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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
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