r clues and yet the man who killed poor
old man McBride may be somewhere in Mount Hope at this very minute!"

"Until I am proved innocent, I suppose they see nothing to do," said
North.

"But, John, you are not afraid of the outcome?" And she rested a hand on
his arm.

"No, I don't suppose I really am,--I shall be able to clear myself, of
course; the law doesn't often punish innocent men, and I am innocent."

He spoke with quiet confidence, and her face became radiant with the
hope that was in his words.

"You have taken to yourself more than your share of my evil fortunes,
Elizabeth, dear--I shall be a poor sort of a fellow if my gratitude does
not last to the end of my days!" said North.

The general had shaken hands with the deputy and now crossed the room to
Elizabeth and North.

"We shall have to say good night, North. Can we do anything before we
go?" he asked.

"We will come again to-morrow, John,--won't we, father?" said Elizabeth,
as she gave North her hands. "And Judge Belknap will be here in the
morning!" She spoke with fresh courage and looked her lover straight in
the eyes. Then she turned to the general.

North watched them as they passed out into the night, and even after the
door had closed on them he stood where she had left him. It was only
when the little deputy spoke that he roused himself from his reverie.

"Well, John, are you ready now?"

"Yes," said North.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

AT HIS OWN DOOR

Judge Langham sat in his library before a brisk wood fire with the day's
papers in a heap on the floor beside him. In repose, the one dominant
expression of the judge's face was pride, an austere pride, which
manifested itself even in the most casual intercourse. Yet no man in
Mount Hope combined fewer intimacies with a wider confidence, and his
many years of public life had but augmented the universal respect in
which he was held.

Now in the ruddy light of his own hearth, but quite divorced from any
sentiment or sympathy, the judge was considering the case of John North.
His mind in all its operations was singularly clear and dispassionate; a
judicial calm, as though born to the bench, was habitual to him. It was
nothing that his acquaintance with John North dated back to the day John
North first donned knee-breeches.

He shaded his face with his hand. In the long procession of evil-doers
who had gone their devious ways through the swinging baize doors of his
court, North stalke