s
of the top bar of a stile between the mill and the Three Goblets. That
evening, all were submitted to the microscope. Dr. May was waked from
a doze by a very deferential 'I beg your pardon, sir,' and a sudden
tweak, which abstracted a silver thread from his head; and Mab showed
somewhat greater displeasure at a similar act of plunder upon her white
chemisette. But the spying was followed by a sigh; and, in dumb show,
Ethel was made to perceive that the Vintry hair had more affinity with
the canine than the human. As to the scrapings of the window, nothing
but vegetable fibre could there be detected; but on the stile, there
was undoubtedly a mark containing human blood-disks; Tom proved that
both by comparison with his books, and by pricking his own finger, and
kept Ethel to see it after every one else was gone up to bed. But as
one person's blood was like another's, who could tell whether some one
with a cut finger had not been through the stile? Tom shook his head,
there was not yet enough on which to commit himself. 'But I'll have
him!--I'll have him yet!' said he. 'I'll never rest while that villain
walks the earth unpunished!'

Meantime, Harvey Anderson did yeoman's service by a really powerful
article in a leading paper, written from the very heart of an able man,
who had been strongly affected himself, and was well practised in
feeling in pen and ink. Every word rang home to the soul, and all the
more because there was no defence nor declamation against the justice
of the verdict, which was acknowledged to be unavoidable; it was merely
a pathetic delineation of a terrible mystery, with a little meditative
philosophy upon it, the moral of which was, that nothing is more
delusive than fact, more untrue than truth. However, it was copied
everywhere, and had the great effect of making it the cue of more than
half the press to mourn over, rather than condemn, 'the unfortunate
young gentleman.'

Mrs. Pugh showed every one the article, and confided to most that she
had absolutely ventured to suggest two or three of the sentences. But a
great deal might be borne from Mrs. Pugh, in consideration of her
indefatigable exertions with the ladies' petition, and it was a decided
success. The last census had rated Market Stoneborough at 7561
inhabitants, and Mrs. Pugh's petition bore no less than 3024 female
names, in which she fairly beat that of the mayor; but then she had
been less scrupulous as to the age at whi