... Some of you may not know all
that happened that night. You do know of the cowardly attack made
upon the helpless girl. You know of the flight of the terrified man,
of how he was found dead two days later three miles from the village,
in a lonely spot where he had perished from hunger and exposure....
The body was discovered by James Dodge, with the aid of his dog. With
him on that occasion was a detective from Boston, employed by Miss
Bolton, and myself. There was a sum of money found on the body
amounting to something over five thousand dollars. It had been
secreted beneath the floor of Andrew Bolton's chamber, before his
arrest and imprisonment. It is probable that he intended to make good
his escape, but failed, owing to the illness of his wife.... This is
a terrible story, friends, and it has a sad ending. Brookville had
never learned to forgive. It had long ago formed the terrible habits
of hate: suspicion, envy, sharp-tongued censure and the rest. Lydia
Bolton could not remain here, though it was her birthplace and her
home.... She longed for friendship! She asked for bread and you gave
her--a stone!"
The profound silence was broken by a sob from a distant corner. The
strained listeners turned with a sharp movement of relief.
"Fer pity sake!" faltered Abby Daggett, her beautiful, rosy face all
quivering with grief. "Can't nobody do nothing?"
"Yes, ma'am!" shouted the big voice of Judge Fulsom. "We can all do
something.... I ain't going to sum up the case against Brookville;
the parson's done it already; if there's any rebuttal coming from the
defendant, now's the time to bring it before the court.
Pages:
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272