"
Old Mr. Delamere's faculties, which had been waning somewhat in sympathy
with his health, were stirred to unusual acuteness by his servant's
danger. He was watching Sandy with all the awakened instincts of the
trial lawyer. He could see clearly enough that, in beginning to account
for the possession of the gold, Sandy had started off with his
explanation in all sincerity. At the mention of the silk purse, however,
his face had blanched to an ashen gray, and the words had frozen upon
his lips.
A less discerning observer might have taken these things as signs of
guilt, but not so Mr. Delamere.
"Well, Sandy," said his master encouragingly, "go on. You got the gold
from"--
Sandy remained silent. He had had a great shock, and had taken a great
resolution.
"Mars John," he asked dreamily, "you don' b'lieve dat I done dis thing?"
"Certainly not, Sandy, else why should I be here?"
"An' nothin' wouldn' make you b'lieve it, suh?"
"No, Sandy,--I could not believe it of you. I've known you too long and
too well."
"An' you wouldn' b'lieve it, not even ef I wouldn' say one wo'd mo'
about it?"
"No, Sandy, I believe you no more capable of this crime than I would
be,--or my grandson, Tom. I wish Tom were here, that he might help me
overcome your stubbornness; but you'll not be so foolish, so absurdly
foolish, Sandy, as to keep silent and risk your life merely to shield
some one else, when by speaking you might clear up this mystery and be
restored at once to liberty.
Pages:
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216