"--was a gentleman compared to me."
"--was a gentleman compared to me."
"I am an unjust judge, a scoundrel at heart, a mean, contemptible
coward, unfit to consort with honest men, and every pure, good woman
should spurn me like dirt. Say it! Louder! The lady should be interested
in your confession."
Marriott said the words, raising his voice as he was ordered.
"And I pray to Heaven to have pity on the soul of the man I sent to his
death at Tyburn. Say it aloud, with uplifted hands. It is a prayer you
may well make, for, God knows, you'll have need of all His mercy some
day."
The prayer was repeated, and so like a real prayer was it that, in the
darkness of the coach, Barbara smiled. Prayer and Judge Marriott seemed
so wide asunder.
"Now get back into the coach, and take care your muddy clothes do not
soil the lady's gown, as your presence could hardly fail to be
pestilential to her, did she but know you as you really are. Good-night,
fair mistress; some day I hope to see you under better escort."
For a moment he bowed low over his horse's neck, then he turned and
galloped straight across the heath.
Judge Marriott had entered the coach hurriedly, so glad to escape from
the highwayman that he did not consider how poor a figure he had cut in
the sight of the girl.
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