'Shelter,' replied the son. 'I'm in trouble: that's enough. If I'm caught I shall swing; that's certain. Caught I shall be, unless I stop here; that's AS certain. And there's an end of it.'
'You mean to say, you've been robbing, or murdering, then?' said the father.
'Yes, I do,' replied the son. 'Does it surprise you, father?' He looked steadily in the man's face, but he withdrew his eyes, and bent them on the ground.
'Where's your brothers?' he said, after a long pause.
'Where they'll never trouble you,' replied his son: 'John's gone to America, and Henry's dead.'
'Dead!' said the father, with a shudder, which even he could not express.
'Dead,' replied the young man. 'He died in my arms - shot like a dog, by a gamekeeper. He staggered back, I caught him, and his blood trickled down my hands. It poured out from his side like water. He was weak, and it blinded him, but he threw himself down on his knees, on the grass, and prayed to God, that if his mother was in heaven, He would hear her prayers for pardon for her youngest son. "I was her favourite boy, Will," he said, "and I am glad to think, now, that when she was dying, though I was a very young child then, and my little heart was almost bursting, I knelt down at the foot of the bed, and thanked God for having made me so fond of her as to have never once done anything to bring the tears into her eyes. O Will, why was she taken away, and father left?"There's his dying words, father,' said the young man; 'make the best you can of 'em. You struck him across the face, in a drunken fit, the morning we ran away; and here's the end of it.'
The girl wept aloud; and the father, sinking his head upon his knees, rocked himself to and fro.
'If I am taken,' said the young man, 'I shall be carried back into the country, and hung for that man's murder. They cannot trace me here, without your assistance, father. For aught I know, you may give me up to justice; but unless you do, here I stop, until I can venture to escape abroad.'
For two whole days, all three remained in the wretched room, without stirring out. On the third evening, however, the girl was worse than she had been yet, and the few scraps of food they had were gone. It was indispensably necessary that somebody should go out; and as the girl was too weak and ill, the father went, just at nightfall.
He got some medicine for the girl, and a trifle in the way of pecuniary assistance. On his way back, he earned sixpence by holding a horse; and he turned homewards with enough money to supply their most pressing wants for two or three days to come. He had to pass the public-house. He lingered for an instant, walked past it, turned back again, lingered once more, and finally slunk in. Two men whom he had not observed, were on the watch. They were on the point of giving up their search in despair, when his loitering attracted their attention; and when he entered the public-house, they followed him.
'You'll drink with me, master,' said one of them, proffering him a glass of liquor.
'And me too,' said the other, replenishing the glass as soon as it was drained of its contents.
The man thought of his hungry children, and his son's danger. But they were nothing to the drunkard. He DID drink; and his reason left him.
'A wet night, Warden,' whispered one of the men in his ear, as he at length turned to go away, after spending in liquor one-half of the money on which, perhaps, his daughter's life depended.
'The right sort of night for our friends in hiding, Master Warden,'
whispered the other.
'Sit down here,' said the one who had spoken first, drawing him into a corner. 'We have been looking arter the young un. We came to tell him, it's all right now, but we couldn't find him 'cause we hadn't got the precise direction. But that ain't strange, for Idon't think he know'd it himself, when he come to London, did he?'
'No, he didn't,' replied the father.
The two men exchanged glances.
'There's a vessel down at the docks, to sail at midnight, when it's high water,' resumed the first speaker, 'and we'll put him on board. His passage is taken in another name, and what's better than that, it's paid for. It's lucky we met you.'
'Very,' said the second.
'Capital luck,' said the first, with a wink to his companion.
'Great,' replied the second, with a slight nod of intelligence.
'Another glass here; quick' - said the first speaker. And in five minutes more, the father had unconsciously yielded up his own son into the hangman's hands.
Slowly and heavily the time dragged along, as the brother and sister, in their miserable hiding-place, listened in anxious suspense to the slightest sound. At length, a heavy footstep was heard upon the stair; it approached nearer; it reached the landing;and the father staggered into the room.
The girl saw that he was intoxicated, and advanced with the candle in her hand to meet him; she stopped short, gave a loud scream, and fell senseless on the ground. She had caught sight of the shadow of a man reflected on the floor. They both rushed in, and in another instant the young man was a prisoner, and handcuffed.
'Very quietly done,' said one of the men to his companion, 'thanks to the old man. Lift up the girl, Tom - come, come, it's no use crying, young woman. It's all over now, and can't be helped.'
The young man stooped for an instant over the girl, and then turned fiercely round upon his father, who had reeled against the wall, and was gazing on the group with drunken stupidity.
