There was general smile of satisfaction about the room at hearing this decision. The clerk wrote down the verdict in the record. The judge directed the prisoner to be discharged, and then called for the case which came next on the docket.2

Antonio went out with Mr. Keep and got into a wagon which Mr. Keep had provided all ready for him at the door. They set out, counsel and client, on their return to Franconia.

Mr. Keep was of course very much relieved at the result of the trial; for though he was himself perfectly satisfied of his client's innocence, still the circumstances were very strong against him, and there was, in fact, nothing but his good character in his favor. He had been very much afraid, therefore, that Antonio would be condemned, for the jury are bound to decide according to the evidence that is placed before them.

"You have got off very well, so far," said Mr. Keep. "Having been accused as an accomplice in the crime, it was your privilege to be silent. Should you, however, hereafter be called upon as a witness, you will have to give your testimony."

"Why must I?" asked Antonio.

"Your duty to your country requires it," said Mr. Keep.

"Then," said Antonio, "I suppose I must, and I will."

IV. ANOTHER TRIAL

Rodolphus and his two confederates in crime were in a state of great anxiety and apprehension, during the period which intervened between the committing of the crime and the trial of Antonio. Antonio did not attempt to hold any communication with Rodolphus during this interval, for fear that by so doing he might awaken in people's minds some suspicion of the truth. He had, however, a secret plan of doing something to save Rodolphus from ruin, so soon as the excitement, which had been occasioned by the robbery and the fire, should have passed by. All his plans however were defeated by an unexpected train of occurrences, which took place a day or two after his acquittal, and which changed suddenly the whole aspect of the affair.

One night very soon after Antonio's trial, Rodolphus, after he had gone to bed and was just falling asleep, was awakened by a loud knocking at his door.

"Rodolphus!" said a harsh voice, outside, "Rodolphus! get up and let us in."

Rodolphus was dreadfully terrified. He was always terrified by any unexpected sight or sound, as the guilty usually are. He got up and opened the door. Mr. Kerber and another man came in.

"You are my prisoner," said the stranger. "You must put on your clothes and come with me."

Rodolphus was in great distress and trepidation. He however put on his clothes. He did not dare to ask what he was arrested for. He knew too well. The officer informed him that he was arrested on a charge of being concerned in the robbery of Mr. Kerber, but that he need not say any thing about it unless he chose to do so. Rodolphus was so terrified and distressed that he did not know what to say or do. So the officer led him away, pale and trembling, to his house, and locked him up in the same room where Antonio had been confined. There was a little bed in one corner of the room. Rodolphus went and sat down upon it, and sobbed and wept in anguish and despair.

In a day or two his friends in Franconia heard of his arrest, and Mr. Keep went down to see him. Mr. Keep came as Rodolphus's counsel and friend – in order to confer with him and to defend him on his trial; but Rodolphus considered him as banded with all the rest of the world against him, and either could not, or would not answer any of the friendly questions which Mr. Keep proposed to him; but sat crying all the time while Mr. Keep was there, and making himself very miserable. Mr. Keep saw at once that he was guilty, and despaired of being able to do any thing to save him.

There was nobody to give bail for Rodolphus, and so it was necessary to keep him in close confinement until the time for his trial arrived. In consideration, however, of his tender years, it was decided not to take him to the jail, but to keep him at the house of the officer, in the strong room where he was put when he was first arrested.

The room itself was a very comfortable one, but Rodolphus spent his time in it very unhappily. The people treated him very kindly, but nothing gave him any peace or comfort. They brought him books, but he could not read well enough to take any pleasure in them. Sometimes he would go to the window and look out upon the green yard, but it only made him more miserable to see the grass and the flowers, and the trees waving in the wind, and the birds flying about at liberty. Sometimes he saw Dorinda there playing with her kitten, and singing little songs; but this sight made him more unhappy than all the rest.

Rodolphus's mother came down to to see him once, with Antonio. Antonio drove down with her in a wagon. The visit, however, did not give either Rodolphus or his mother any pleasure. They spoke scarcely a word to each other, while she staid. When she got into the wagon to go home, Antonio, seeing how much she was distressed, tried to comfort her by saying, that she must not be so troubled; he hoped, he said, that Rodolphus would yet turn out to be a good boy. There had been a great many cases, where boys had been led away when young, by bad company, to do what was very wrong, who were afterward sorry for it, and changed their courses and behaved well. This conversation seemed to make Mrs. Linn feel somewhat more composed, but she was still very unhappy.

At length the time for the trial drew near. Rodolphus felt great solicitude and anxiety as the time approached. He did not know what evidence there was against him, for no one had been allowed to talk with him on the subject of the crime. Even Mr. Keep, his lawyer, did not know what the evidence was, for it is always customary in such cases, for each party to keep the evidence which they have to offer, as much as possible concealed. Antonio had, however, received a summons to appear as a witness, and Mr. Keep told him that if they insisted on examining him, he would be bound to answer all the questions which they put to him, honestly and truly, whatever his private feelings might be.

When the day arrived, Rodolphus was taken by the officer to the court room, and placed in the same chair where Antonio had sat. Antonio had looked around upon the proceedings with so frank and honest an expression of countenance, and with such an unconcerned air, that every one had been impressed with a belief of his innocence. Rodolphus, on the other hand, sat still, pale, and trembling, and he manifested in his whole air and demeanor every indication of conscious guilt.

The preliminary proceedings were all much the same as they had been in the case of Antonio. When these had been gone through, the judge called upon the county attorney to proceed. After a short opening speech he said, that his first witness was Mr. Kerber. Mr. Kerber was called, and took his place upon the stand.

Mr. Kerber first gave an account of the robbery, describing the situation of his office and of the two doors leading to it, and of the desk in the corner, and narrating all the circumstances relating to the appearance of his office on the Monday morning, and the discovery of the strong box under the ruins of the corn-barn. He then proceeded as follows:

"For a time I considered it certain that Antonio, the one who was first suspected, was the one really guilty, and made no effort or inquiry in any other direction until he was tried. I was convinced then that he was innocent, and immediately began to consider what I should do to find out the robber. I examined the hole again which had been bored into the door, and the marks of the tools by which the desk had been broken open. I thought that I might, perhaps, possibly find the tools that fitted these places somewhere about town, and that if I should, I might, possibly, in that way, get some clew to the robbers. So I borrowed the bits and the chisels of several of my neighbors, but I could not find any that would fit.

"At last I happened to think of some old tools that I had in a back room, and on comparing them I found two that fitted exactly. There was a bit which just fitted the hole, and there were some fibres of the wood which had been caught upon the edge of the bit, where it was dull, that looked fresh and compared well with the color of the wood of the door. There was a large chisel, too, that fitted exactly to the impressions made upon the wood of the desk, in prying it open.

"I could see, too, that some of these tools had recently been moved, by the dust having been disturbed around them. There were marks and tracks, too, in the dust, upon a bench, where some boy had evidently climbed up to get the tools. I tried one of Rodolphus's shoes to these tracks, and found that it fitted exactly."

While Mr. Kerber was making these statements, Rodolphus hung his head, and looked utterly confounded.

"Just about the time," continued Mr. Kerber, "that I made these discoveries, a person came to me and informed me – "

"Stop," interrupted Mr. Keep. "You are not to state what any other person informed you. You are only to state what you know personally, yourself."

Mr. Kerber was silent.

The county attorney, who knew well that this was the rule in all trials, said that he had nothing more to ask that witness then, but that he would withdraw him for a time. He then called Antonio. Antonio took his place upon the stand.

After the oath was administered as usual, the county attorney began to question Antonio as follows:

"Were you in Hiburgh on the night of this robbery?"

"I was," said Antonio.

"At what time did you arrive there?" asked the attorney.

"I believe it was a little past nine," said Antonio.

"Were you at the corn-barn when it took fire?"

"I was," said Antonio.

"State now to the jury what it was that led you to go there."

Antonio recollected that what first attracted his attention and led him to go out, was seeing Rodolphus and the other boys going by with their lantern, and hearing their suppressed voices; and he perceived that if he went any further in his testimony he should prove Rodolphus to be guilty; so he stopped, and after a moment's pause, he turned to the judge, and asked whether he could not be excused from giving any more testimony.

"On what ground do you wish to be excused?" said the judge.

"Why, what I should say," said Antonio, "might go against the boy, and I don't wish to say any thing against him."

"You can not be excused," said the judge, shaking his head. "It is very often painful to give testimony against persons accused of crime, but it is a duty which must be performed."

"But there is a special reason," said Antonio, "in this case."

"What is the reason?" said the judge.

Antonio hesitated. At length he said timidly,

"His sister saved my life."

Here there was a pause. The preferring such a request, to be excused from testifying, and for such a reason, is a very uncommon occurrence in a court. The judge, the jury, the lawyers, and all the spectators looked at Antonio, who stood upon the witness's stand all the time, turning his face toward the judge, awaiting his decision.

After a pause the judge said,

"Your unwillingness to do any thing to injure the brother of a girl who saved your life, does you honor, and I would gladly excuse you if I could, but it is not in my power. The ends of justice require that you should give your testimony, whatever the consequences may be."

"What would be done," asked Antonio, "if I should refuse to do so?"

"Then you would be sent to prison yourself," said the judge, "for contempt of court."

"And suppose I am willing to go to prison," said Antonio, "rather than testify against Ellen's brother; can I do so?"

The judge looked a little perplexed. What answer he would have given to this question we do not know, for he was prevented from answering it, by the county attorney, who here rose and said,

"May it please your honor, I will withdraw this witness for the present. I shall be glad to get along without his testimony, if possible, and perhaps I can."

Antonio then left the stand, very much relieved. Rodolphus wondered who would be called next. His heart sank within him, when he saw an officer who had gone out a moment before, come in and lead Gilpin to the witness-stand.

It is customary in almost all countries, whenever a crime is committed, and it is not possible to ascertain who committed it by any ordinary proofs, to allow any one of the accomplices who is disposed to do so, to come forward and inform against the rest, and then to exempt him from punishment in consideration of his so doing. It seems very base for one person to lead another into sin, or even to join him in it, and then to assist in bringing his accomplice to punishment, in order to escape it himself. But they who combine to commit crimes, must be expected to be base. Gilpin was so. There seemed to be nothing noble or generous in his nature. As soon as he found out that Rodolphus was suspected, he feared that Rodolphus would confess, and then that he should himself be seized. Accordingly, he went immediately to Mr. Kerber, and told him that he knew all about the robbery, and that he would tell all about it, if they would agree that he should not come to any harm.

This arrangement was finally made. They, however, seized Gilpin, and shut him up, so as to secure him for a witness, and he had been in prison ever since Rodolphus's arrest, though Rodolphus knew nothing about it. Christopher had run away the moment he heard of Rodolphus's arrest, and nothing had since been heard of him. Gilpin was now brought forward to give his testimony.

There was a great contrast in his appearance, as he came upon the stand, from that of Antonio. He looked guilty and ashamed, and he did not dare to turn his eyes toward Rodolphus at all. He could not go forward himself and tell a connected story, but he made all his statements in answer to questions put to him by the county attorney. He, however, in the end, told all. He explained how Rodolphus had first cut a hole in the partition, and then he narrated the conversation which the boys had held together behind the wall. He told about the tools, and the dark lantern, and the breaking in; also about going to the corn-barn, burying the box, and then of the accidental setting of the straw on fire, and of Antonio's suddenly coming in among them. In a word, the whole affair was brought completely to light. Mr. Keep questioned Gilpin afterward very closely, to see if he would contradict himself, and so prove that the story which he was telling, was not true; but he did not contradict himself, and finally he went away.

There were no witnesses to be offered in favor of Rodolphus, and very little to be said in his defense. When, at length, the trial was concluded, the jury conferred together a little in their seats, and then brought in a verdict of guilty.

The next day Rodolphus was sentenced to ten days' solitary confinement in the jail, and after that, to one year of hard labor in the state prison.

V. THE FLIGHT

Two or three days after Rodolphus's trial, Ellen, who had done every thing she could to cheer and comfort her mother in her sorrow, told her one morning that she desired to go and see her uncle Randon that day.

"Is it about Rodolphus?" asked her mother.

"Yes, mother," said Ellen.

"Well, you may go," said her mother; "but I don't think that any thing will do any good now."

After all her morning duties had been performed, about the house, Ellen put on her bonnet, and taking Annie by the hand, in order that she might lead her to school, she set out on the way to her uncle's. She left Annie at school as she passed through the village, and she arrived at her uncle's about ten o'clock.

Her uncle had been married again. His present wife was a very strong and healthy woman, who was almost all the time busily engaged about the farm work, but she was very fond of Ellen, and always glad to see her at the farm. When Ellen arrived at the farm, on this occasion, she went in at the porch door as usual. There was no one in the great room. She passed through into the back entry. From the back entry she went into the back room – the room where in old times she used to shut up her kitten.

This room was now used as a dairy. There was a long row of milk-pans in it, upon a bench. Mrs. Randon was there. She seemed very glad to see Ellen, and asked her to walk into the house.

Ellen said that she came to see her uncle. So her aunt went with her out into the yard where her uncle was at work; he was mending a harrow.

"Well, Ellen," said her uncle, "I am very glad to see you. But I am sorry to hear about poor Rodolphus."

"Yes," said Ellen, "but I have thought of one more plan. It's of no use to keep him from going to the state prison, even if we could, unless we can get a good place for him. Now what I wish is, that if we can get him free, you would let him come and live here with you. Perhaps you could make him a good boy."

Mr. Randon leaned upon the handle of his broad ax, and seemed to be at a loss what to say. He looked toward his wife.

"Yes," said she, "let him come. I should like to have him come very much. We can make him a good boy."

"Well," said Mr. Randon.

"Well!" said Ellen. Her eyes brightened up as she said this, and she turned to go away. Mr. and Mrs. Randon attempted to stop her, but she said that she could not stay then, and so she went away.

"She can not get him free," said Mr. Randon.

"I don't know," said his wife. "Perhaps she may. Such a girl as she can do a great deal when she tries."

Ellen went then as fast as she could go, to Mrs Henry's. She found Antonio in the garden.

"Antonio," said she, "my uncle Randon says that he will take Rodolphus and let him live there with him, on the farm, if we can only get him out of prison."

"But we can't get him out of prison," said Antonio. "It is too late now, he has been condemned and sentenced."

"But the governor can pardon him," said Ellen.

"Can he?" said Antonio.

"Yes," said Ellen.

"Can he?" repeated Antonio. "Then I'll go and see if he will."

Two days after this Antonio was on his way to the town where the governor lived. He met with various adventures on his way, and he felt great solicitude and doubt about the result of the journey. At last he arrived at the place.

He was directed to a large and handsome house, which stood in the centre of the principal street of the village, enveloped in trees and shrubbery. There was a beautiful yard, with a great gate leading to it, on one side of the house.

Antonio looked up this yard and saw an elderly gentleman there, just getting into a chaise. A person who seemed to be his hired man was holding the horse. The gentlemen stopped, with his foot upon the step of the chaise, when he saw Antonio coming, and looked toward him.

"Is this Governor Dummer?" said Antonio, as he came up.

"Yes," said the gentleman, "that is what they call me."

"I wanted to see you about some business," said Antonio, "but you are going away."

The governor looked at Antonio a moment, and, being pleased with his appearance, he said,

"Yes, I am going away, but not far. Get into the chaise with me, and we can talk as we ride."

So the governor got into the chaise.

Antonio followed him; the hired man let go of the horse's head, and Antonio and the governor rode together out of the yard.

Antonio was quite afraid at first, to find himself suddenly shut up so closely with a governor. He, however, soon recovered his self-possession, and began to give an account of Rodolphus' case. The governor listened very attentively to all he had to say. Then he asked Antonio a great many questions, some about Rodolphus' mother and sister, and also about Antonio himself. Finally he asked what it was proposed to do with Rodolphus, in case he should be pardoned and set at liberty. Antonio said that he was to go to his uncle's, which was an excellent place, and where he hoped that he would learn to be a good boy.

The governor seemed very much interested in the whole story. He, however, said that he could not, at that time, come to any conclusion in respect to the affair; he must make some further inquiries. He must see the record of the trial, and the other documentary evidence connected with the case. He would attend to it immediately, he said, and write to Mr. Keep in respect to the result.

About a week after this, Mr. Keep sent for Antonio to come and see him. Antonio went.

"Well, Antonio," said Mr. Keep, as Antonio entered his office, "Rodolphus is pardoned. I I should like to have you ask Mrs. Henry if she will let you go to-morrow, and bring him home. If she says that you may go, call here on your way, and I will give you some money to pay the expenses of the journey."

Early the next morning, Antonio called at Mr. Keep's office, on his way after Rodolphus. Mr. Keep gave him some money. Antonio received it, for he thought it would not be proper to decline it. He had, however, plenty of his own. He had already put in his pocket six half dollars which he had taken from his chest that morning. Mr. Keep gave him a bank bill. He put this bill into his waistcoat pocket and pinned it in.

He then proceeded on his journey. In due time he arrived at the place where Rodolphus was imprisoned. The pardon had already arrived, and the jailer was ready to deliver up Rodolphus to his friends. He told Antonio that he was very glad that he had come to take the boy away. He did not like, he said, to lock up children.

Antonio took Rodolphus in his wagon, and they drove away. It was late in the afternoon when they set out, but though Antonio did not expect to get to Franconia that night, he was anxious to proceed as far as he could. He intended to stop that night at a tavern in a large town, and get home, if possible, the next day. They arrived at the tavern safely. They took supper; and after supper, being tired, they went to bed. Antonio had done all that he could to make Rodolphus feel at his ease and happy, during the day, having said nothing at all to him about his bad conduct. He had talked to him about his uncle, and about his going there to live, and other pleasant subjects. Still Rodolphus seemed silent and sober, and after supper he seemed glad to go to bed.

The two boys slept in two rooms which opened into each other. Antonio proposed to have the door open, between these rooms, but Rodolphus seemed to wish to have it shut. Antonio made no objection to this, but at last, when he was ready to go to bed, he opened the door a little to say good-night to Rodolphus. Rodolphus, he saw, when he opened the door, was sitting at a little table, writing upon a piece of paper, with a pencil. Antonio bade him good-night and shut the door again.

"I hope he is writing to his mother," said Antonio to himself, "to confess his faults and promise to be a good boy."

The next morning Antonio rose pretty early, but he moved softly about the room, so as not to disturb Rodolphus, who he supposed was asleep, as his room was still. Antonio went down and ordered breakfast, and attended to his horses, and by-and-by he came up again to see if Rodolphus had got up. He listened at the door, and all was still. He then opened the door gently and looked in. There was nobody there, and to Antonio's great surprise, the bed was smooth and full, as if had not been disturbed.

Antonio went in. He saw a paper lying on the table with his own name on the outside of it. He took this paper up, and found that it was in Rodolphus's handwriting. It was half in written, and half in printed characters, and very badly spelled. The substance of it was this.

"Antonio,

"I am sorry to go off and leave you, but I must. I should be glad to go and live at my uncle's, but I can't. Don't try to find out where I have gone. Give my love to my mother and to Ellen. I had not any money, and so I had to take your half dollars out of your pocket. If I ever can, I shall pay you.

"Rodolphus.

"P.S. It's no use in me trying to be a good boy."

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