departed, and the jailer proceeded to examine Oscar’s pockets, to see if there was anything in them not allowed in the prison. The only articles he took from them were two cigars, which he tossed into the fire-place, telling Oscar he would have no use for them there. He then conducted him through a long and dark passage-way to cell No. 19, which he had entered against his name in the registry-book, and which was to be Oscar’s home for the present. It was a small, narrow room, with one window, near the top, which was guarded by iron bars. The walls and floor were of brick (the former had been recently white-washed) and the door was of iron. A sort of bunk was fitted up in one corner of the cell, which was supplied with bed-clothes. There were also a small red pine table and an old chair, a basin, bucket, tin dipper, and several other articles of furniture.
Oscar did not seem to be much pleased with the appearance of his cell, and he said to the jailer:—
“Can’t you let me have a better room than this? I shan’t stop here but a few days, and my father will pay you for it, when he comes, if you will let me have a good room.”