my Lord," exclaimed the lawyer; "fatigue and weariness alone
have produced this effect. My unhappy client is no more proof against
exhaustion than against slander."

"My Lord! my Lord!" cried the prisoner, as, holding by the spikes of the
dock, he leaned forwards over it, "can't I get justice? Is it my coat--"

"Sit down, sir," said his counsel, angrily; "leave this to _me_."

"What do you care what becomes of me?" cried the other, rudely. "Where's
Father Cahill? Where's----" At this instant his eyes met those of
D'Esmonde, as, seated in the gallery immediately above him, he watched
the proceedings with an agonizing interest only second to the prisoner's
own. "Oh, look what you've brought me to!" cried he, in an accent of
heart-broken misery; "oh, see where I'm standing now!"

The utterance of these words sent a thrill through the court, and the
judge was obliged to remind the prisoner that he was but endangering his
own safety by these rash interruptions.

"Sure I know it, my Lord; sure I feel it," cried he, sobbing; "but what
help have I? Is there no one to stand by me? You're looking for marks
of blood, ain't ye?" screamed he to the jury, who were now examining the
coat and cap with great attention. "And there it is now,--there it is!"
cried he, wildly, as his eyes detected a folded paper that one of
the jurymen had just taken from the coat-pocket "What could I get by
it?--sure the will could n't do me any harm."

"This _is_ a will, my Lord," said the foreman, handing the document down
to the bench. "It is dated, too, on the very-night before Mr. Godfrey's
death."

The judge quickly scanned the contents, and then passed it over to Mr.
Hipsley, who, glancing his eyes over it, exclaimed, "If we wanted any
further evidence to exculpate the memory of Mr. Dalton, it is here.
By this will, signed, sealed, and witnessed in all form, Mr. Godfrey
bequeathed to his brother-in-law his whole estate of Corrig-O'Neal, and,
with the exception of some trifling legacies, names him heir to all he
is possessed of."

"Let me out of this,--leave me free!" shouted the prisoner, whose
eyeballs now glared with the red glow of madness. "What brought me into
your schemes and plots?--why did I ever come here? Oh, my Lord, don't
see a poor man come to harm that has no friends. Bad luck to them here
and hereafter, the same Daltons! It was ould Peter turned me out upon
the world, and Godfrey was no better. Oh, my Lord! oh, gentlemen! if y