The convict had saved me. Because he confessed to the crime, nobody knew that I was the real thief. I did not feel bad about tricking my sister, Mrs. Joe. But I loved Joe, and my heart felt heavy. I knew I should tell him the whole truth.
However, I was afraid. If I told him, I thought he would lose his trust in me. I imagined sitting by the warm fire with him, knowing that he thought I was a bad person. If he ever looked closely at our food, I would worry that he was remembering my crime. If he could not find one of his tools, I would think he suspected me of stealing again. In the end, I decided to keep my secret. I was too much of a coward to do the right thing, just as I had been too afraid to say no to the convict.
I felt very tired as we walked away from the dark prison ship. Joe kindly took me on his back again and carried me all the way home. It was a difficult journey for him. Mr. Wopsle was exhausted and in a terrible mood. He kept complaining and sitting down in the wet mud, which made his clothes completely filthy.
When we finally arrived home, Joe put me down on the kitchen floor. I was half-asleep and confused by the bright lights and loud voices. Suddenly, my sister hit me hard on the back to wake me up. "Was there ever such a lazy boy!" she shouted.
I looked around and saw that all the dinner guests were still there. Joe was telling them how the convict had confessed. Now, everyone was trying to find out how the prisoner had broken into our house.
Mr. Pumblechook looked around the room importantly. Then, he confidently shared his idea. He said that the convict had climbed onto the roof, made a long rope out of old blankets, and climbed down our kitchen chimney. Because Mr. Pumblechook was a loud and bossy man, everyone immediately agreed with his crazy story. Mr. Wopsle weakly shouted, "No!" but no one listened to him. He had no better idea, he was too tired to argue, and his wet clothes were steaming next to the hot fire.
That was all I heard that night. A moment later, my sister grabbed my arm. She pushed me up the dark stairs to bed. When I woke up the next morning, my secret was still heavy in my heart. Even when people finally stopped talking about the escaped convicts, my feelings of guilt stayed with me for a very long time.