第115章

But it was only the weakness of an instant; for were not the very minutes precious, for deliberation if not for action? Before she had finished the necessary morning business of dressing, and setting her house in some kind of order, she had disentangled her ravelled ideas, and arranged some kind of a plan for action. If Jem was innocent (and now, of his guilt, even his slightest participation in, or knowledge of; the murder, she acquitted him with all her heart and soul), he must have been somewhere else when the crime was committed; probably with some others, who might bear witness to the fact, if she only knew where to find them. Every thing rested on her. She had heard of an alibi, and believed it might mean the deliverance she wished to accomplish; but she was not quite sure, and determined to apply to Job, as one of the few among her acquaintance gifted with the knowledge of hard words, for to her, all terms of law, or natural history, were alike many-syllabled mysteries. No time was to be lost. She went straight to Job Legh's house, and found the old man and his grand-daughter sitting at breakfast; as she opened the door she heard their voices speaking in a grave, hushed, subdued tone, as if something grieved their hearts They stopped talking on her entrance, and then she knew they had been conversing about the murder; about Jem's probable guilt; and (it flashed upon her for the first time) on the new light they would have obtained regarding herself: for until now they had never heard of her giddy flirting with Mr Carson; not in all her confidential talk with Margaret had she ever spoken of him. And now, Margaret would hear her conduct talked of by all, as that of a bold, bad girl; and eve n if she did not believe everything that was I said, she could hardly help feeling wounded, and disappointed in Mary. So it was in a timid voice that Mary wished her usual good-morrow, and her heart sunk within her a little, when Job, with a form of civility, bade her welcome in that dwelling, where, until now, she had been too well assured to require to be asked to sit down. She took a chair. Margaret continued silent. "I'm come to speak to you about this--about Jem Wilson." "It's a bad business, I'm afeard," replied Job, sadly. "Aye, it's bad enough anyhow. But Jem's innocent. Indeed he is; I'm as sure as sure can be." "How can you know, wench? Facts bear strong again him, poor fellow, though he'd a deal to put him up, and aggravate him, they say. Aye, poor lad, he's done for himself; I'm afeard." "Job," said Mary, rising from her chair in her eagerness, "you must not say he did it. He didn't; I'm sure and certain he didn't. Oh! why do you shake your head? Who is to believe me,--who is to think him innocent, if you, who know'd him so well, stick to it he's guilty?" "I'm loath enough to do it, lass," replied Job; "but I think he's been ill-used, and--jilted (that's plain truth, Mary, bare as it may seem), and his blood has been up--many a man has done the like afore, from like causes. "Oh, God! Then you won't help me, Job, to prove him innocent? Oh Job, Job; believe me, Jem never did harm to no one." "Not afore;--and mind, wench! I don't over-blame him for this." Job relapsed into silence. Mary thought a moment. "Well, Job, you'll not refuse me this, I know. I won't mind what you think, if you'll help me as if he was innocent. Now suppose I know--I knew, he was innocent,--it's only supposing, Job,--what must I do to prove it? Tell me, Job! Is not it called an alibi, the getting folk to swear to where he really was at the time?" "Best way, if you know'd him innocent, would be to find out the real murderer.