ut a thin shadow
of the former bluff, healthy Owen Duncan. In so short a time as this,
can care and harrowing thought exercise its influence on the human
frame!

Never was there a finer or more heavenly morning than that which ushered
in the day of trial. The court-house was crowded to suffocation, the mob
outside fearfully numerous, and never before, perhaps, was Ennis in such
a state of feverish excitement. Daly's murder was as nought in the minds
of all, in comparison with Duncan's accusation. Alas! the former was an
occurrence of too frequent repetition, to be very much thought of;
but the latter--namely, Owen's being suspected--was a subject of
the extremest wonder. His former high character--his sobriety--his
quietness, and his being a native of the town, in some measure accounted
for this latter feeling; and there was an inward conviction in most
men's minds, that he was guiltless of the crime for which he was
accused. Although the court-house was crowded, yet when the prisoner
was called to the bar, a pin could be heard to drop in any part of the
place. There was a single female figure leaning on the arm of an aged
and silver-haired, though hale and healthy countryman, within a few feet
of the dock; and as the prisoner advanced, and laying his hand on the
iron railing, confronted the judges and the court, she slowly raised the
hood of the cloak, in which she was completely muffled, and gazed long
and earnestly on his face. There was in that wistful look, a fear--a
hope--an undying tenderness; and when his eye met hers, there was a
proud, yet soft and warm expression in its glance, that reassured her
sinking heart. As she looked round on the court, and the many strange
faces, and all the striking paraphernalia of justice, a slight shudder
crept silently over her frame, and she clung closer to her companion, as
if to ask for all the protection he could afford. It was Ellen and her
father who came, the former summoned as a witness, and the latter to
accompany and support the daughter of his aged heart.

Duncan was arraigned: and on being asked the usual question of "guilty,
or not guilty?" he answered in a clear, calm voice, "Not guilty, my
Lord!" and the trial proceeded. The same evidence that was given at the
magistrate's house was a second time repeated; and, evidently, its train
of circumstances made a deep impression on the court. While the first
part of the examination was going forward, Ellen remained as mo