but had fallen off of late, poor fellow! And then, in spite of protestations to the contrary, behold! the corpus delicti—that unlucky crock of gold, actually in the man's possession, and the fragment of shawl,-was not that sufficient?

Jonathan Floyd in open court had been base enough to accuse Mr. Jennings of the murder.Mr. Jennings indeed! a strict man of high character, lately dismissed, after twenty years' service, in a most arbitrary manner by young Sir John, who had taken a great liking to the Actons. People could guess why, when they looked on Grace and Grace, too, was sufficient reason to account for Jonathan's wicked suspicions; of course, it was the lover's interest to throw the charge on other people. As to Mr. Jennings himself, just recovered from a fit of illness, it was astonishing how liberally and indulgently he prayed the court to shew the prisoner mercy : his white and placid face looked quite benevolently at him, and this respectable person was the murderer, ey, Mr. Jonathan?

So, when the Judge summed up, and clearly could neither find nor make a loophole for the prisoner, the matter seemed accomplished; all knew what the verdict must be,-poor Roger Acton had not the shadow of a chance.

CHAPTER XLV.

ROGER'S DEFENCE.

THEN, while the Jury were consulting,―they would not leave the box, it seemed so clear,Roger broke the death-like silence; and he said: :

"Judge, I crave your worship's leave to speak and hearken to me, countrymen. Many evil things have I done in my time, both against God and my neighbour: I am ashamed, as well I may be, when I think on 'em : I have sworn, and drunk, and lied; I have murmured loudly, -coveted wickedly,-ay, and once I stole. It was a little theft, I lost it on the spot, and never stole again: pray God, I never may. Nevertheless, countrymen, and sinful though I be in the sight of Him who made us; according to man's judgment and man's innocency, I had lived among you all blameless, until I found that crock of gold. I did find it, countrymen, as God is my witness and, therefore, though a

sinner, I appeal to Him: He knoweth that I found it in the sedge that skirts my garden, at the end of my own celery trench. I did wickedly and foolishly to hide my find, worse to deny it, and worst of all to spend it in the low lewd way I did. But of robbery I am guiltless as you are. And as to this black charge of murder, till Simon Jennings spoke the word I never knew it had been done. Folk of Hurstley, friends and neighbours, you all know Roger Acton, the old-time honest Roger of these

no

forty years, before the devil made him mad by giving him much gold,-did he ever maliciously do harm to man or woman, to child or poor dumb brute? No, countrymen, I am murderer. That the seemings are against me, I wot well; they may excuse your judgment in condemning me to death,—and I and the good gentleman there who took my part, (Heaven bless you, sir !) cannot go against the facts: but they speak falsely, and I truly; Roger Acton is an innocent man: may God defend the right!"

"Amen!" earnestly whispered a tremulous female voice, "and God will save you, father."

The Court was still as death, except for sobbing; the Jury were doubting and confounded; in vain Mr. Jennings looking at the

foreman, shook his head and stroked his chin in an incredulous and knowing manner; clearly they must retire, not at all agreed; and the judge himself, that masqued man in flowing wig and ermine, but still warmed by human sympathies, struck a tear from his wrinkled cheek; and all seemed to be involuntarily waiting, (for the Jury, though unable to decide, had not yet left their box,) to see whether any sudden miracle would happen to save a man, whom evidence made so guilty, and yet he bore upon his open brow the genuine signature of Inno

cence.

Silence, there, silence! you can't get in; there's no room for❜ards!" but a couple of javelin-men at the door were knocked down right and left, and through the dense and suffocating crowd, a big black-whiskered fellow elbowing his way against their faces, spite of all obstruction, struggled to the front behind the bar. Then, breathless with gigantic exertion, (it was like a mammoth treading down the cedars,) he roared out,

"Judge, swear me, I'm a witness; huzza! it's not too late."

And the irreverent gentleman tossed a fur cap right up to the skylight.

CHAPTER XLVI.

THE WITNESS.

MR. GRANTLY brightened up at once, Grace looked happily to heaven, and Roger Acton shouted out,

"Thank God! thank God! there's Ben Burke !"

Yes, he had heard miles away of his friend's danger about an old shawl and a honey-pot full of gold, and he had made all speed, with Tom in his train, to come and bear witness to the innocence of Roger. The sensation in court, as may be well conceived, was thrilling; but a vociferous crier, and the deep anxiety to hear this sturdy witness, soon reduced all again to silence.

Then did they swear Benjamin Burke, who, to the scandal of his cause, would insist upon stating his profession to be "poacher ;" and at first, poor simple fellow, seemed to have a