“The constables are after Mr. Randall,” Lois explained. “There they are now!” she cried. “They are coming from the house, and he is walking between them.”
“Are they going to put him in prison?” the girl asked.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
With a wild cry, Betty sprang forward and rushed up the road. Lois followed, wondering what the girl was going to do. She reached the crowd just as Jasper and the constables approached, and stood there a silent watcher. What could she do? she asked herself. Would he see her, and know of her sympathy?
Jasper was walking with a free easy motion, closely guarded by the two constables, one of whom was Jim Goban. His face was pale and he looked very careworn, but he held his head erect and kept his eyes straight before him. Betty standing near, rushed suddenly forward and caught him by the hand.
“Oh, Mr. Jasper,” she cried, “we know you didn’t do at, and I want to tell you so.”
Taken by surprise, Jasper paused and looked at the girl.
“Thank you,” he replied. “I am glad you believe in me.”
“And so does Miss Lois,” Betty explained. “She’s standing right there,” and she motioned to the right.
Jasper turned, saw Lois, and their eyes met. Not a word did they say, but in that fleeting glance the expression that he saw in the eyes of the woman he loved gave him great comfort and courage.
“Git out of the way, girl,” Jim Goban brutally ordered. “What d’ye mean by stoppin’ us in our duty? We’ll miss the boat if we don’t hurry.”
Lois stood and watched Jasper and the constables until a bend in the road hid them from view. Then taking Betty by the hand, she moved away from the crowd. She could not bear to listen to their animated discussions as to what would happen to the prisoner, for she was well aware that most of them believed him to be guilty. She walked quite fast until the path across the field was reached. This led along the edge of a grove of young maples and birches, and here was a restful seclusion from all prying eyes.
“You must come and have dinner with me, Betty,” she said, speaking for the first time since leaving the crowd. “You will be lonely at the Haven now, and I would like to have you for company, as Miss Westcote has gone to the city.”
“Oh, may I?” and the girl lifted her tear-dimmed eyes to her companion’s face. “How nice that will be, and we can talk together about him, can’t we? I must go home soon, for mother will be anxious to see me. She hasn’t been well lately and wasn’t able to get to the funeral. I must do what I can to help her.”
“You will not have to work out any more, I suppose,” Lois remarked.
“Why?” the girl asked.
“Because of the money Mr. David has left you. You remember what Mrs. Wadell said, don’t you?”