"Will has sailed this
morning, for sure; but that brave wench, Mary Barton, is after him,
and will bring him back, I'll be bound, if she can but get speech on
him. She's not back yet. Come, come, hold up thy head. It will
all end right."
"It will all end right," echoed she; "but not as thou tak'st it.
Jem will be hung, and will go to his father and the little lads,
where the Lord God wipes away all tears, and where the Lord Jesus
speaks kindly to the little ones, who look about for the mothers
they left upon earth. Eh, Job, yon's a blessed land, and I long to
go to it, and yet I fret because Jem is hastening there. I would
not fret if he and I could lie down to-night to sleep our last
sleep; not a bit would I fret if folk would but know him to be
innocent--as I do."
"They'll know it sooner or later, and repent sore if they've hanged
him for what he never did," replied Job.
"Ay, that they will. Poor souls! May God have mercy on them when
they find out their mistake."
Presently Job grew tired of sitting waiting, and got up, and hung
about the door and window, like some animal wanting to go out.
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