Martin Stapleton stood, with his eyes earnestly fixed on Saul, for nearly a minute after the latter had finished his story of the death of Philip Govier; his faculties were benumbed by what he had heard; and he probably would have remained much longer motionless and speechless, had not Saul seized him with both hands, and given him two or three violent shakes. “Come, come,” said he, “doan't go to sleep like a horse, standing up!--This bean't a time for dozing!--Odd! if I'd a' got poor Bob here, I should ha' been vree half an hour ago. He'd ha' zet vire to the house, and come and ha' pulled me out o' the vlames, by this time, if he couldn't gi'e me my liberty any other way.” “And yet, _you_, Saul,” said Martin reproachfully, “you scruple not to sacrifice him to save yourself.” “What be that to thee?--He'd do as I tell'ee, because I be his vather--that is, he thinks zo. I ha' done what I did do, because he yean't my zon;--but _thee_ bee'st, Martin--_thee_ bee'st--and thee knows it;--thy heart tells thee I ha'n't been lying to thee:--thee'rt my zon,--and I do expect that thou'lt do thy duty; thou canst do't, and no harm come to thee. Bob would risk all vor me, though I ha'n't been the best o' vathers to un.” “What would you have me do?” asked Martin, rather petulantly. “How shall I act?--What do you wish of me?” “Just to let I get t'other zide o' these walls,” replied Saul; “I doan't care how;--I leave that to you;--choose your own way; it doan't much matter to I,--doan't'ee zee?--zo as I gets out Why, you'd a' married Peggy, if zo be as I'd ha' let'ee--wouldn't 'ee, now?--in spite ov old Ztapleton, and the whole vlock of your ztiff-backed aunts--wouldn't'ee, now? answer me that!” “I should--I should:--but mention it no more; you make my blood curdle.” “Well, then,” pursued Saul, heedless of the passionate request of Martin; “you zee, I'd no vear ov your seducing the girl; and you can't think I should ha' put up a gate against my daughter's being a young'zquire's wife--if that young'zquire weren't what he were.” “Talk to me no more on this subject:--I will--I do believe all you have said; only, I beseech you, don't--don't dwell on this,” exclaimed Martin, wiping large drops of “the dew of mental anguish” from his brow. “Well, well, Martin! cheer up, lad,” said Saul, fondling the youth; “cheer up, and I won't:--but, I zay, how shall we act?” “Oh! I know not--In assisting you to escape I become an accessary to Robert's death;--and if I refuse--” “You do hang your vather,” interrupted Braintree; “an awkward place vor a body to stand in, Martin;--but blood's thicker than water;--I be your vather, and he yean't even one o' your kin. I won't dreaten'ee wi' blabbing and telling who you be, on my trial.” “I care not, Saul, if you did.” “I know,--I know;--but I doan't dreaten 'ee wi't, doan't'ee mind?--Keep znug, and be a'zquire.” “Indeed, I shall not. I will tell the whole story to-morrow; and if I can save poor Robert--”