"

The judge's hard and unmoved tone of voice seemed to bring misgiving
to her mind, and she trembled from head to foot as she falteringly
answered--

"The wild boys of the mountain kep' it, my Lord, an' so he couldn't
bring id home wid him. But, indeed, my Lord, indeed he's innocent--I'll
swear he never done it! Fur, oh! iv you knew the tindherness ov his
heart--he that niver hurt a fly! Don't be hard on him for the love ov
mercy, an' I'll pray for you night an' day."

This was the last question she was asked, and having left the table,
and regained her former position by her father's side, she listened with
moveless, motionless intensity to the judge's "charge." He recapitulated
the evidence--dwelt on the strong circumstances that seemed to bespeak
his guilt--spoke of the mournful increase of crime--of laws, and life,
and property being at stake--and finally closed his address with a
sentence expressive of the extreme improbability of the prisoner's
defence; for he, on being asked if he had any thing further to say,
replied in the negative, only asserting, in the most solemn manner, his
innocence of the charge.

The jury retired, and Ellen's hard, short breathings, alone told that
she existed. Her head was thrown back, her lips apart, and slightly
quivering, and her eyes fixedly gazing on the empty box, with an anxious
and wild stare of hope and suspense. Owen's face was very pale, and
his lips livid--there was the slightest perceptible emotion about the
muscles of his mouth, but his eye quailed not, and his broad brow had
the impress of an unquenched spirit as firmly fixed as ever on its
marble front. A quarter of an hour elapsed, and still the same agonizing
suspense--another, and the jury returned not--five minutes, and they
reentered. Ellen's heart, beat as if it would burst her bosom; and
Owen's pale cheek became a little more flushed, and his eye full of
anxiety. The foreman in a measured, feelingless tone pronounced the word
"Guilty!" and a thrill of horror passed through the entire court, while
that sickness which agonizes the very depths of the soul convulsed
Owen's face with a momentary spasm, and he faltered "God's will be
done." The judge slowly drew on the black cap, and still Ellen moved
not--it seemed as if the very blood within her veins was frozen, and
that her life's pulses no more could execute their functions. No man,
however brave or hardened, can view the near approach of certain death,
and