now!'

'--You are impatient,' said the blind man, calmly; 'it's a good sign,
and looks like life--that your son Barnaby had been lured away from her
by one of his companions who knew him of old, at Chigwell; and that he
is now among the rioters.'

'And what is that to me? If father and son be hanged together, what
comfort shall I find in that?'

'Stay--stay, my friend,' returned the blind man, with a cunning look,
'you travel fast to journeys' ends. Suppose I track my lady out, and say
thus much: "You want your son, ma'am--good. I, knowing those who tempt
him to remain among them, can restore him to you, ma'am--good. You must
pay a price, ma'am, for his restoration--good again. The price is small,
and easy to be paid--dear ma'am, that's best of all."'

'What mockery is this?'

'Very likely, she may reply in those words. "No mockery at all," I
answer: "Madam, a person said to be your husband (identity is difficult
of proof after the lapse of many years) is in prison, his life in
peril--the charge against him, murder. Now, ma'am, your husband has been
dead a long, long time. The gentleman never can be confounded with him,
if you will have the goodness to say a few words, on oath, as to when he
died, and how; and that this person (who I am told resembles him in some
degree) is no more he than I am. Such testimony will set the question
quite at rest. Pledge yourself to me to give it, ma' am, and I will
undertake to keep your son (a fine lad) out of harm's way until you have
done this trifling service, when he shall be delivered up to you, safe
and sound. On the other hand, if you decline to do so, I fear he will be
betrayed, and handed over to the law, which will assuredly sentence him
to suffer death. It is, in fact, a choice between his life and death. If
you refuse, he swings. If you comply, the timber is not grown, nor the
hemp sown, that shall do him any harm."'

'There is a gleam of hope in this!' cried the prisoner.

'A gleam!' returned his friend, 'a noon-blaze; a full and glorious
daylight. Hush! I hear the tread of distant feet. Rely on me.'

'When shall I hear more?'

'As soon as I do. I should hope, to-morrow. They are coming to say that
our time for talk is over. I hear the jingling of the keys. Not another
word of this just now, or they may overhear us.'

As he said these words, the lock was turned, and one of the prison
turnkeys appearing at the door, announced that it was time for visitors
to le