f a conspiracy.'

Then Mr. Bromley said that all that would be too patent to a jury to
leave any doubt upon the matter. But John Caldigate himself, though he
took great comfort in the society of the clergyman, did in truth rely
rather on the opinion of the lawyer.

The old squire never doubted his son for a moment, and in his
intercourse with Hester showed her all the tenderness and trust of a
loving parent. But he, too, manifestly feared the verdict of a jury.
According to him, things in the world around him generally were
very bad. What was to be expected from an ordinary jury such as
Cambridgeshire would supply but prejudice, thick-headed stupidity,
or at the best a strict obedience to the dictum of a judge. 'It is a
case,' he said, 'in which no jury about here will have sense enough to
understand and weigh the facts. There will be on one side the evidence
of four people, all swearing the same thing. It may be that one or more
of them will break down under cross-examination, and that all will then
be straight. But if not, the twelve men in a box will believe them
because they are four, not understanding that in such a case four may
conspire as easily as two or three. There will be the Judge, no doubt;
but English judges are always favourable to convictions. The Judge
begins with the idea that the man before him would hardly have been
brought there had he not been guilty.'

In all this, and very much more that he said both to Mr. Bromley and
his son, he was expressing his contempt for the world around him rather
than any opinion of his own on this particular matter. 'I often think,'
said he, 'that we have to bear more from the stupidity than from the
wickedness of the world.'

It should be mentioned that about a week after Hester's escape from
Chesterton there came to her a letter from her mother.

'DEAREST HESTER,--You do not think that I do not love you because
I tried to protect you from what I believe to be sin and evil and
temptation? You do not think that I am less your mother because I
caused you suffering? If your eye offend you, pluck it out. Was I
not plucking out my own eye when I caused pain to you? You ought to
come back to me and your father. You ought to do so even now. But
whether you come back or not, will you not remember that I am the
mother who bore you, and have always loved you? And when further
distress shall come upon you, will you not return to me?--Y