THE murderer had been taken to the county jail to await his trial. In the meantime, suspicion was aroused that the prisoner was George Steele, but he steadily denied it, and insisted that he was John Pogue. The rumor coming to Mary’s ears, she at once feared that it might be true; and to relieve her mind of the dreadful suspense, she resolved to know the worst, and hence obtained permission to enter his cell. When the door was opened, there, in chains, sat George! Although she had felt that it would be so, she was nevertheless shocked at the sight before her. He tried to evade[153] the recognition, but his heart failed; ungovernable emotions unmanned him, and he wept like a child.
“George, my brother, my dear brother, how could you do that thing?” she exclaimed, and her whole frame shook as she spoke. After a while she became more calm and asked the keeper to allow her to be alone with her brother for a short time; he consented, and she sat down on the bed, close beside her brother, as she did years ago, when they played under the elm-tree at their dear old home. He told her all—“But,” said he, “I was in liquor, and a fiend seemed to drive me to the awful deed! I was not to blame so much; I did not use to be so, did I, Mary?”
“No, George,” she gently replied, “you were once a good boy;” and then, after hesitating a moment, she said, “do you pray now, brother?”
He looked at her in a dreamy way, and[154] said, “I pray! I cannot pray!” then his eye kindled, and he continued, “I am not to blame; when you and I wanted to be good father would not let us, but taught us that Sabbath-breaking, swearing, dancing and drinking were only amusements that everybody should enjoy; and we soon learned to like these things, Mary—and where am I now?” She leaned her head upon her hands and sighed; then rousing herself, said hopefully, “It is not too late yet, George; God has been merciful to me, and has pardoned all my sins; if you repent as I did, He will not cast you off; but you must pray, George, with all your heart.”
Looking into her eyes, he replied by saying, “You pray for me, Mary.” Kneeling down, she brought her poor, sinful brother’s case before the Mercy-seat; but there was no godly sorrow for sin in his heart—the fear of death made him wish for prayers. Had he been at liberty, he would have been as bad[155] as ever; and no wonder pardon was not granted. After Mary rose from her knees, she had some further conversation with her brother, and then took leave of him with a heavy heart. This was their last meeting. The time for George’s trial arrived; the court-room was crowded with curious and idle spectators; the prisoner was brought forward to answer the charge of murder; he pleaded “Not guilty.” A plea of insanity was set up by his counsel, and an artful defense made for him; but the case was clear, and the testimony against him ............