and that of
his counsel, who sat near him. But the pallor of the one was of scorn,
and that of the other---- Well, no one who knew the relations of Mr.
Orcutt to the witness could wonder that the renowned lawyer shrank from
hearing the woman he loved confess her partiality for another man.

Mr. Ferris, who understood the situation as well as any one, but who had
passed the point where sympathy could interfere with his action, showed
a disposition to press his advantage.

"Miss Dare," he inquired, "in declining the proposals of the prisoner,
did you state to him in so many words these objections you have here
mentioned?"

"I did."

"And what answer did he give you?"

"He replied that he was also ambitious, and hoped and intended to make a
success in life."

"And did he tell you how he hoped and intended to make a success?"

"He did."

"Miss Dare, were these letters written by you?"

She looked at the packet he held toward her, started as she saw the
broad black ribbon that encircled it, and bowed her head.

"I have no doubt these are my letters," she rejoined, a little
tremulously for her. And unbinding the packet, she examined its
contents. "Yes," she answered, "they are. These letters were all written
by me."

And she handed them back with such haste that the ribbon which bound
them remained in her fingers, where consciously or unconsciously she
held it clutched all through the remaining time of her examination.

"Now," said the District Attorney, "I propose to read two of these
letters. Does my friend wish to look at them before I offer them in
evidence?" holding them out to Mr. Orcutt.

Every eye in the court-room was fixed upon the latter's face, as the
letters addressed to his rival by the woman he wished to make his wife,
were tendered in this public manner to his inspection. Even the iron
face of Mansell relaxed into an expression of commiseration as he turned
and surveyed the man who, in despite of the anomalous position they held
toward each other, was thus engaged in battling for his life before the
eyes of the whole world. At that instant there was not a spectator who
did not feel that Tremont Orcutt was the hero of the moment.

He slowly turned to the prisoner:

"Have you any objection to these letters being read?"

"No," returned the other, in a low tone.

Mr. Orcutt turned firmly to the District Attorney:

"You may read them if you think proper," said he.

Mr. Ferris bowed; the le