ier
hearing, the throng was now even yet more dense. The benches usually
provided for the public had been removed, and spectators stood on
every inch of the floor. Some crept up to the windows, and climbed on
to the window boards. One or two daring souls clambered over the
shoulders of their fellows to the principals of the roof, and sat
perched across them. The old court house was paved and walled with
people.

From the entrance at the western end the occupants of the seats before
the table filed in one by one. The first to come was the sheriff,
Wilfrey Lawson. With papers in hand, he stationed himself immediately
under the jurors' box and facing the bar. Then came the clerk of the
court, who was making an ostentatious display of familiarity with
counsel for the King, who walked half a pace behind him.

The judges took their seats. As they entered, the gentleman of the
rubicund complexion was chatting in a facetious vein with his brother
judge, who, however, relaxed but little of the settled austerity of
his countenance under the fire of many jests.

Silence was commanded, and Ralph Ray was ordered to the bar. He had
scarcely taken his place there when the name of Simeon Stagg was also
called. For an instant Ralph looked amazed. The sheriff observed his
astonishment and smiled. The next moment Sim was by his side. His face
was haggard; his long gray-and-black hair hung over his temples. He
was led in. He clutched feverishly at the rail in front. He had not
yet lifted his eyes. After a moment he raised them, and met the eyes
of Ralph turned towards him. Then he shuffled and sidled up to Ralph's
elbow. The people stretched their necks to see the unexpected
prisoner.

After many preliminary formalities it was announced that the grand
jury had found a true bill for murder against the two prisoners.

The indictment was read. It charged Ralph Ray and Simeon Stagg with
having murdered with malice aforethought James Wilson, agent to the
King's counsel.

The prisoners were told to plead. Ralph answered promptly and in a
clear tone, "Not Guilty." Sim hesitated, looked confused, stammered,
lifted his eyes as if inquiringly to Ralph's face, then muttered
indistinctly, "Not Guilty."

The judges exchanged glances. The clerk, with a sneer on his lip,
mumbled something to counsel. The spectators turned with a slight
bustle among themselves. Their pleas had gone against the
prisoners--at least against Ralph.

When the men a