his sister, his manner was so trifling and flippant that it grated on
their feelings painfully. He was working as laboriously it seemed, as
the enormous fee promised him would warrant, leaving no stone unturned
which would throw some favorable light on young Elwyn's case. Thus days
and weeks passed on, and in the midst of increasing agitation and
excitement, the day of trial came.

When the brother and sister parted the evening before the trial, Agnes
once more renewed the entreaties she had so often made that Lewie would
allow her to remain by his side during the painful events of the coming
day. But his refusal was firm and unyielding.

"No, no, dear sister, pray do not urge it," said he. "I know I shall be
too much agitated as it is; I do not believe I can go through it with
even an appearance of calmness alone; and how much more difficult it
would be for me with you by my side. I know I could not bear it. No!
Agnes, remain in the village if you prefer it, but do not let me see
your dear face again till my fate is decided. Let us pray once more
together, sweet sister--let us pray for mercy from God and man." And
when they arose from their knees they took their sad farewell, and Agnes
accompanied her uncle to the house of her kind friend, Dr. Rodney, where
she was to remain till the trial was over.

XVIII.

The Trial.

"The morn lowered darkly; but the sun hath now,
With fierce and angry splendor, through the clouds
Burst forth, as if impatient to behold
This our high triumph. Lead the prisoner in."

--VESPERS OF PALERMO.

To say that, long before the hour fixed for the trial, the court room
was crowded to its utmost capacity with eager and expectant faces, would
be to repeat what has been written and said of every trial, the events
of which have been chronicled; but it would be no less true for that.
And when the young prisoner was brought into the room, his handsome face
pale from agitation and recent confinement, and with an expression of
intense anxiety in his eye, all not before deeply interested for the
friends of the unfortunate Cranston were moved to pity, and strongly
prepossessed in his favor.

Mr. W----, the counsel for the prisoner, was an able and eloquent
lawyer. He was a small, slight man, with a high, bald forehead; and a
pair of very bright, black, restless eyes. His manner was naturally
quick and lively; but he well knew how to touch the tender strings, and
make them