ed in the world had made him but few friends,
even with his own party; his sneering, caustic manner had rendered him
unpopular; few could escape his censures,--none his sarcasms. It would,
indeed, have been difficult to discover one for whom less personal
interest was felt than for the individual who that morning stood erect
in the dock, and with a calm but stern expression regarded the bench and
the jury-box.

As the court continued to fill, Curtis threw his eyes here and there
over the crowded assemblage, but in no wise disconcerted by the
universal gaze of which he was the object. On the contrary, he nodded
familiarly to some acquaintances at a distance; and, recognizing one
whom he knew well in the gallery over his head, he called out,--

"How are you, Ruxton? Let me advise you to change your bootmaker, or
I would n't say that the Crown lawyers won't put you, one day, where I
stand now!"

The laugh which followed this sally was scarcely repressed, when the
trial began. The first witness produced was a certain Joseph Martin,
the solicitor at whose house Curtis had passed the evening on which the
murder was committed. His evidence, of course, could throw little or no
light upon the event, and merely went to establish the fact that Curtis
had stayed with him till nigh midnight, and left him about that hour
to proceed to his home. When questioned as to the prisoner's manner and
general bearing during that evening, he replied that he could detect
nothing strange or unusual in it; that he talked pretty much as he
always did, and upon the same topics.

"Did he allude to the Government, or to any of its officials?" was then
asked; and, before a reply could be given, Curtis cried out,--

"Yes. I told Martin that if the scoundrels who rule us should only
continue their present game, nobody could regret the ruin of a country
that was a disgrace to live in. Did n't I say that?"

"I must remind you, sir," interposed the judge, gravely, "how seriously
such conduct as this is calculated to prejudice the character of your
defence."

"Defence! my Lord," broke in Curtis, "when did I ever think of a
defence? The gentlemen of the jury have heard me more plainly than
your Lordship. I told them, as I now tell you, that innocence is no
protection to a man when hunted down by legal bloodhounds; that--"

"I must enforce silence upon you, sir, if I cannot induce caution,"
said the judge, solemnly; "you may despise your own safety, b