Now was the moment of intense and incredible interest. There was the
far-famed beauty herself, to appear against her manly lover. The stir
in the court, the expectation, the anxiety to see her, the stretching
of necks, the pressure of one over another, the fervor of curiosity,
was such as the reader may possibly conceive, but such certainly as
we cannot attempt to describe. She advanced from a side door, deeply
veiled; but the tall and majestic elegance of her figure not only struck
all hearts with admiration, but prepared them for the inexpressible
beauty with which the whole kingdom rang. She was assisted to the table,
and helped into the witness's chair by her father, who seemed to triumph
in her appearance there. On taking her seat, the buzz and murmur of the
spectators became hushed into a silence like that of death, and, until
she spoke, a feather might have been heard falling in the court.

"Miss Folliard," said the judge, in a most respectful voice, "you are
deeply veiled--but perhaps you are not aware that, in order to give
evidence in a court of justice, your veil should be up; will you have
the goodness to raise it?"

Deliberately and slowly she raised it, as the court had desired
her--but, oh! what an effulgence of beauty, what wonderful brilliancy,
what symmetry, what radiance, what tenderness, what expression!

But we feel that to attempt the description of that face, which almost
had divinity stamped upon it, is beyond all our powers. The whole court,
every spectator, man and woman, all for a time were mute, whilst their
hearts drank in the delicious draught of admiration which such beauty
created. After having raised her veil, she looked around the court with
a kind of wonder, after which her eyes rested on Reilly, and immediately
her lids dropped, for she feared that she had done wrong in looking
upon him. This made many of those hearts who were interested in his fate
sink, and wonder why such treachery should be associated with features
that breathed only of angelic goodness and humanity.

"Miss Folliard," said the leading counsel engaged against Reilly, "I am
happy to hear that you regret some past occurrences that took place with
respect to you and the prisoner at the bar."

"Yes," she replied, in a voice that was melody itself, "I do regret
them."

Fox kept his eye fixed upon her, after which he whispered something
to one or two of his brother lawyers; they shook their heads, and
immediate