THE UNJUST JUDGMENT.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume I, Issue 45, 11 November 1867, Page 4

THE UNJUST JUDGMENT.

CHAPTER 11. But they met again that same evening. John returned home from his search for employment—-not a fruitless one this time, tor ho waspvomised an engagement the following week; and now he sat hy the iire in that little cottage with a beaming face of hope, as he gazed on his Jenny and Wr sleeping boy on her lap. The old v.oman who had given them shelter too was there, and John was laughingly telling them about the stupidity of the man with the gun, adding as he did so—- “ But he wur sharp enuff to pocket the rabbit for all that.” “ Tara glad he, did,” said Jenny, “it war bettor so:.it waru’tvourn, you know, John, dear.” Well, may be it wur as well. But I hopes as how it he an old un to 'try his teeth.” Thsr laughed cheerfully at this sally.' Hist!” cried Jenny, stopping suddenly, “ some one raps at the door.” “ Gome in said John, without rising ; it was only latched. “Does one John Hughes live here?” asked a man looking in. “ I’m your man i ” answered John, advancing. “ You are,” was the reply, “ and my prisoner too; I charge you with poaching.” As he spoke the man entered the room and approaching John, laid a heavy hand on his arm. “Come, hands off!” exclaimed the amazed man, pushing him hack. “ "Who dares call me by that name ? I he a honest fellow if poor.” “ Come, there’s no use resisting,” continued the constable, seizing him by the collar. “I’ve help outside.; I charge vou with shooting game on Lord BattleWs estate this morning. We’ve been watching you on suspicion some time and now we have you.” Jenny and the old woman -stood speechless and aghast, staringin terror at the two men. When, however, the former saw the man preparing to drag away her husband she sprang forward; and the babe strained to her breast with one arm, with the other she grasped her husband's. “Bor the dear Lord’s sake, John,” she articulated, in terror,•“doant’e go; tell him how it happened. Oh! dear , sir.” she continued, turning to the man “John didn’t mean no barm; he wudn’t kill or take anything that warn’t his onto uts, for tlie Lord’s sake, doant take him to prison.” “It ha all a mistake, Jenny,” John raid, gently; “ there, doant’s take on so, lass. I’ll tell them how it all happened; all in joke, an nothing more.” “Just has you say,” laughed the constable, sco Singly; “those sort o’things, like hreakin’into houses, an’ the like, Tkj all mistakes, aint they ?” “ Ta’nt for you I says it,” answered John, doggedly, “ but for your betters, •and this poor wench here; I knows you, Bill Snips, an’ you knows me, an’ I doant say that I beant the honester man the two, tiio’ I doant go to all the psalm-singing matches up at the bailiff’s, list to currv iavouri” A dark look of malevolent hatred shot from the constable’s eye as be scowled upon the sr. eaker.

“ Come along,” he said, sullenly, “ and come quietly, or twill he the worse for you;’’and he attempted to collar the other. “ Leave go that work,” cried. John, swinging himself away from his grasp. “ I aint afraid to go—l’ll soon make all right an’ clear with the geuelman.” A few words of firm assurance to poor, Jenny, and away went John, light of heart, and full of faith in the certainty of making all right. What had he to fear? he was innooent.-andnextweek he would ha#e work to make a home for Jenny.' It is hot all ways our innocence we can rely upon for safety; we must recollect that in' this world the evil one often triumphs ; and as a more positive fact, that just ice in the country depends much upon favouritism, squirearchy, and clique. chapter in. Next morning John Hughes was brought up before a self-styled “bench” of local magistrates, of which bench the Rev. Mr Brand was chairman. Before those worthies, the unfortunate prisoner was arraigned, and positively denied anything like poaching. “ Had he not been out shooting with a gun?” “ Yes,” and he detailed all the circumstances of that walk, but denied even the .idea of poaching. Here a witness was called, and John’s upright heart turned sick as he beheld the diminutive dark man who had lured him •“ to teacli him how-to shoot sparrows” stand forth an accuse him of poaching—of shooting a pheasant—killing a | rabbit. John again somely averred -that when he aimed at the pheasant he could have shot it if he had pleased; he only did it to show the other how to shoulder a gun The -rabbit he had not considered any more game than a sparrow, and in proof of no bad intention on his part, never even asked the other for it. Here a gentleman present, a solicitor, started-up, and in a voice trembling with abhorrence of this “packed” business, asked why the other man, the more guilty one, was not tried ? Poor simple being ! could he not see that the whole was an affair of “ religious hate”—to cleanse that pure spot of a reprobate ? The diminutive man whose name was withheld by his protectors, had been brought to that parish and ■village by the “ exemplary ” and “reverend” chairman to lead a starving man into temptation and sin, because the pious eyes of the “sat” could not bear to look upon him. What availed any justice or conscientious feeling to a body of men united to do a bad deed ? One single honest -voice was indeed thrown away among them, and John Hughes, to the shame of all concerned—but especially of a minister of the gospel—was sentenced 'to three months’ hard labor.

One look he. gave; it was of .gratitude and he touched his hat to the just and merciful man who, possibly to his own worldly injury, had raised Ins voice to defend’him, 'Then he sought for the suppositious poor one, like himself seeking work, who had tempted him and for what—the price of liberty, the blood money of the informer—but the wretch had skulked away. Worse even than the first Judas, he had not gone in remorse, despair, and sorrow to hang himself; no, he would still probably fatten on misfortune, until the law should drag him within its depths, or the hangman claim him as his prey. So the parish might now religiously rejoice—it had cleared its pure atmosphere of the pestilential breath of this reprobate. We should much like to know whether the Reverend Mr Brand, on the following Sunday, clearly, impressively, and from his heart, repeated our Lord’s Prayer! What meed is there to inquire how Jenny bore it ? We have seen her seated on her pile oTbricks starving and weeping over her child, we have seen her steal forth to beg—scouted—threatened—bewildered and despairing, as she crawled up on the parapet of the bridge and dropped into the sullen water. We have left John Hughes seated, too, as she had been, watching upwards for her return, down that dingy lane or passage —released from prison, avoided by all, sent forth with the han upon him to beg, to starve, or steal. There is no other alternative for the man east on the world with a tarnished reputation—a “prison bird,” as such a one is familiarly termed. Who will take a convicted felon by the hand, and trust him ? Heavy indeed will be the punishment of those who have first led a man into the temptation to commit a crime, and then accused and imprisoned him for it! As surely as there-exists a heaven above us, as certainly will they be responsible for all that man may commit—his faults will he their sins. John Hughes sat some time longer, eagerly and anxiously watching upwards into that gloomy street, until one by one the noises died away, and even the squalid children at the door had each retired to its miserable home. Then the wretched man could bear it no longer, and hastily quitting that icy cellar, lie mounted the stairs, strode down the passage, and into the street. On he wandered, inquiring of all he met whether such a woman as Jenny had

been seen. Some answered in a surly manner, others passed by in contemptuous silence before that fagged man, who had only lost one wretched as himself) • and a starveling child ? At length something like a clue wasobtained! The police had urged her forward—she was begging, ’They thought she might probably be,found in the station-house. Even that cruel idea cheered John, as he shivered along, better there, than in the hitter streets beneath that biting east wind. Alas ! she was in a much colder place! At-that moment the half-frozen waters were closing over her beneath the bridge. Cheered by the hope held out to him, John bunded off to'the nearest policestation. “ No—no such woman was there!” On again, and so on all that wretched night As if some instinct impelled him he ever found himself retiring towards one point. He thought it w r as because the policeman had seen such a woman and child about there:; but it was something beyond that mere suspicion, ’turns a conviction that she was thereabouts, ’twas the instinct of the hound, tracking its game, for we do not know half the hidden resources of our nature. More than once that night he returned home, and entering the ever open halldoor, stole down to the cellar—vacant! all cold and vacant! Thenhe returned to the street, and recommenced the same hopeless search over the same track. “ She mun be housed somewheres! ” he said to himself. u Jenny wmdn’t leave I so long in grief! ” The cold morning came; the change from night to morning air made it seem colder, and the miserable man’s teeth chattered in his head, as he sat upon a door-step, almost unable to rise from cramp and chill.

TO BE CONTINUED,