he felt for both. Even the
dog showed, as he looked up into Joey's face, that he was aware that a
foul deed had been done. The silence which it appeared none would
venture to break, was at last dissolved by the clock of the village
church solemnly striking two. They all started up--it was a warning--it
reminded them of the bell tolling for the dead--of time and of eternity;
but time present quickly effaced for the moment other ideas; yes, it was
time to act; in four hours more it would be daylight, and the blood of
the murdered man would appeal to his fellow-men for vengeance. The sun
would light them to the deed of darkness--the body would be brought
home--the magistrates would assemble--and who would be the party
suspected?

"Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed Jane, "what can be done?"

"There is no proof;" muttered Rushbrook.

"Yes, there is," observed Joey, "I left my bag there, when I stooped
down to--"

"Silence!" cried Rushbrook. "Yes," continued he, bitterly, to his wife,
"this is your doing; you must send the boy after me, and now there will
be evidence against me; I shall owe my death to you."

"Oh, say not so! say not so!" replied Jane, falling down on her knees,
and weeping bitterly as she buried her face in his lap; "but there is
yet time," cried she, starting up; "Joey can go and fetch the bag. You
will, Joey: won't you, dear? you are not afraid--you are innocent."

"Better leave it where it is, mother," replied Joey, calmly.

Rushbrook looked up at his son with surprise; Jane caught him by the
arm; she felt convinced the boy had some reason for what he said--
probably some plan that would ward off suspicion--yet how could that be,
it was evidence against them, and after looking earnestly at the boy's
face, she dropped his arm. "Why so, Joey?" said she, with apparent
calmness.

"Because," replied Joey, "I have been thinking about it all this time; I
am innocent, and therefore I do not mind if they suppose me guilty. The
bag is known to be mine--the gun I must throw into a ditch two fields
off. You must give me some money, if you have any; if not, I must go
without it; but there is no time to be lost. I must be off and away
from here in ten minutes; to-morrow ask every one if they have seen or
heard of me, because I have left the house some time during the night.
I shall have a good start before that; besides, they may not find the
pedlar for a day or two, perhaps; at all events, not till some