earts, would throw themselves
before him, like Queen Philippa at Calais, and beg off the victims. Of
what could, should, or ought to be done, they had no notion; and of
course they were both in terrible distress, Nanny crying passionately
into her apron, and protesting--whenever she could get voice between her
sobs, that if the good lady would get the good gentleman to forgive him
this time--he would never, never do so no more. While Molly Hewlett,
who had some remnants of old respectability about her, was trying her
utmost to induce Mrs Carbonel to intercede.

It was the first time. He was led to it. It was for sport. He had
never done it before. To be sure madam would not let 'em be hard on
poor Judith's brother. No Hewlett--no, nor any Grey--had ever been in
prison before! He was just drove to it, because that there George would
give him no work! She and her poor children would have to come to the
workhouse, and poor Judith! Nanny, too, began to cry out about her poor
children and the parish.

Meanwhile Mrs Carbonel had been trying to get in a word to make them
understand that the matter did not rest with the captain, and that he
had no choice at all in the question but to commit them to gaol to take
their trial. He had no power to let them off, and she could do nothing,
though she was sincerely sorry for the wives; but they neither heard nor
tried to hear, and as the cart was driven up by Master Pucklechurch, the
keeper, and the constable Cox, to the back door for the handcuffed
prisoners, weeping and wailing of the loudest arose, and the women
darted round to embrace their husbands, evidently expecting Mrs
Carbonel to assure them that she would charge herself with the support
of their families while they were in prison.

She was so much distressed, and so pitiful, that she was just going to
do something of the kind, but her husband's gesture stopped her. Billy
Barton howled more loudly than his wife, and, as he could not raise his
hands to his face, presented a terrible spectacle, though the captain
declared there were no tears to be seen. Dan stood grim, stolid, and
impassive, and if he spoke at all, it was in a muttered oath at the
noise his wife was making. It was a great relief when the cart was
driven off, followed by the two women, and Captain Carbonel exclaimed--

"Poor creatures! That Barton is a fool, but Mr Dan is something
worse."

"Oh, those poor women! Why would you not let me spea