CHAPTER III.

THE JUSTICE--THE DEPARTURE--THE EQUANIMITY OF THE CORPORAL IN
BEARING THE MISFORTUNES OF OTHER PEOPLE.--THE EXAMINATION; ITS
RESULT.--ARAM'S CONDUCT IN PRISON.--THE ELASTICITY OF OUR
HUMAN NATURE.--A VISIT FROM THE EARL.--WALTER'S
DETERMINATION.--MADELINE.

Bear me to prison, where I am committed.
--Measure for Measure.

On arriving at Sir--'s, a disappointment, for which, had they previously
conversed with the officers they might have been prepared, awaited them.
The fact was, that the justice had only endorsed the warrant sent from
Yorkshire; and after a very short colloquy, in which he expressed his
regret at the circumstance, his conviction that the charge would be
disproved, and a few other courteous common-places, he gave Aram to
understand that the matter now did not rest with him, but that it was
to Yorkshire that the officers were bound, and before Mr. Thornton, a
magistrate of that country, that the examination was to take place. "All
I can do," said the magistrate, "I have already done; but I wished for
an opportunity of informing you of it. I have written to my brother
justice at full length respecting your high character, and treating the
habits and rectitude of your life alone as a sufficient refutation of so
monstrous a charge."

For the first time a visible embarrassment came over the firm nerves of
the prisoner: he seemed to look with great uneasiness at the prospect
of this long and dreary journey, and for such an end. Perhaps, the very
notion of returning as a suspected criminal to that part of the country
where a portion of his youth had been passed, was sufficient to disquiet
and deject him. All this while his poor Madeline seemed actuated by a
spirit beyond herself; she would not be separated from his side--she
held his hand in hers--she whispered comfort and courage at the very
moment when her own heart most sank. The magistrate wiped his eyes when
he saw a creature so young, so beautiful, in circumstances so fearful,
and bearing up with an energy so little to be expected from her years
and delicate appearance. Aram said but little; he covered his face with
his right hand for a few moments, as if to hide a passing emotion, a
sudden weakness. When he removed it, all vestige of colour had died
away; his face was pale as that of one who has risen from the grave; but
it was settled and composed.

"It is a hard pang, Sir," said