be felt; and the prisoner gasped once or twice
convulsively.

"But," said the foreman, "we wish to recommend him to mercy."

"On what grounds?" inquired the judge.

"Because, my lord, we believe it was not a crime planned by the prisoner
beforehand, but arose out of the bad passions of the moment, and was so
committed."

The judge paused, and drew something black from the receptacle of his
pocket, buried deep in his robes.

"Prisoner at the bar! Have you anything to urge why sentence of death
should not be passed upon you?"

The prisoner clutched the front of the dock. He threw up his head, as
if shaking off the dread fear which had oppressed him, and the marble of
his face changed to scarlet.

"Only this, my lord. The jury, in giving their reason for recommending
me to your lordship's mercy, have adopted the right view of the case as
it actually occurred. The man Hallijohn's life was taken by me, it will
be useless for me to deny, in the face of the evidence given this day,
but it was not taken in malice. When I quitted the girl, Afy, and went
to the cottage for my hat, I no more contemplated injuring mortal man
than I contemplate it at this moment. He was there, the father, and in
the dispute that ensued the catastrophe occurred. My lord, it was not
wilful murder."

The prisoner ceased, and the judge, the black cap on his head, crossed
his hands one upon the other.

"Prisoner at the bar. You have been convicted by clear and undoubted
evidence of the crime of wilful murder. The jury have pronounced you
guilty; and in their verdict I entirely coincide. That you took the
life of that ill-fated and unoffending man, there is no doubt; you have,
yourself, confessed it. It was a foul, a barbarous, a wicked act. I care
not for what may have been the particular circumstances attending it; he
may have provoked you by words; but no provocation of that nature could
justify your drawing the gun upon him. Your counsel urged that you were
a gentleman, a member of the British aristocracy, and therefore deserved
consideration. I confess that I was much surprised to hear such a
doctrine fall from his lips. In my opinion, you being what you are,
your position in life makes your crime the worse, and I have always
maintained that when a man possessed of advantages falls into sin,
he deserves less consideration than does one who is poor, simple, and
uneducated. Certain portions of the evidence given to-day (and I do not
now all