CINDERELLA WOULD SHIELD THE REAL THIEF.
After one of these interviews Pickles went home and consulted Sue.
"Cinderella," he said, "am I to act as yer prince or not?"
"I dunno wot hever yer means, Pickles."
"Well, my beauty, 'tis jest this--the Prince rescued Cinderella from her
cruel sisters, and I want ter rescue you from the arms of justice. You
has a wery shameful accusation hanging over you, Cinderella; you is, in
short, hiding from the law. I can set yer free. Shall I?"
Sue's plump face had grown quite thin during the anxieties of the past
month, and now it scarcely lighted up as she answered Pickles:
"I want ter be set free, but I don't want ter be set free in your way."
"'Tis the only way, Cinderella. The man, Peter Harris, is the guilty
party. He tuk that 'ere locket; he put it in yer pocket. I don't know
how he did it, nor why he did it, but I do know that no one else did it.
I have jest come from him, and lor' bless yer! I have had him on the
torture hooks. I made-b'lieve as you were to be tried next week, and I
axed him to come to the trial. I could a'most see him shivering at the
bare thought, but fur hall that he did not dare but say he'd come. Now,
Cinderella, ef you were to allow me to manage it, and I wer to get you
and he face to face, why, he'd jest have to confess. I'd have a couple
o' witnesses handy, and we'd write it down wot he said, and you'd be set
free. I'd manage so to terrify him aforehand that he'd have ter
confess----"
"And then he'd be put in prison?" said Sue.
"Why, in course; and well he'd deserve it. He's the right party to go,
fur he's guilty. Yes, shameful guilty, too."
"He couldn't manage to run away and escape afterwards?"
Pickles laughed. "You think as I'd help him, maybe. Not a bit o' me! I
don't harbor no guilty parties, Cinderella, as I ha' told yer heaps and
heaps o' times. No, he's guilty, and he goes ter prison; there ain't
nothink hard in sending him ter prison."
"It ha' seemed ter me often lately, Pickles, as it must be harder to lie
in prison guilty than not guilty--you ha'nt, nothink ter trouble yer
mind ef yer ain't guilty."
"Well then, I s'pose, in that case, as yer'll give yerself hup."
"I'd a deal rayther be in hiding with yer, Pickles; but I don't feel as
ef I _could_ put Mr. Harris in prison."
"Then you must go yerself, fur this thing can't go on fur ever."
Sue looked frightened, and her commonplace gray eyes fell to the ground.
She took up the poker and began to trace a pattern on the floor: it was
as intricate as her own fate just now. She was a little heroine,
however, and her noble thoughts redeemed all plainness from her face
when at last she spoke:
"Once, Pickles, arter mother died we was brought down wery low. I had a
dreadful influenzy, and I couldn't nohow go to the machining, and we
were near starving. Mr. Harris lent me a shilling that time, and we
pulled through. Another time I couldn't meet the rent, and Connie, she
begged of her father, and he give me the money; and when I offerd it him
back again he wouldn't take it. He wor a rough man, but he had a kind
heart. When I were last at home he wor in a real dreadful trouble about
Connie--and I loved Connie better nor any one in hall the world, arter
Giles. Pickles, it 'ud break Connie's heart fur her father to be tuk to
prison. I don't know why he did that--ef he really did do it--but I
can't furget those two times as he wor good ter me, and hever since I
have come yere he have done heverything fur Giles. No, I couldn't send
Mr. Harris to prison. I couldn't rest heasy ef I thought o' him sent
there by me. I'd rayther lie there myself."
"Wery well, Cinderella; in course you've got ter choose, fur one or
other of yer must go to prison, as it is against hall common-sense as
you could stay hiding here fur ever. I hadmires yer rare consideration
fur that hardened man, Peter Harris. I can't understand it--no, not the
least bit in the world--but I hadmires it as I hadmires the top o' the
big mountain wot I could never climb, but jest contemplate solemnly from
below. I can understand better yer repugnance not to break the heart o'
that purty Connie. Most plain women is hard on their more lucky sisters,
and I hadmires you, Cinderella, fur rising superior to the wices of yer
sex; but wot I can't hunderstand--wot puzzles me--is yer sad failure in
sisterly love. There's that little brother; why, heven now he's pining
hal to nothing to see yer. Don't yer think as it 'ull break _his_ heart
ef yer is tuk ter prison? Why, ef yer could have seen him when he heerd
me even hint at sech a thing! He said as he wished as he could knock me
down."
The tears rapidly filled Sue's eyes. "Pickles," she said after a moment
of thought, "'tis a wonderful, wonderful puzzlement ter me. I can't
least of all break the heart of Giles. Giles wor left ter me by mother,
and I promised as I'd allers tend him real faithful; but wot I 'as bin
thinking is that ef yer must give me hup, and not hide me any longer,
and I must be locked hup fur a time, that perhaps we might manage as
Giles might still think as I wor in the country. Connie would be wery
good ter him, and Mr. Harris would support him jest as well as I could
have done. Giles, he's that innercent that he'd easily be made ter
believe as I could not help going away. He knows nothink o' life, little
Giles don't; he'd never, never guess as there were ought o' the prison
'bout me, and arter a time he'd get accustomed to doing widout me. I
think, Pickles, we might manage so as not to break Giles's heart, and
yet fur me to go ter prison."
"Then you really, really chooses to go ter prison, Cinderella?"
"I choose, Pickles, never to tell on Peter Harris--never, wot hever
happens. I don't want ter go to prison--not one bit--but ef I can't stay
hiding, why, I s'pose as I must."
"You can't stay hiding more than a day or two longer, Cinderella, and I
thinks as ye're a great fool;" and Pickles walked out of the room in
apparently high dudgeon.