empty dock, which seemed to
enchain them by some indescribable fascination. They conversed among
themselves only in whispers, until even the whispering ceased, and
nothing could be heard but the steady ticking of the clock, and now and
then the quick-drawn breath of some timid on-looker. Suddenly, a woman,
whose nerves were over-strung, shrieked, and the cry rang weirdly
through the crowded hall. She was taken out, and again there was
silence, every eye being now fixed on the door through which the jury
would re-issue with their verdict of life or death. The hands of the
clock moved slowly round--a quarter--a half--three quarters--and then
the hour sounded with a silvery ring which startled everyone. Madge,
sitting with her hands tightly clasped together, began to fear that her
highly-strung nerves would give way.

"My God," she muttered softly to herself; "will this suspense never
end?"

Just then the door opened, and the jury re-entered. The prisoner was
again placed in the dock, and the judge resumed his seat, this time
with the black cap in his pocket, as everyone guessed.

The usual formalities were gone through, and when the foreman of the
jury stood up every neck was craned forward, and every ear was on the
alert to catch the words that fell from his lips. The prisoner flushed
a little and then grew pale as death, giving a quick, nervous glance at
the quiet figure in black, of which he could just catch a glimpse. Then
came the verdict, sharp and decisive, "NOT GUILTY."

On hearing this a cheer went up from everyone in the court, so strong
was the sympathy with Brian.

In vain the crier of the Court yelled, "Order!" until he was red in the
face. In vain the judge threatened to commit all present for contempt
of court--his voice being inaudible, it did not matter much--the
enthusiasm could not be restrained, and it was five minutes before
order was obtained. The judge, having recovered his composure,
delivered his judgment, and discharged the prisoner, in accordance with
the verdict.

Calton had won many cases, but it is questionable if he had ever heard
a verdict which gave him so much satisfaction as that which proclaimed
Fitzgerald innocent.

And Brian, stepping down from the dock a free man, passed through a
crowd of congratulating friends to a small room off the Court, where a
woman was waiting for him--a woman who clung round his neck, and sobbed
out--

"My darling! My darling! I knew that God woul