at his side, "is
as innocent of the crime as the purest soul that stands before the
White Throne."

"And what of yourself?"

"As for me, as for me," he added, struggling with the emotion that
surged in his voice, "in the sight of Him that searcheth all hearts I
have acquittal. I have sought it long and with tears of Him before
whom we are all as chaff."

"Away with him, the blasphemer!" cried Justice Millet. "Know where you
are, sir. This is an assembly of Christians. Dare you call God to
acquit you of your barbarous crimes?"

The people in the court took up the judge's word and broke out into a
tempest of irrepressible groans. They were the very people who had
cheered a week ago.

Sim cowered in a corner of the box, with his lank fingers in his long
hair.

Ralph looked calmly on. He was not to be shaken now. There was one way
in which he could quell that clamor and turn it into a tumult of
applause, but that way should not be taken. He could extricate himself
by criminating his dead father, but that he should never do. And had
he not come to die? Was not this the atonement he had meant to make?
It was right, it was right, and it was best. But what of Sim; must he
be the cause of Sim's death also? "This poor old man," he repeated,
when the popular clamor had subsided, "he is innocent."

Sim would have risen, but Ralph guessed his purpose and kept him to
his seat. At the same moment Willy Ray among the people was seen
struggling towards the witness-bar. Ralph guessed his purpose and
checked him, too, with a look. Willy stood as one petrified. He saw
only one of two men for the murderer--Ralph or his father.

"Let us go together," whispered Sim; and in another moment the judge
(Justice Millet) was summing up. He was brief; the evidence of the
woman Rushton and of the recovered warrant proved everything. The case
was as clear as noonday. The jurors need not leave the box.

Without retiring, the jury found a verdict of guilty against both
prisoners.

The crier made proclamation of silence, and the awful sentence of
death was pronounced.

It was remarked that Justice Hide muttered something about a "writ of
error," and that when he rose from the bench he motioned the sheriff
to follow him.

CHAPTER XLIII. LOVE KNOWN AT LAST.

Early next morning Willy Ray arrived at Shoulthwaite, splashed from
head to foot, worn and torn. He had ridden hard from Carlisle, but not
so fast but that two unwelcome visi