“Oh! Saul!” cried Meg, “Saul Braintree, what hast thee done?—thou hast murdered thy son!”
“Murdered my viddlestick! He's the'zquire's—Jemmy Ztapleton's buoy;—Martin be mine.”
“Martin Stapleton, father!” almost shrieked Peggy.
“Ay, wench; and he cut the cord vor me, like a Briton.”
“Said! Saul!” replied Meg, “doan't thee smile; my poor heart be bursting. I never thought I should see this night!”
“Woe's me, mother; I was almost killed wi' trouble before, and now such news as this!” sobbed Peggy, pressing her hands to her eyes.
“What be the matter, missus?—All's right;—doan't be dashed.”
“If thou didst kill Govier, Saul,” said Meg, “thou bee'st a vather, vor all that; and I do pity thee:—thou hast laid a trap vor thy own son. When thou went'st away a smuggling that time, just after the 'squire had discharged thee, and when we knowed he was looking out for another nurse—”
“Well, what then?” interrupted Saul.
“Why, Saul, thou didst tempt me to change the children. I promised thee I would:—I tried, and I couldn't!—Thee thought'st to deceive 'Squire Stapleton, but I deceived thee, Saul. I couldn't send away my own boy—my virst-born—my darling. If thee wert a mother, thee wouldst vorgive me. Oh! that I had done as thee told me! Saul, Saul, thee hast murdered thy child! Bob's thy own vlesh and blood,—and Martin Stapleton be no kin to thee.”