ing to
nobody." Then he left them and went away to the magistrates.

Mr. Crawley had not spoken a word since he had entered the vehicle.
Nor had she said much to him, but had sat with him holding his hand
in hers. Now he spoke to her,--"Where is it that we are?" he asked.

"At Silverbridge, dearest."

"But what is this chamber? And why are we here?"

"We are to wait here till the magistrates are ready. They are in the
next room."

"But this is the Inn?"

"Yes dear, it is the Inn."

"And I see crowds of people about." There were crowds of people
about. There had been men in the yard, and others standing about on
the stairs, and the public room was full of men who were curious to
see the clergyman who had stolen twenty pounds, and to hear what
would be the result of the case before the magistrates. He must be
committed; so, at least said everybody; but then there would be the
question of bail. Would the magistrates let him out on bail, and who
would be the bailsmen? "Why are the people here?" said Mr. Crawley.

"I suppose it is a custom when the magistrates are sitting," said his
wife.

"They have come to see the degradation of a clergyman," said
he;--"and they will not be disappointed."

"Nothing can degrade but guilt," said his wife.

"Yes,--misfortune can degrade, and poverty. A man is degraded when
the cares of the world press so heavily upon him that he cannot rouse
himself. They have come to look at me as though I were a hunted
beast."

"It is but their custom always on such days."

"They have not always a clergyman before them as a criminal." Then he
was silent for a while, while she was chafing his cold hands. "Would
that I were dead, before they had brought me to this! Would that I
were dead!"

"Is it not right, dear, that we should all bear what He sends us?"

"Would that I were dead!" he repeated. "The load is too heavy for me
to bear, and I would that I were dead."

The time seemed to be very long before Thompson returned and asked
them to accompany him into the big room. When he did so, Mr. Crawley
grasped hold of the chair as though he had resolved that he would not
go.

But his wife whispered a word to him, and he obeyed her. "He will
follow me," she said to the policeman. And in that way they went from
the smaller room into the large one. Thompson went first; Mrs. Crawley
with her veil down came next; and the wretched man followed his wife,
with his eyes fixed upon the ground and hi