Part 64 (1/2)
”Having got into a bad streak, Jack, you must expect it to stick to you for a time. I did think as how you'd lost it when you come home with all that gold. But, you see, I was right at first; you're in it yet. There's no cure but to bear it. An' that you will, lad, like the man you are.”
”We've come to cheer you up, Jack,” said Sartoris, ”an' I hope we've done it. But there's one thing that I believe is usual in these cases, an' that's a sky-pilot. I have heard as how a sky-pilot's more comfortin' to a man in gaol than anything else. What's your special brand? What kind do you fancy? I'm ashamed to say we've talked so little religion, Jack, that I don't know what religious crew you signed on with when you was young, but if there's any special breed o' parson you fancy, you've only got to give him a name, and if he lives in this town or within a radius of ten miles, he shall come an' minister to you reg'lar, or I'll know the reason why.”
During this remarkable speech, Rose had quietly slipped out of the cell and, with her empty basket on her arm, had turned her steps homeward.
On rounding a corner of a street in the centre of the town, she almost ran into Rachel Varnhagen.
”Well, well, well, where have you been?” was the Jewess's greeting, as she stopped to talk to Rose.
”I've been to the gaol.”
”To the gaol! Goodness, what for?”
Rose did not reply.
”I do believe you've been to see that contemptible murderer.”
”If you mean a friend of mine, who was also a friend of yours who did you a great service, I beg you to stop.”
”I mean that man Scarlett.”
”And so do I.”
”What! you've been speaking to _him_? You must be mad. The man's a murderer. It's awful!”
”You shouldn't judge him before he has been tried.”
”The evidence is the same now as it will be then. There was a nugget of a strange shape, which a digger sold to poor Isaac Zahn, and it was found on your precious Scarlett when he was arrested.”
Rose made no answer.
”And to think,” Rachel continued, ”that I was almost engaged to him.”
”I never heard that,” said Rose, coldly.
”My dear, I'm thankful to say n.o.body did, but he used to come regularly to our house when he was in town, and my stupid old father used to encourage him. Such an escape I never had. Fancy being married to a murderer. Ugh!”
”There's no need to fancy anything of the sort. You couldn't have married him till he asked you.”
”But, dear, if he _had_, I should have accepted him. You know, he is so handsome. And he is awfully rich. My father wouldn't have heard of my refusing him. Certainly, he's not of our religion, but then we're not very orthodox. I'm afraid I should have accepted him: I'm sure I should.
And then, think of poor Isaac. I really _was_ fond of him. I know it now; but he was _so_ slow in making money--I couldn't waste all my life in waiting.”
”You must feel his death dreadfully,” said Rose.
”But it doesn't comfort me very much, when my friends go to see his murderer.”
”I haven't been to see a murderer.”