“Do you think you will persuade those who are hardened in guilt to die to save another?—Is that the reed you would lean to?”
“But you said there was a remedy,” again gasped out the terrified young woman.
“There is,” answered the stranger, “and it is in your own hands. The blow which the law aims cannot be broken by directly encountering it, but it may be turned aside. You saw your sister during the period preceding the birth of her child—what is so natural as that she should have mentioned her condition to you? The doing so would, as their cant goes, take the case from under the statute, for it removes the quality of concealment. I know their jargon, and have had sad cause to know it; and the quality of concealment is essential to this statutory offence.*
* Note K. Child Murder.
Nothing is so natural as that Effie should have mentioned her condition to you—think—reflect—I am positive that she did.”
“Woe’s me!” said Jeanie, “she never spoke to me on the subject, but grat sorely when I spoke to her about her altered looks, and the change on her spirits.”
“You asked her questions on the subject?” he said eagerly. “You must remember her answer was, a confession that she had been ruined by a villain—yes, lay a strong emphasis on that—a cruel false villain call it—any other name is unnecessary; and that she bore under her bosom the consequences of his guilt and her folly; and that he had assured her he would provide safely for her approaching illness.—Well he kept his word!” These last words he spoke as if it were to himself, and with a violent gesture of self-accusation, and then calmly proceeded, “You will remember all this?—That is all that is necessary to be said.”
“But I cannot remember,” answered Jeanie, with simplicity, “that which Effie never told me.”
“Are you so dull—so very dull of apprehension?” he exclaimed, suddenly grasping her arm, and holding it firm in his hand. “I tell you” (speaking between his teeth, and under his breath, but with great energy), “you must remember that she told you all this, whether she ever said a syllable of it or no. You must repeat this tale, in which there is no falsehood, except in so far as it was not told to you, before these Justices—Justiciary—whatever they call their bloodthirsty court, and save your sister from being murdered, and them from becoming murderers. Do not hesitate—I pledge life and salvation, that in saying what I have said, you will only speak the simple truth.”
“But,” replied Jeanie, whose judgment was too accurate not to see the sophistry of this argument, “I shall be man-sworn in the very thing in which my testimony is wanted, for it is the concealment for which poor Effie is blamed, and you would make me tell a falsehood anent it.”