the motive which had caused Paul to commit this crime. It
was personal hatred, personal enmity, and a desire for revenge. The
gossip of years had been dragged into the court, and the picture which
he drew of Paul was that of a relentless, persistent enemy of his son.
When Mr. Bakewell had sat down after this examination, Judge Bolitho
asked the witness certain questions, and it was at this time that Paul
felt as though the judge were seeking to help the counsel for the
prosecution rather than to do justice to the accused man.

"My lord," he said, when the judge had finished, "I will take advantage
of what you said at the commencement of the trial and cross-examine the
witness."

The judge nodded.

"Then I will ask Mr. Wilson two or three questions bearing on his
evidence," said Paul. "Mr. Wilson, you have stated more than once that
I have uttered threats concerning your son?"

"Yes."

"Would you mind telling me what those threats were?"

"You threatened to do him injury."

"What injury?"

The witness looked confused.

"Have I at any time in your hearing threatened your son with harm?"

"No, not in my hearing."

"Then you have been repeating gossip rather than telling of what you
actually know?"

"You've threatened my son himself."

"With what?"

"Well, you have said to him, 'I'll pay you out for this.'"

"For what?"

"For certain supposed injuries."

"But I am here on the charge of murder. Did I ever threaten to murder
him? Did he ever tell you that I had threatened to murder him?"

"No, not in so many words."

"That's all, my lord," said Paul. "I would not have interposed, only,
since you have so kindly allowed me to cross-examine witnesses, I
thought you would not mind if I mentioned such an obvious thing!"

On this the judge made no comment, and the case was proceeded with.
They had made but little headway when the business of the day came to
an end, and Paul was taken back to his cell.

When he again found himself alone, everything became unreal to him. It
seemed to him as though he had been dreaming a horrible dream. Every
actor in the grim tragedy which had been played seemed but a phantom of
the brain. Everything was intangible, even although he knew how
terrible the issues were. By and by, however, he was able to grasp
things more clearly, and to remember the events of the day, as well as
to call to mind the faces of the people who had been in the court. He
knew that the e