gret, and confined himself to facts, and said nobody would be more
pleased than he would, if this evidence could be contradicted, or
explained in a manner consistent with the prisoner's innocence.

What a stone she had undertaken to roll--up what a hill!

What was to be her next step? Go to the Museum, which was now open to
her, and read more reports? She shrank from that.

"The newspapers are all against him," said she; "and I don't want to be
told he is guilty, when I know he is innocent."

She now re-examined the extracts with a view to names, and found the only
names mentioned were those of the counsel. The expert's name was not
given in either. However, she knew that from Robert. She resolved to
speak to Mr. Hennessy first, and try and get at the defendant's solicitor
through him.

She found him out by the Law Directory, and called at a few minutes past
four.

Hennessy was almost the opposite to Tollemache. He was about the size of
a gentleman's wardrobe; and, like most enormous men, good-natured. He
received her, saw with his practiced eye that she was no common person,
and, after a slight hesitation on professional grounds, heard her
request. He sent for his note-book, found the case in one moment,
remastered it in another, and told her the solicitor for the Crown in
that case was Freshfleld.

"Now," said he, "you want to know who was the defendant's solicitor?
Jenkins, a stamped envelope. Write your name and address on that."

While she was doing it, he scratched a line to Mr. Freshfield, asking him
to send the required information to the inclosed address.

She thanked Mr. Hennessy with the tears in her eyes.

"I dare not ask you whether you think him guilty," she said.

Hennessy shook his head with an air of good-natured rebuke.

"You must not cross-examine counsel," said he. "But, if it will be any
comfort to you, I'll say this much, there was just a shadow of doubt, and
Tollemache certainly let a chance slip. If I had defended your friend, I
would have insisted on a postponement of the trial until this Arthur
Wardlaw" (looking at his note-book) "could be examined, either in court
or otherwise, if he was really dying. Is he dead, do you know?"

"No."

"I thought not. Sick witnesses are often at death's door; but I never
knew one pass the threshold. Ha! ha! The trial ought to have been
postponed till he got well. If a judge refused me a postponement in such
a case, I would make him so odious to