ainted. On inspecting the newly-disturbed earth, he felt satisfied
that the body had been discovered, and this circumstance, joined with
the disappearance of the Tobacco-box, precipitated his determination to
act as he was about to do; or, perhaps altogether suggested the notion
of taking such steps as might bring Condy Dalton to justice. At present
it is difficult to say why he did not allude to the missing Box openly,
but perhaps that may be accounted for at a future and more appropriate
stage of our narrative.

CHAPTER XI. -- Pity and Remorse.

The public mind, though often obtuse and stupid in many matters, is
in others sometimes extremely acute and penetrating. For some years
previous to the time laid in our tale, the family of Condy Dalton began
to decline very perceptibly in their circumstances. There had been
unpropitious seasons; there had been failure of crops and disease
among the cattle--and, perhaps what was the worst scourge of all, there
existed a bad landlord in the person of Dick-o'-the-Grange. So long,
however, as they continued prosperous, their known principles of
integrity and strict truth caused them to be well spoken of and
respected, in spite of the imputation which had been made against them
as touching the murder of Sullivan. In the course of time, however, when
the evidences of struggle succeeded those of comfort and independence,
the world began to perceive the just judgments of God as manifested in
the disasters which befel them, and which seemed to visit them as with
a judicial punishment. Year after year, as they sank in the scale of
poverty, did the almost forgotten murder assume a more prominent and
distinct shape in the public mind, until at length it became too certain
to be doubted, that the slow but sure finger of God's justice was laid
upon them as an additional proof that crime, however it may escape the
laws of men, cannot veil itself from the all-seeing eye of the Almighty.

There was, however, an individual member of the family, whose piety and
many virtues excited a sympathy in her behalf, as general as it was deep
and compassionate. This was Mrs. Dalton, towards whom only one universal
impression of good-will, affection, and respect prevailed. Indeed, it
might be said that the whole family were popular in the country;
but, notwithstanding their respectability, both individually and
collectively, the shadow of crime was upon them; and as long as the
people saw that ev