Jarge said: ‘Well, I’ve got about sixpence in my pocket. You could try to take that from me, if you fancy your chances.’
‘Where’s Riddick gone?’
‘He went to talk to the archbishop of Canterbury about the evils of gambling.’
Frogeye looked puzzled, then his face cleared and he said: ‘Quite the joker, aren’t you?’ He turned away, and Bull followed him.
When they were at a safe distance Frogeye called back: ‘I’ll see you again, Jarge Box. I wonder how funny you’ll be when you’re swinging from a hangman’s rope.’
*
Jarge appeared at the March quarter sessions, with Hornbeam presiding as chairman of justices. A grand jury was empanelled to decide whether Jarge should be committed to the assize court for trial on the capital charge of machine-breaking.
Sheriff Doye was the prosecutor. This did not always happen. Usually the prosecution was brought by the injured party – which in this case would be Moses Crocket – but there was no strict rule.
The first witness was Maisie Roberts, a mill hand who lived in one of the Hornbeam-owned streets on the south side of the river near the mills. She was young and raggedly dressed. Sal knew her by sight but had never spoken to her.
Maisie looked pleased to be the centre of attention. Sal thought she would probably commit perjury for sixpence.
She testified that she had seen Jarge walking towards Crocket’s Mill and had noticed that the bells were ringing at the same time. She remembered it because she had been surprised. ‘I knew he was a ringer, see,’ she said.
Sal had discussed with Jarge the questions he should ask witnesses. He did not have them written down because he could not read, but he was used to remembering important things. He said to Maisie: ‘Do you recall that it was dark that evening when we were ringing?’
‘Yes, it was dark,’ said Maisie.
‘So how did you recognize me?’
‘You were carrying a lamp.’
The response came quickly, and Sal guessed that someone had prepared Maisie for that question.
Jarge said: ‘And the light from the lamp was enough for you to know me.’
‘That and your size,’ Maisie said. With a grin she added: ‘There’s not many that big.’ She was quick-witted.
There was a little laugh in the courtroom, and Maisie looked pleased.
Jarge said: ‘The man you saw, who you thought was me, did he speak to you?’
‘No.’
Jarge looked as if he had forgotten what to say next. Sal whispered: ‘Ask who her landlord is.’
Jarge followed her instruction.
‘Mr Hornbeam is my landlord,’ said Maisie.
‘And how much rent do you owe?’
‘I’m fully paid up.’ She looked even more pleased with herself.
Sal felt sure Maisie had been bribed somehow. But it was hard to feel indignant: Jarge was, after all, guilty.
The second witness was Marie Dodds, widow of Benny Dodds, who had been a bell-ringer. Years ago Benny had fallen for Sal, and although Sal had never encouraged him, Marie had taken against Sal. She still bore a grudge.
Marie testified that Benny had told her Sal occasionally stood in for Jarge. This was very damning: it invalidated Jarge’s alibi.
Jarge said to Marie: ‘But women can’t ring those bells – they’re not strong enough.’
