The Labor enquirer., 1882-12-30

/ 10. no calmer, no more certain than at
first still wringing her hands, looking
helplessly out into the bright blue air,
"A sudden sound made her stop and
stand motionless, listening. It was the
Jar of one of the cell doors; they were
taking Sam out. She heard his slow,
firm step among all the Others, passing
through the hall. 1t tseemed to3quiet. de-
termine her; she ran to the iron door Of
her room; by which he must pass, and am
laid her haid on it as if it had been his
breast. I'll save you, she said, in hot
whisper He was innocent; if she lived
to prove the truth, would God blame
her? Then she paused, That mean
sophism away, she was too clear-headed
to accept it. Il love him" she said, look
ing up, fierce light in her homely face.
4I'll save him. God can do to me what
he will. That's all" Y Il
The steps went out on the pavement,
the hall door changed, there was noise
of wheels driving away. t5.1
In few moments her mother and
father came in. '"Time's up, Matty,"
the latter said, cheerfully. tits only a
few steps around to Squire Dutton's
office. Sam was put in rather informal
last night, as much to get out. of the mob
as any other, reason. It'll all be plain
sailing this morning. Well have him
taking tea with us tonight as usual on
holidays
"No; I'll put off the New Year dinner
till late. That's better" said his wife.
"Sam's monstrous fond of turkey" tying
on Martha's hood and furS as she spoke!
Oh! if what they said were real words
Was she ever to sit down by Sam again
at the CHEEKY little table, with the four
happy faces about it? Yesterday, those
cozy little feaSts had seemed dull and
wearing, now they were fair and bright
as dreams of paradise.
'I'll 60 speak to Holster before we
start" said the jailer, with a warning
look at his wife to be silent. She did
not heed it.
II was dozin', Matty, last night" said
the mother, in rapid mutter, her hands
trembling as they smoothed the pelerine.
"BuL Pm dead sure as the clock struck 8
just as Sam went. You know. For Gods
sake, save him, child. He's aged ten
years since they put him in"
Come, Martha" cried her fathers
voice, interrupting her. She went out to
where her father stood in the hall his
face had a new trouble on it. 'That
poor wretch we took in last night is
dyin'," he said. "You'd best stay with
her. wife. Dr. M'Coy says as she's took
some drug, and took more on it through
the night. It's too late to save her, he
says. An she's turned out to be Marget
Hench, Sam Cartons cousin; her as was
unfortunate some time ago" All this in
rapid undertone to his wife; then tuck
ing Martha's hand under his arm, he led
her briskly down the street.
The sun had broken from behind the
gray pail of clouds, and gHttered bril-
Hantly on the snow, the dripping icicles,
the long rows of red brick houses, with
cheerful fires shining through their win
dows the streets were full of happy
faces; crowds of young men, furred
and cloaked, dashing along in sleighs,
making their New Years calls One,
more earnest, honest, hard-wOrking than
the whole of them, waited for a gibbet;
she could save him only she. Her
father, who was watching her, stopped
short. "Ye's sick, Matty" kneading her
hands in his. ITS so then as you can't
speak the good word for Sam?" in avoice
of blank disappointment.
"Come on" she said, steadily. Its
only a step farther"
The magistrates office, was one
roomed wooden shed at the corner of
Pleasant and John streets. There was a
crowd of Ioafers on the steps and about
the doors when they came. near trying
to catch any crumb of news from within;
for the door itself was locked They
made way for Tolivar and his daughter,
with whispers about "Carton's sweet
heart, prove an aibi," meat foot and
ankle" And this while the man that
had loved her was so near death on the
other side of the door.