“Excuse me, friend,” observed the supervisor; “I am a stranger to you; but, in my opinion, that is,--speaking candidly,--I'm sorry to say--remember I've no ill-will toward your son--nor, understand me, do I wish to bear on a bruised reed; but its folly to buoy a man up with false hopes;--the case is, if what I've heard be true, most decisive against the young man.” “And what have'ee heard, old gentleman?--what have'ee heard, zir?” “That, Saul,”--said the exciseman, “that, it is--needless to repeat;--but the shoe-marks,--Saul--” “Well, and what o' them?” interrupted Braintree; “mightn't my zon ha' gone that way avore Govier were killed? or mightn't he ha' vound un dead, and come whoam straight, intending to tell the news az zoon az he axed I how a' should act?” “True, Zaul, true,” replied Salter, who had not yet departed; “it do zeem ztrange that no vootsteps were vound in the snow 'proaching towards the zpot.” “I can easily account for that, I think,” said the supervisor, with a smile of self-complacency: “the snow--” “But hark to this,” cried Saul, again interrupting the old man; “hark to this:--how be we to know, that they what zaid they vound the body wer'n't the criminals, eh?” “Lord bless us and zave us, Zaul!” exclaimed the little tailor, starting up; “Bless us, Zaul! why, 'twere I, good now, what raised the hue and cry. I were coming vrom varmer Butt's, vive mile off, where I a' been dree days at work, making a coat; I'd a' started avore 'twere day, zo as to get to work about Jack Blake's new suit, what he's a going to be married in o' Zinday;--and zharp doings it will be to vinish it as'tis:--zo I took the path through the copse, because it zaves a mile, you do know; and anan, my little dog, rin into the hazels and back again in a minute, barking as iv he'd a' zeen a ghost I were a bit vrightened, you may judge, vor I'd a' got my zilver watch, and half-a-crown, (my dree days' wages,) wi' ten shillings bezides, what the varmer had paid me vor a pig he bought o' me last Zinday vort-night, when he comed over to church. Well, and anan, my little dog, rin into the copse again, and come back growling worse nor avore. Thirdly and lastly, I patted the back o' un, and away he rin again, and when he overtook me,--d'ye mind?--by the light'o the moon, I zeed there were blood upon the nose o' un!--Wi' that, I and the dog rin vit to break our necks,'till we got whoam. Zo then I raised the hue and cry, and Phil's body were vound:--but I had no more hand in the death o' un than you, Zaul. I can handle a reap-hook, or a needle, wi' one here and there, but I never vired a gun off in my life--wish I may die if I did!” “Well, well, Mudford,” said Braintree, advancing toward the tailor; “I didn't know 'twere thee; gi'e us thy hand;--there--we be vriends, bean't us?” “I do hope zo, Zaul Braintree,” replied the still terrified tailor; “but you shouldn't--”