"May I come in?"
Don nodded.
"The master's gone, and took the ladies 'long with him. Why, don't look
like that, my lad. Your uncle don't think you took the money?"
Don nodded.
"But your mother don't, sir?"
"Yes, Jem, she believes me guilty too."
"I never did!" cried Jem, excitedly. "But sure-_lie_ Miss Kitty don't?"
"Yes, Jem, they all think I'm a thief. Everybody does," cried Don,
passionately.
"No, everybody don't," said Jem, fiercely; "so don't talk like that,
Mas' Don. Why, even I couldn't ha' stole that money--me, as is only
yard-man, and nothing o' no consequence t'other day. So if I couldn't
ha' done it, I'm quite sure as you, as is a young gentleman born and
bred, couldn't."
"But they think I did. Everybody thinks so."
"Tell yer everybody don't think so," cried Jem, sharply. "I don't, and
as for them, they've all got dust in their eyes, that's what's the
matter with them, and they can't see clear. But didn't you tell 'em as
you didn't?"
"Yes, Jem," said Don, despondently; "at first."
"Then why didn't you at last, too? Here, cheer up, my lad; it'll all
blow over and be forgotten, same as the row was about that
sugar-hogshead as I let them take away. I don't say shake hands 'cause
you're like master and me only man, but I shakes hands with you in my
'art, my lad, and I says, don't be down over it."
"You couldn't shake hands with a thief, you mean, Jem," said Don,
bitterly.
"Look here, Mas' Don, I can't punch your head because, as aforesaid,
you're young master, and I'm only man; but for that there same what you
said just now I hits you in my 'art. Thief indeed! But ah, my lad, it
was a pity as you ever let Mike come into the office to tell you his
lies about furren parts."
"Yes, Jem, it was."
"When you might ha' got all he told you out o' books, and the stories
wouldn't ha' been quite so black."
"Ah, well, it's all over now."
"What's all over?"
"My life here, Jem. I shall go right away."
"Go? What?"
"Right away. Abroad, I think."
"And what'll your mother do?"
"Forget me, I hope. I always was an unlucky fellow Jem."
"What d'yer mean? Run away?"
"Yes, I shall go away."
"Well, that's clever, that is. Why, that's just the way to make 'em
think you did it. Tshah! You stop like a man and face it out."
"When everybody believes me guilty?"
"Don't be so precious aggrawatin', my lad," cried Jem, plaintively.
"Don't I keep on a-telling you that I don't believe you guilty. Why,
I'd just as soon believe that I stole our sugar and sold bundles of
tobacco-leaves to the marine store shops."
Don shook his head.
"Well, of all the aggrawatin' chaps I ever did see, you're 'bout the
worst, Mas' Don. Don't I tell you it'll be all right?"
"No, Jem, it will not be all right. I shall have to go before the
magistrates."
"Well, what of that?"
"What of that?" cried Don, passionately. "Why, that scoundrel Mike will
keep to his story."
"Let him!" cried Jem, contemptuously. "Why, who'd ever believe him i'
preference to you?"
"My uncle--my mother--my cousin."
"Not they, my boy. They don't believe it. They only think they do.
They're sore just now, while it's all fresh. To-morrow by this time
they will be a-hanging o' themselves round about your neck, and a-askin'
of your pardon, and kissin' of you."
"No, Jem, no."
"Well, I don't mean as your uncle will be kissin' of you, of course; but
he'll be sorry too, and a-shaking of your hand."
Don shook his head.
"There, don't get wagging your head like a Chinee figger, my lad. Take
it like a man."
"It seems that the only thing for me to do, Jem, is to tie up a bundle
and take a stick, and go and try my luck somewhere else."
"And you free and independent! Why, what would you say if you was me,
tied up and married, and allus getting into trouble at home."
"Not such trouble as this, Jem."
"Not such trouble as this, my lad? Worser ever so much, for you don't
deserve it, and I do, leastwise, my Sally says I do, and I suppose I do
for being such a fool as to marry her."
"You ought to be ashamed to talk like that, Jem."
"So ought you, Mas' Don. I've often felt as if I should like to do as
you say and run right off, but I don't do it."
"You have felt like that, Jem?" cried Don, eagerly.
"Yes, often, my lad."
"Then let's go, Jem. Nobody cares for us here. Let's go right away to
one of the beautiful foreign countries Mike told me about, and begin a
new life."
"Shall us, Mas' Don?"
"Yes; why not? Get a passage in some ship, and stop where we like. He
has told me of dozens of places that must be glorious."
"Then we won't go," said Jem, decidedly. "If Mike Bannock says they're
fine spots, don't you believe him; they're bad 'uns."
"Then let's go and select a place for ourselves," cried Don.
"Lor! I do wonder at you, Mas' Don, wantin' to leave such a mother as
you've got, and asking me to leave my wife. Why, what would they do?"
"I don't know," said Don, sadly. "They care very little for us now.
You can do as you like; I shall go."
"Nay, nay, you won't, my lad."
"Yes, Jem, I think I shall."
"Ah, that's better! Think about it."
"I should have thought that you'd be glad to come with me, Jem."
"So I should, my lad; but there's a some'at as they calls dooty as allus
seems to have hold on me tight. You wait a bit, and see how things turn
out."
"But I shall have to appear before the magistrates, and be called a
thief."
"Ah, well, that won't be pleasant, my lad, of course; but wait."
"Then you wouldn't go with me, Jem?"
"Don't tempt a man, Mas' Don, because I should like to go with you, and
course I shouldn't like to go with you, because I shouldn't like you to
go. There, I must get on with my work."