ath, covered over by a
carpet, and bearing several signs of attempted obliteration, was a large
blood stain. The woman who had cleaned the cottage prior to Mr.
Maddison's occupation, was in court, and would swear that the stain in
question was not there at that time. He mentioned these details first,
he went on to say, but the more important part of his evidence had
reference to these letters, and his subsequent action with regard to
them. He would call attention to one of them, he remarked, producing it,
and allow the bench to draw their own conclusions. He would read it to
them, and they could then examine it for themselves.

The thin rustling sheet of foreign notepaper, which he held in his hand,
was covered closely with delicate feminine handwriting, and emitted a
faint sweet perfume. For the first time during the hearing of the case
Bernard Maddison showed some slight emotion as the letters were handed
about. But he restrained it immediately.

The sentence which Detective Robson read out was as follows:--

"Bernard, those who have sinned against their fellow creatures, and
against their God, may surely be left to His judgment. The
vengeance which seeks to take life is a cruel bloodthirsty passion
which no wrong can excuse, no suffering justify. Forgive me if I
seem to dwell so much upon this. That terrible oath which, at his
bidding, I heard you swear against Sir Geoffrey Kynaston rings ever
in my ears!"

There were other sentences of a somewhat similar nature. As Mr. Thurwell
listened to them he felt his heart sink. What could avail against such
evidence as this?

There was no hesitation at all on the part of the magistrates. Bernard
Maddison had pleaded "not guilty," but had declined to say another
word. "Anything there is to be said on my behalf," he remarked quietly,
in answer to a question from the bench, "I will say myself to the jury
before whom I presume you will send me."

While the committal was being made out, Mr. Thurwell leaned over and
whispered to him.

"Helen sends her love. I will arrange about the defence, and will try
and see you myself before the trial."

"You need send no lawyer to me," he answered. "I shall defend myself."

Mr. Thurwell said no more. He was a little dazed by those letters, but
he was not going to allow himself to be influenced by them, for his
daughter's sake, as well as his own. He did not like to admit himself in
the wrong, and h