THE PROSECUTION.
As soon as Crawford had his things away from Potlurg, satisfied the cup
was nowhere among them, he made a statement of the case to a magistrate
he knew; and so represented it, as the outcome of the hypocrisy of
pietism, that the magistrate, hating everything called fanatical, at
once granted him a warrant to apprehend Dawtie on the charge of theft.
It was a terrible shock. Alexa cried out with indignation. Dawtie turned
white and then red, but uttered never a word.
“Dawtie,” said her mistress, “tell me what you know about the cup. You
do know something that you have not told me!”
“I do, ma'am, but I will not tell it except I am forced.”
“That you are going to be, my poor girl! I am very sorry, for I am
perfectly sure you have done nothing you know to be wrong!”
“I have done nothing you or anybody would think wrong, ma'am.”
She put on her Sunday frock, and went down to go with the policeman. To
her joy she found her mistress at the door, ready to accompany her. They
had two miles or more to walk, but that was nothing to either.
Questioned by the magistrate, not unkindly, for her mistress was there,
Dawtie told everything--how first she came upon the likeness and history
of the cup, and then saw the cup itself in her master's hands.
Crawford told how the laird had warned him against Dawtie, giving him to
understand that she had been seized with a passion for the goblet such
that she would peril her soul to possess it, and that he dared not let
her know where it was.
“Sir,” said Dawtie, “he could na hae distrusted me like that, for he gae
me his keys, and sent me to fetch the cup when he was ower ill to gang
till't.”
“If that be true, your worship,” said Crawford, “it does not affect the
fact that the cup was in the hands of the old man when I left him and
she went to him, and from that moment it has not been seen.”
“Did he have it when you went to him?” asked the magistrate.
“I didna see't, sir. He was in a kind o' faint when I got up.”
Crawford said that, hearing a cry, he ran up again, and found the old
man at the point of death, with just strength to cry out before he died,
that Dawtie had taken the cup from him. Dawtie was leaning over him, but
he had not imagined the accusation more than the delirious fancy of a
dying man, till it appeared that the cup was not to be found.
The magistrate made out Dawtie's commitment for trial. He remarked that
she might have been misled by a false notion of duty: he had been
informed that she belonged to a sect claiming the right to think for
themselves on the profoundest mysteries--and here was the result! There
was not a man in Scotland less capable of knowing what any woman was
thinking, or more incapable of doubting his own insight.
Doubtless, he went on, she had superstitiously regarded the cup as
exercising a Satanic influence on the mind of her master; but even if
she confessed it now, he must make an example of one whose fanaticism
would set wrong right after the notions of an illiterate sect, and not
according to the laws of the land. He just send the case to be tried by
a jury! If she convinced the twelve men composing that jury, of the
innocence she protested, she would then be a free woman.
Dawtie stood very white all the time he was speaking, and her lips every
now and then quivered as if she were going to cry, but she did not.
Alexa offered bail, but his worship would not accept it: his righteous
soul was too indignant. She went to Dawtie and kissed her, and together
they followed the policeman to the door, where Dawtie was to get into a
spring-cart with him, and be driven to the county town, there to lie
waiting the assizes.
The bad news had spread so fast that as they came out, up came Andrew.
At sight of him Dawtie gently laughed, like a pleased child. The
policeman, who, like many present, had been prejudiced by her looks in
her favor, dropped behind, and she walked between her mistress and
Andrew to the cart.
“Dawtie!” said Andrew.
“Oh, Andrew! has God forgotten me?” she returned, stopping short.
“For God to forget,” answered Andrew, “would be not to be God any
longer!”
“But here I am on my road til a prison, Andrew! I didna think He would
hae latten them do't!”
“A bairn micht jist as weel say, whan its nurse lays't intil its cradle,
and says: 'Noo, lie still!' 'Mammy, I didna think ye would hae latten
her do't!' He's a' aboot ye and in ye, Dawtie, and this is come to ye
jist to lat ye ken 'at He is. He raised ye up jist to spen' His glory
upo'! I say, Dawtie, did Jesus Christ deserve what He got?”
“No ae bit, Andrew! What for should ye speir sic a thing?”
“Then do ye think God hae forgotten Him?”
“May be He thoucht it jist for a minute!”
“Well, ye hae thoucht jist for a minute, and ye maun think it nae mair.”
“But God couldna forget _Him_, An'rew: He got it a' for doin' His will!”
“Evil may come upon as from other causes than doing the will of God; but
from whatever cause it comes, the thing we have to see to is, that
through it all we do the will of God!”
“What's His will noo, An'rew?”
“That ye tak it quaietly. Shall not the Father do wi' His ain child what
He will! Can He no shift it frae the tae airm to the tither, but the
bairn maun girn? He has ye, Dawtie! It's a' richt!”
“Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him!” said Dawtie.
She raised her head. The color had come back to her face; her lips had
ceased to tremble; she stepped on steadily to where, a few yards from
the door, the spring-cart was waiting her. She bade her mistress
good-bye, then turned to Andrew and said:
“Good-bye, An'rew! I am not afraid.”
“I am going with you, Dawtie,” said Andrew.
“No, sir, you can't do that!” said the policeman; “at least you can't go
in the trap!”
“No, no, Andrew!” cried Dawtie. “I would rather go alone. I am quite
happy now. God will do with me as He pleases!”
“I am going with you,” said Alexa, “if the policeman will let me.”
“Oh, yes, ma'am! A lady's different!--I've got to account for the
prisoner you see, sir!”
“I don't think you should, ma'am,” said Dawtie. “It's a long way!”
“I am going,” returned her mistress, decisively.
“God bless you, ma'am!” said Andrew.
Alexa had heard what he said to Dawtie. A new light had broken upon her.
“God is like that, is He?” she said to herself. “You can go close up to
Him whenever you like?”