 the result of Mr. Bridgnorth's
interview that morning with Jem.
    »Why, yes,« said Mr. Bridgnorth, putting down his pen, »I have seen him, but
to little purpose, I'm afraid. He's very impracticable - very. I told him, of
course, that he must be perfectly open with me, or else I could not be prepared
for the weak points. I named your name with the view of unlocking his
confidence, but -«
    »What did he say?« asked Job breathlessly.
    »Why, very little. He barely answered me. Indeed, he refused to answer some
questions - positively refused. I don't know what I can do for him.«
    »Then you think him guilty, sir,« said Job despondingly.
    »No, I don't,« replied Mr. Bridgnorth, quickly and decisively. »Much less
than I did before I saw him. The impression (mind, 'tis only impression; I rely
upon your caution, not to take it for fact) - the impression,« with an emphasis
on the word, »he gave me is, that he knows something about the affair, but what,
he will not say; and so, the chances are, if he persists in his obstinacy, he'll
be hung. That's all.«
    He began to write again, for he had no time to lose.
    »But he must not be hung,« said Job with vehemence.
    Mr. Bridgnorth looked up, smiled a little, but shook his head.
    »What did he say, sir, if I may be so bold as to ask?« continued Job.
    »His words were few enough, and he was so reserved and short, that, as I
said before, I can only give you the impression they conveyed to me. I told him,
of course, who I was, and for what I was sent. He looked pleased, I thought - at
least his face (sad enough when I went in, I assure ye) brightened a little; but
he said he had nothing to say, no defence to make. I asked him if he was guilty,
then; and, by way of opening his heart, I said I understood he had had
provocation enough, inasmuch as I heard that the girl was very lovely, and had
jilted him to fall desperately in love with that handsome young Carson (poor
fellow)! But James Wilson did not speak one way or another. I then
