ox when we're in. And don't speak nor say nothing." Then the
senior policeman entered the house.
He found Mrs. Crawley sitting in the parlour with her bonnet and
shawl on, and Mr. Crawley in the arm-chair, leaning over the fire. "I
suppose we had better go with you," said Mrs. Crawley directly the
door was opened; for of course she had seen the arrival of the fly
from the window.
"The gentleman had better come with us if he'll be so kind," said
Thompson. "I've brought a close carriage for him."
"But I may go with him?" said the wife, with frightened voice. "I may
accompany my husband. He is not well, sir, and wants assistance."
Thompson thought about it for a moment before he spoke. There was
room in the fly for only two, or if for three, still he knew his
place better than to thrust himself inside together with his prisoner
and his prisoner's wife. He had been specially asked by Mr. Walker to
be very civil. Only one could sit on the box with the driver, and
if the request was conceded the poor policeman must walk back. The
walk, however, would not kill the policeman. "All right, ma'am," said
Thompson;--"that is, if the gentleman will just pass his word not to
get out till I ask him."
"He will not! He will not!" said Mrs. Crawley.
"I will pass my word for nothing," said Mr. Crawley.
Upon hearing this, Thompson assumed a very long face, and shook his
head as he turned his eyes first towards the husband and then towards
the wife, and shrugged his shoulders, and compressing his lips, blew
out his breath, as though in this way he might blow off some of the
mingled sorrow and indignation with which the gentleman's words
afflicted him.
Mrs. Crawley rose and came close to him. "You may take my word for it,
he will not stir. You may indeed. He thinks it incumbent on him not
to give any undertaking himself, because he feels himself to be so
harshly used."
"I don't know about harshness," said Thompson, brindling up. "A close
carriage brought and--"
"I will walk. If I am made to go, I will walk," shouted Mr. Crawley.
"I did not allude to you,--or to Mr. Walker," said the poor wife.
"I know you have been most kind. I meant the harshness of the
circumstances. Of course he is innocent, and you must feel for him."
"Yes, I feel for him, and for you too, ma'am."
"That is all I meant. He knows his own innocence, and therefore he is
unwilling to give way in anything."
"Of course he knows hisself, that's cer
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