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| 1 | 133 | 265 | 398 | 530 |
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'I give you my word, constable - ' said Brass. But here the constable
interposed with the constitutional principle 'words be blowed;'
observing that words were but spoon-meat for babes and sucklings,
and that oaths were the food for strong men.
'
'
Quite true, constable,' assented Brass in the same mournful tone.
Strictly correct. I give you my oath, constable, that down to a few
minutes ago, when this fatal discovery was made, I had such
confidence in that lad, that I'd have trusted him with - a hackney-
coach, Mr Richard, sir; you're very slow, Sir.'
'
Who is there that knows me,' cried Kit, 'that would not trust me -
that does not? ask anybody whether they have ever doubted me;
whether I have ever wronged them of a farthing. Was I ever once
dishonest when I was poor and hungry, and is it likely I would begin
now! Oh consider what you do. How can I meet the kindest friends
that ever human creature had, with this dreadful charge upon me!'
Mr Brass rejoined that it would have been well for the prisoner if he
had thought of that, before, and was about to make some other
gloomy observations when the voice of the single gentleman was
heard, demanding from above-stairs what was the matter, and what
was the cause of all that noise and hurry. Kit made an involuntary
start towards the door in his anxiety to answer for himself, but being
speedily detained by the constable, had the agony of seeing Sampson
Brass run out alone to tell the story in his own way.
'And he can hardly believe it, either,' said Sampson, when he
returned, 'nor nobody will. I wish I could doubt the evidence of my
senses, but their depositions are unimpeachable. It's of no use cross-
examining my eyes,' cried Sampson, winking and rubbing them, 'they
stick to their first account, and will. Now, Sarah, I hear the coach in
the Marks; get on your bonnet, and we'll be off. A sad errand! a moral
funeral, quite!'
'Mr Brass,' said Kit. 'do me one favour. Take me to Mr Witherden's
first.'
Sampson shook his head irresolutely.
'
Do,' said Kit. 'My master's there. For Heaven's sake, take me there,
first.'
'
Well, I don't know,' stammered Brass, who perhaps had his reasons
for wishing to show as fair as possible in the eyes of the notary. 'How
do we stand in point of time, constable, eh?'
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