He had the better of her ladyship for one moment; but then she answered—­

“But in this case, the charge on which you committed him is for theft; now his wife tells me he can prove he was some miles distant from Holmwood, where the robbery took place, all that afternoon; she says you had the evidence before you.”

Mr. Lathom here interrupted my lady, by saying, in a somewhat sulky manner—­“No such evidence was brought before me when I gave the warrant.  I am not answerable for the other magistrates’ decision, when they had more evidence before them.  It was they who committed him to gaol.  I am not responsible for that.”

My lady did not often show signs of impatience; but we knew she was feeling irritated, by the little perpetual tapping of her high-heeled shoe against the bottom of the carriage.  About the same time we, sitting backwards, caught a glimpse of Mr. Gray through the open door, standing in the shadow of the hall.  Doubtless Lady Ludlow’s arrival had interrupted a conversation between Mr. Lathom and Mr. Gray.  The latter must have heard every word of what she was saying; but of this she was not aware, and caught at Mr. Lathom’s disclaimer of responsibility with pretty much the same argument which she had heard (through our repetition) that Mr. Gray had used not two hours before.

“And do you mean to say, Mr. Lathom, that you don’t consider yourself responsible for all injustice or wrong-doing that you might have prevented, and have not?  Nay, in this case the first germ of injustice was your own mistake.  I wish you had been with me a little while ago, and seen the misery in that poor fellow’s cottage.”  She spoke lower, and Mr. Gray drew near, in a sort of involuntary manner; as if to hear all she was saying.  We saw him, and doubtless Mr. Lathom heard his footstep, and knew who it was that was listening behind him, and approving of every word that was said.  He grew yet more sullen in manner; but still my lady was my lady, and he dared not speak out before her, as he would have done to Mr. Gray.  Lady Ludlow, however, caught the look of stubborness in his face, and it roused her as I had never seen her roused.

“I am sure you will not refuse, sir, to accept my bail.  I offer to bail the fellow out, and to be responsible for his appearance at the sessions.  What say you to that, Mr. Lathom?”

“The offence of theft is not bailable, my lady.”

“Not in ordinary cases, I dare say.  But I imagine this is an extraordinary case.  The man is sent to prison out of compliment to you, and against all evidence, as far as I can learn.  He will have to rot in gaol for two months, and his wife and children to starve.  I, Lady Ludlow, offer to bail him out, and pledge myself for his appearance at next quarter-sessions.”

“It is against the law, my lady.”

“Bah!  Bah!  Bah!  Who makes laws?  Such as I, in the House of Lords—­such as you, in the House of Commons.  We, who make the laws in St. Stephen’s, may break the mere forms of them, when we have right on our sides, on our own land, and amongst our own people.”