“‘If they find he is guilty, he will; but they don’t condemn him; that’s the judge’s business. The jury only decide what is the truth.’
“‘Why must they have so many men to do that? why wouldn’t one do as well?’
“‘It would, if they could be always sure of having a man who couldn’t and wouldn’t make a mistake. It isn’t likely that twelve men will all make the same mistake.’
“‘And must they all be agreed?’ said Sue.
“‘And if they are not, the man can’t be hanged?’
“‘Because, if father isn’t sure that man is guilty,—I mean, that he shot Mr. Bonnycastle,—he won’t let them do anything to him.’
“‘It’s well you can’t be a juryman, Sue; you would never let any rogue have his rights.’
“‘Yes, I would,’ said Sue, gravely; ‘if I thought he deserved them.’
“‘I wouldn’t trust you,’ said Roswald. ‘I should like to have you on the jury if I was standing a trial for my life. You’d be challenged, though.’
“‘Why, Simon Ruffin, for instance, might say, ‘Mr. Peg is an old enemy of mine—he has a spite against me; he would not be a fair judge in my case.’ That would be challenging your father as an improper juryman, and he would he put out of the jury.’
“‘But father isn’t anybody’s enemy,’ said Sue.
“‘No, I know he isn’t,’ said Roswald, smiling; ‘but that’s an instance. Will you have some more pie, Sue?’
“‘No, thank you. I’ll put these things away, and see if mother wants anything; and then, if she don’t, I’ll come down, and we’ll talk.’
“While Sue cleared away the dishes, Roswald mended the fire.
“‘You may as well let the table stand, Sue,’ said he; ‘we shall want it again.’
“‘Why, are you coming to eat with me again?’ said Sue, laughing.
“‘I dare say I shall, if your father don’t come home,’ said Roswald.
“Sue soon came down-stairs, for her mother luckily did not want her; and the two drew their chairs together and had a very long conversation, in the course of which Roswald gave many details of his stay at Merrytown, and enlightened Sue as to the charms and beauties of a country village. Sue looked and listened, and questioned and laughed; till there came a knocking up-stairs, and then they separated. Sue went up to her mother again, and Roswald left the house.
“The room did not look desolate any more, though it was left again without anybody in it. There was the chest-table, and the contented-looking fire, and the two chairs. All this while we shoes lay in the corner, and nobody looked at us. It seemed as if we were never to get done.