Suddenly a deep flush came
over his face, and he was about to speak impetuously, when he seemed
checked again by some inward shock, that sent the flush back and
made him tremble. But at last he spoke feebly, looking at William.
'I remember now- the knife wasn't in my pocket.'
William said, 'I know nothing of what you mean.' The other
persons present, however, began to inquire where Silas meant to say
that the knife was, but he would give no further explanation: he
only said, 'I am sore stricken; I can say nothing. God will clear me.'
On their return to the vestry there was further deliberation. Any
resort to legal measures for ascertaining the culprit was contrary
to the principles of the Church: prosecution was held by them to be
forbidden to Christians, even if it had been a case in which there was
no scandal to the community. But they were bound to take other
measures for finding out the truth, and they resolved on praying and
drawing lots. This resolution can be a ground of surprise only to
those who are unacquainted with that obscure religious life which
has gone on in the alleys of our towns. Silas knelt with his brethren,
relying on his own innocence being certified by immediate divine
interference, but feeling that there was sorrow and mourning behind
for him even then- that his trust in man had been cruelly bruised. The
lots declared that Silas Marner was guilty.
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