Beyond this, apparently, his mind could not go. That his detention was
anything more than temporary never seemed to enter his mind. That he
would be convicted and sentenced was as far from possibility as the
skies from the earth. If he saw visions of a long sojourn in prison, it
was only as a nightmare half consciously experienced and which with the
struggle must give way before the waking.

Fannie was utterly hopeless. She had laid down whatever pride had been
hers and gone to plead with Maurice Oakley for her husband's freedom,
and she had seen his hard, set face. She had gone upon her knees before
his wife to cite Berry's long fidelity.

"Oh, Mis' Oakley," she cried, "ef he did steal de money, we 've got
enough saved to mek it good. Let him go! let him go!"

"Then you admit that he did steal?" Mrs. Oakley had taken her up
sharply.

"Oh, I did n't say dat; I did n't mean dat."

"That will do, Fannie. I understand perfectly. You should have confessed
that long ago."

"But I ain't confessin'! I ain't! He did n't----"

"You may go."

The stricken woman reeled out of her mistress's presence, and Mrs.
Oakley told her husband that night, with tears in her eyes, how