for I remembered nothing until I felt the cold water beat on me."
"I was not kind or good," I said, roughly. "I thought first it was Emily
Tresidder. Had it been, I should not have gone."
"Yes, you would," she said; "you have a kind face. Besides, you should
not hate the Tresidders. Mr. Tresidder is my guardian."
"I am sorry for you," I said.
She looked at me steadily, but did not speak.
"I know what you are thinking about," I said. "I was pilloried at
Falmouth when you saw me before, and I just escaped being flogged before
the crowd. Even now, I suppose, I am being searched for."
"Indeed you are. Do you think you are safe in staying here?"
"It doesn't matter, I suppose; I shall soon be taken."
"Why do you think so?"
"You will, of course, tell Tresidder where I am, and then my liberty
must soon come to an end."
I hated myself for speaking so, for I saw her lips tremble, as though I
had pained her.
"Is not that unkind?" she said, presently, "and do you not judge the
Tresidders wrongly? Have you not provoked them to anger?"
"They have told you about me, then; they have told you that I am a
thief, a vagabond, a bully?"
She did not reply, but I knew from the look on her face that I had
spoken the truth.
For a second there was a silence between us, then she said, "I thank you
very much, and now I must go back to Pennington."
"Not until you hear my story," I said, eagerly.
"Why should you tell me?" she asked.
"Because I do not wish you to judge me wrongly," I said; "because you
have known me only as one who is evil and revengeful. Let me tell you
the truth."
She did not speak, but she looked at me as if expecting me to go on. So
I told her my story eagerly, told it truly, as I have tried to tell it
here, only in fewer words.
"And this is true?" she asked, eagerly. "That is," she said, correcting
herself, "you are sure you are not mistaken?"
"As God lives, it is true," I replied. "Is it any wonder, then, that I
hate the Tresidders, is it any wonder that I should thrash them as I
would thrash a yelping, biting cur?"
"Is it brave for a strong man to pounce upon a weaker one?" she asked.
"They were two to one," I replied; "besides, the street was full of
people, and he has everything on his side, and I am alone, an outcast, a
beggar in my own parish."
"But he has the law on his side."
"Yes; and he has twisted the law to serve his own ends. He and his
mother have used vile too
|