Clara Haylark was Dame Worthington’s chief comforter, for she was always consulting with the old lady regarding everything that might alleviate the sufferings of “poor Charles,” and that would add to his comfort. On several occasions Clara became so enthusiastic in regard to Charley that, with her head all shaking with curls, and tears in her eyes, she openly avowed her love for the young man, and averred that “she never would marry in her whole life without it was with him.” This so much pleased the old lady that she caressed the young woman, and sat with Clara’s head in her lap for more than an hour without uttering a word. As the Criminal Court trials approached the visits of Sir Richard Warbeck, Dame Worthington and Miss Clara (unknown to her mother) became more frequent. Yet, despite all their endeavours, Charles persisted in refusing the aid of all legal talent, saying— “I have avowed my guilt. No one is responsible but myself, and I am willing to suffer the utmost penalty of the law.” When his day of trial came on there was a considerable muster of India House clerks and others in court, who, because he was unfortunate, were loud in their denunciation of the prisoner. Dame Worthington, Mistress Haylark and Clara were present also, and as Charley, good looking and gallant in bearing, stood in the dock and pleaded “guilty” to the charge preferred, Clara and the old dame gave vent to their tears copiously, and fainted. As the India House had been reimbursed “by some unknown individual” for the sum lost, the directors refused to prosecute, out of respect to old Sir Richard, who, it was well known, entertained great love for the accused. Charley’s penalty was not so great as many expected. Previous to his present fault, he had borne an irreproachable character, which tended much to lighten his sentence. He was condemned to two years’ imprisonment with hard labour. Had it not been through much influence at Court, and the blazing report of Wildfire Ned’s glorious deeds, he would have suffered death. When returned to his cell, he was visited by a few friends, who congratulated him on his escape from a heavier penalty, and among the visitors was Phillip Redgill, Esq. “I don’t like to see you in gaol, my boy,” was Phillip’s first remark. “I’m supposed to know nothing of your transgression; but I must acknowledge you _were_ a fool, a _big_ fool, for confessing it. If you’d only kept your tongue still you would never have been found out. Good-bye, old fellow; I hope to see you out again one of these days. We must _all_ pay for our experience, you know. I jeopardise my position in society by visiting you here, you know, but for old old acquaintance sake I thought I’d call.” “Thank you,” was Charley’s laconic reply, as Phillip left the prison. “If the truth were only known we might exchange places, perhaps.” CHAPTER XX. PHILLIP PROGRESSES IN LOVE—HIS FURTHER SCHEMING.