Through the Fray: A Tale of the Luddite Riots by G. A. Henty (novel books to read txt) 📕

supposing that it was Mr. Edward Sankey who cut this rope more than anyone else?”

“No, sir.”

Charlie was the next witness. The boy was as white as a sheet, and his eyes were swollen with crying. He glanced piteously at his brother, and exclaimed with a sob, “Oh! Ned.”

“Don't mind, Charlie,” Ned said quietly. “Tell the whole story exactly as it happened. You can't do me any harm, old boy.”

So encouraged Charlie told the whole story of the quarrel arising in the first place from his stepfather's ill temper at the tea table.

“Your brother meant nothing specially unpleasant in calling your stepfather Foxey?” Mr. Wakefield asked.

“No, sir; he had always called him so even before he knew that he was going to marry mother. It was a name, I believe, the men called him, and Ned got it from them.”

“I believe that your stepfather had received threatening letters, had he not?”

“Yes, sir, several; he was afraid to put his new machines to work because of them.”

“Thank you, that will do,” Mr. Wakefield said. “I have those letters in my possession,” he went on to the magistrates. “They are proof that the deceased had enemies who had threatened to take his life. Shall I produce them now?”

“It is hardly worth while, Mr. Wakefield, though they can be brought forward at the trial. I may say, indeed, that we have seen some of them already, for it was on account of these letters that we applied for the military to be stationed here.”

It was not thought necessary to call Mrs. Mulready; but the servant gave her evidence as to what she had heard of the quarrel, and as to the absence of Ned from home that night.

“Unless you are in a position to produce evidence, Mr. Wakefield, proving clearly that at the time the murder was committed the prisoner was at a distance from the spot, we are prepared to commit him for trial.”

Mr. Wakefield intimated that he should reserve his evidence for the trial itself, and Ned was then formally committed.

The examination in no way altered the tone of public opinion. The general opinion was that Ned had followed his stepfather to the mill, intending to attack him, that he had stumbled onto the coil of rope, and the idea occurred to him of tying it across the road and upsetting the gig on its return. Charlie's evidence as to the savage assault upon his brother had created a stronger feeling of sympathy than had before prevailed, and had the line of defense been that, smarting under his injuries, Ned had suddenly determined to injure his stepfather by upsetting the gig, but without any idea of killing him, the general opinion would have been that under such provocation as Ned had received a lengthened term of imprisonment would have been an ample punishment. More than one, indeed, were heard to say, “Well, if I were on the jury, my verdict would be, Served him right.”

Still, although there was greater sympathy than before with Ned, there were few, indeed, who doubted his guilt.

After Ned was removed from court he was taken back by the chief constable to his house, and ten minutes later he was summoned into the parlor, where he found Charlie and Lucy waiting him. Lucy, who was now ten years old, sprang forward to meet him; he lifted her, and for awhile she lay with her head on his shoulder and her arms round his neck, sobbing bitterly, while Charlie clung to his brother's disengaged hand.

“Don't cry, Lucy, don't cry little woman; it will all come right in the end;” but Lucy's tears were not to be stanched. Ned sat down, and after a time soothed her into stillness, but she still lay nestled up in his arms.

“It was dreadful, Ned,” Charlie said, “having to go into court as a witness against you. I had thought of running away, but did not know where to go to, and then Mr. Porson had a talk with me and told me that it was of the greatest importance that I should tell everything exactly word for word, just as it happened. He said every one knew there had been a quarrel, and that if I did not tell everything it would seem as if I was keeping something back in order to screen you, and that would do you a great deal of harm, and that, as really you were not to blame in the quarrel, my evidence would be in your favor rather than against you. He says he knew that you would wish me to tell exactly what took place.”

“Certainly, Charlie; there is nothing I could want hid. I was wrong to speak of him as Foxey, and to let fly as I did about him; but there was nothing intended to offend him in that, because, of course, I had no idea that he could hear me. The only thing I have to blame myself very much for is for getting into a wild passion. I don't think any one would say I did wrong in going out of the house after being knocked about so; but if I had not got into a passion, and had gone straight to Bill's, or to Abijah, or to Mr. Porson, which would have been best of all, to have stopped the night, all this would not have come upon me; but I let myself get into a blind passion and stopped in it for hours, and I am being punished for it.”

“It was natural that you should get in a passion,” Charlie said stoutly. “I think any one would have got in a passion.”

“I don't think you would, Charlie,” Ned said, smiling.

“No,” Charlie replied; “but then you see that is not my way. I should have cried all night; but then I am not a great, strong fellow like you, and it would not be so hard to be knocked about.”

“It's no use making excuses, Charlie. I know I ought not to have given way to my temper like that. Now, Lucy dear, as you are feeling better, you must sit up and talk to me. How is mother?”

“Mother is in bed,” Lucy said. “She's always in bed now; the house is dreadful, Ned, without you, and they say you are not to come back yet,” and the tears came very near to overflowing again.

“Ah! well, I hope I shall be back before long, Lucy.”

“I hope so,” Lucy said; “but you know you will soon be going away again to be a soldier.”

“I shall not go away again now, Lucy,” Ned said quietly. “When I come back it will be for good.”

“Oh! that will be nice,” Lucy said joyously, “just as it used to be, with no one to be cross and scold about everything.”

“Hush! little woman, don't talk about that. He had his faults, dear, as we all have, but he had a great deal to worry him, and perhaps we did not make allowances enough for him, and I do think he was really fond of you, Lucy, and when people are dead we should never speak ill of them.”

“I don't want