“‘But my family want me,’ said the cobbler; ’they can’t do without me at home. Can’t you let me go, Mr. Packum?’
“‘Not I,’ said the sheriff; ‘that’s no part of my privilege: you must ask the court, Mr. Peg.’
“‘Yes, to-morrow; but I tell you beforehand it won’t do any good. What excuse can you make?’
“‘My family want my care,’ said the poor cobbler.
“‘So does every man’s family,’ said the sheriff, with a laugh; ‘he’s a happy man that don’t find it so. You haven’t much of a family, Mr. Peg, have you?—if you had my seven daughters to look after—— Well, Mr. Jibbs,—shall we go?’
“They went; and sitting down again in his chair the poor cobbler neglected his work, and bent over it with his head in his hand. At length he got up, put his work away, and left the room. For a while his saw might be heard going at the back of the house; then it ceased, and nothing at all was to be heard for a long time; only a light footstep overhead now and then. The afternoon passed, and the evening came.
“The cobbler was the first to make his appearance. He came in, lighted the fire which had quite died out, and sat down as he had sat before, with his head in his hand. So his little daughter found him. She stepped lightly and he did not hear her till her hand was on his shoulder. Then she asked him what was the matter?
“‘Oh!—nothing that should make me sit so,’ said the cobbler, rousing himself.
“‘We’ve got more fish left yet,’ said Sue.
“‘Yes, dear,—’tisn’t that; but I’ve got to go away to-morrow.’
“‘Why, they’ve got me down for a juryman, and I’m afraid there’ll be no getting off. The sheriff says there won’t.’
“‘Sit on a jury, dear, to decide whether Simon Ruffin is guilty or no.’
“‘Simon Ruffin!—that shot that man!—Oh, father!’
“‘I can’t tell at all,’ said the cobbler; ‘maybe a day—a day! they can’t take the evidence in two days. I don’t know whether it will be two or three days, or a week, dear.’
“‘A week—And what shall we do?’ Sue could not help saying.
“‘If I can get off, I will,’ said the cobbler; ‘but in case I can’t, I have or I will have by morning, as much wood as will do till I come back. I have two-and-sixpence besides, which I can leave you, darling; and I can do nothing more but trust.’
“‘Father, isn’t it hard to trust sometimes?’ Sue said with her eyes full of tears. The poor cobbler wrapped her in his arms and kissed them away, but he did not try to answer.