h Forrester assaulted my
nephew, and forced upon him what he did as matter of self-defense? Where
is the proof of this?"

"Oh, proof! Why, you did not think that was the true state of the
case--that was only the case I was to present to the jury."

"And there is, then, no evidence for what you have said?"

"Not a tittle, sir. Evidence is scarcely necessary in a case like this,
sir, where the state proves more than you can possibly disprove. Your
only hope, sir is to present a plausible conjecture to the jury. Just
set their fancies to work, and they have a taste most perfectly
dramatic. What you leave undone, they will do. Where you exhibit a
blank, they will supply the words wanting. Only set them on trail, and
they'll tree the 'possum. They are noble hands at it, and, as I now live
and talk to you, sir, not one of them who heard the plausible story
which I would have made out, but would have discovered more common sense
and reason in it than in all the evidence you could possibly have given
them. Because, you see, I'd have given them a reason for everything.
Look, how I should have made out the story. Mr. Colleton and Forrester
are excellent friends, and both agree to travel together. Well, they're
to meet at the forks by midnight. In the meantime, Forrester goes to see
his sweetheart, Kate Allen--a smart girl, by the way, colonel, and well
to look on. Parting's a very uncomfortable thing, now, and they don't
altogether like it. Kate cries, and Forrester storms. Well, _must_ come
comes at last. They kiss, and are off--different ways. Well, grief's but
a dry companion, and to get rid of him, Forrester takes a drink; still
grief holds on, and then he takes another and another, until grief gets
off at last, but not before taking with him full half, and not the worst
half either, of the poor fellow's senses. What then? Why, then he
swaggers and swears at everything, and particularly at your nephew, who,
you see, not knowing his condition, swears at him for keeping him
waiting--"

"Ralph Colleton never swears, Mr. Pippin," said the colonel, grimly.

"Well, well, if he didn't swear then, he might very well have sworn, and
I'll be sworn but he did on that occasion; and it was very pardonable
too. Well, he swears at the drunken man, not knowing his condition, and
the drunken man rolls and reels like a rowdy, and gives it to him back,
and then they get at it. Your nephew, who is a stout colt, buffets him
well for a time,