“It must needs be that offenses come, but woe onto that man by whom they come.” She was at once filled with pity for the man who could side with the wrong, and want everything his own way, for, sooner or later, confusion must be his portion; the Lord had said: “There is nothing covered that shall not be revealed, neither hid that shall not be known.” “He needs to be shamed,” she said, “but he is thy child; care for him, too.” George felt that he had not borne a dignified part, and knew that his last chance with Alexa was gone. Then he too felt the situation unendurable, and set about removing his property. He wrote to Alexa that he could no longer doubt it her wish to be rid of the collection, and able to use the room. It was desirable also, he said, that a thorough search should be made in those rooms before he placed the matter of the missing cup in the hands of the magistrates. Dawtie's last words had sufficed to remove any lingering doubt as to what had become of the chalice. It did not occur to him that one so anxious to do the justice of restoration would hardly be capable of telling lies, of defiling her soul that a bit of property might be recovered; he took it for granted that she meant to be liberally rewarded by the earl. George would have ill understood the distinction Dawtie made--that the body of the cup _might_ belong to him, but the soul of the cup _did_ belong to another; or her assertion that where the soul was there the body ought to be; or her argument that He who had the soul had the right to ransom the body--a reasoning possible to a child-like nature only; she had pondered to find the true law of the case, and this was her conclusion. George suspected, and grew convinced that Alexa was a party to the abstraction of the cup. She had, he said, begun to share in the extravagant notions of a group of pietists whose leader was that detestable fellow, Ingram. Alexa was attached to Dawtie, and Dawtie was one of them. He believed Alexa would do anything to spite him. To bring trouble on Dawtie would be to punish her mistress, and the pious farmer, too. CHAPTER XXXI. THE PROSECUTION. As soon as Crawford had his things away from Potlurg, satisfied the cup was nowhere among them, he made a statement of the case to a magistrate he knew; and so represented it, as the outcome of the hypocrisy of pietism, that the magistrate, hating everything called fanatical, at once granted him a warrant to apprehend Dawtie on the charge of theft. It was a terrible shock. Alexa cried out with indignation. Dawtie turned white and then red, but uttered never a word. “Dawtie,” said her mistress, “tell me what you know about the cup. You do know something that you have not told me!” “I do, ma'am, but I will not tell it except I am forced.” “That you are going to be, my poor girl! I am very sorry, for I am perfectly sure you have done nothing you know to be wrong!” “I have done nothing you or anybody would think wrong, ma'am.”