"We will stand by him, as he himself stood by the two poor creatures who are gone."
He meant Mr. Gridley and the boy, to both of whom Mr. George had given shelter.
Mr. Woodcourt then told us that the trooper's man had been with him before day, after wandering about the streets all night like a distracted creature.
That one of the trooper's first anxieties was that we should not suppose him guilty.
That he had charged his messenger to represent his perfect innocence with every solemn assurance be could send us.
That Mr. Woodcourt had only quieted the man by undertaking to come to our house very early in the morning with these representations.
He added that he was now upon his way to see the prisoner himself.
My guardian said directly he would go too.
Now, besides that I liked the retired soldier very much and that he liked me, I had that secret interest in what had happened which was only known to my guardian.
I felt as if it came close and near to me.
It seemed to become personally important to myself that the truth should be discovered and that no innocent people should be suspected, for suspicion, once run wild, might run wilder.
In a word, I felt as if it were my duty and obligation to go with them.
My guardian did not seek to dissuade me, and I went.
It was a large prison with many courts and passages so like one another and so uniformly paved that I seemed to gain a new comprehension, as I passed along, of the fondness that solitary prisoners, shut up among the same staring walls from year to year, have had--as I have read--for a weed or a stray blade of grass.
In an arched room by himself, like a cellar upstairs, with walls so glaringly white that they made the massive iron window-bars and iron-bound door even more profoundly black than they were, we found the trooper standing in a corner.
He had been sitting on a bench there and had risen when he heard the locks and bolts turn.
When he saw us, he came forward a step with his usual heavy tread, and there stopped and made a slight bow.
But as I still advanced, putting out my hand to him, he understood us in a moment.
"This is a load off my mind, I do assure you, miss and gentlemen," said he, saluting us with great heartiness and drawing a long breath.
"And now I don't so much care how it ends."
He scarcely seemed to be the prisoner.
What with his coolness and his soldierly bearing, he looked far more like the prison guard.
"This is even a rougher place than my gallery to receive a lady in," said Mr. George, "but I know Miss Summerson will make the best of it."
As he handed me to the bench on which he had been sitting, I sat down, which seemed to give him great satisfaction.
"I thank you, miss," said he.
"Now, George," observed my guardian, "as we require no new assurances on your part, so I believe we need give you none on ours."
"Not at all, sir.
I thank you with all my heart.
If I was not innocent of this crime, I couldn't look at you and keep my secret to myself under the condescension of the present visit.
I feel the present visit very much.
I am not one of the eloquent sort, but I feel it, Miss Summerson and gentlemen, deeply."
He laid his hand for a moment on his broad chest and bent his head to us.
Although he squared himself again directly, he expressed a great amount of natural emotion by these simple means.
"First," said my guardian, "can we do anything for your personal comfort, George?"
"For which, sir?" he inquired, clearing his throat.
"For your personal comfort.
Is there anything you want that would lessen the hardship of this confinement?"
"Well, sir," replied George, after a little cogitation, "I am equally obliged to you, but tobacco being against the rules, I can't say that there is."
"You will think of many little things perhaps, by and by.
Whenever you do, George, let us know."
"Thank you, sir. Howsoever," observed Mr. George with one of his sunburnt smiles, "a man who has been knocking about the world in a vagabond kind of a way as long as I have gets on well enough in a place like the present, so far as that goes."
"Next, as to your case," observed my guardian.
"Exactly so, sir," returned Mr. George, folding his arms upon his breast with perfect self-possession and a little curiosity.
"How does it stand now?"
"Why, sir, it is under remand at present.
Bucket gives me to understand that he will probably apply for a series of remands from time to time until the case is more complete.
How it is to be made more complete I don't myself see, but I dare say Bucket will manage it somehow."
"Why, heaven save us, man," exclaimed my guardian, surprised into his old oddity and vehemence, "you talk of yourself as if you were somebody else!"
"No offence, sir," said Mr. George.
"I am very sensible of your kindness.