a large employer of labour, and was regarded as
a good master. Ned lived on good terms with everybody. Who, then,
could have killed him? Of course, every finger pointed to Paul--the
long feud, the repeated quarrels, the injuries which Wilson had often
done to him, the blow on his head on the very night of the murder, and
Paul's threat. Then, again, there was his refusal to give an account
of his actions between midnight and six in the morning--and, last of
all, the knife acknowledged to be the property of Paul, with which the
deed was done. The chain seemed complete; there did not appear to be a
loophole anyhow, and yet she was certain Paul had never committed the
deed. Was it likely that a clever man such as he, even if he had
wanted to commit murder, would have used such brutal means? Would he
have left behind him the knife which must inevitably be traced to him?
The thing was impossible! Paul could not have done it. Then she
remembered the strong, passionate nature of the man, the flash of his
eyes, his grim resolves, and her mind became torn by conflicting
thoughts. Why did he persist in being silent? Was there someone whom
he desired to shield, and, if so, who was it? And again and again
there were the old haunting questions.

When the news was presently announced that the Brunford magistrates had
committed him to the Manchester Assizes for wilful murder, her father
was in the room.

"You've seen this, Mary?" he said, and he noted how pale her face was,
noted, too, the dark rings round her eyes.

She nodded.

"I haven't had time to go to Lancashire," continued the Judge. "Of
course, I wrote a long letter of sympathy to the Wilsons. I hope
you've also done this?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Poor Ned! He was a good lad," said the Judge. "To think that such a
life as his should have been cut short by that atheistic villain!"

"Are you sure it was he?" she could not help saying.

"Nothing is sure in such cases," replied the Judge. "But I have read
every line of the evidence. I've had full reports sent to me from
Brunford, and I have carefully weighed everything. Besides, you see, I
know the history of both men, and I know the motives likely to be at
work. Unless something comes out at the trial which utterly alters the
impression made by what has previously taken place, nothing can save
him. Any jury in the world would condemn him!"

Her heart became like lead as he spoke, but she remained si