stace was tried in Scotland," he said. "There is a verdict allowed by
the Scotch law, which (so far as I know) is not permitted by the laws of
any other civilized country on the face of the earth. When the jury are
in doubt whether to condemn or acquit the prisoner brought before them,
they are permitted, in Scotland, to express that doubt by a form of
compromise. If there is not evidence enough, on the one hand, to justify
them in finding a prisoner guilty, and not evidence enough, on the other
hand, to thoroughly convince them that a prisoner is innocent, they
extricate themselves from the difficulty by finding a verdict of Not
Proven."

"Was that the Verdict when Eustace was tried?" I asked.

"Yes."

"The jury were not quite satisfied that my husband was guilty? and not
quite satisfied that my husband was innocent? Is that what the Scotch
Verdict means?"

"That is what the Scotch Verdict means. For three years that doubt about
him in the minds of the jury who tried him has stood on public record."

Oh, my poor darling! my innocent martyr! I understood it at last. The
false name in which he had married me; the terrible words he had spoken
when he had warned me to respect his secret; the still more terrible
doubt that he felt of me at that moment--it was all intelligible to my
sympathies, it was all clear to my understanding, now. I got up again
from the sofa, strong in a daring resolution which the Scotch Verdict
had suddenly kindled in me--a resolution at once too sacred and too
desperate to be confided, in the first instance, to any other than my
husband's ear.

"Take me to Eustace!" I cried. "I am strong enough to bear anything
now."

After one searching look at me, the Major silently offered me his arm,
and led me out of the room.

CHAPTER XII. THE SCOTCH VERDICT.

We walked to the far end of the hall. Major Fitz-David opened the
door of a long, narrow room built out at the back of the house as a
smoking-room, and extending along one side of the courtyard as far as
the stable wall.

My husband was alone in the room, seated at the further end of it, near
the fire-place. He started to his feet and faced me in silence as I
entered. The Major softly closed the door on us and retired. Eustace
never stirred a step to meet me. I ran to him, and threw my arms round
his neck and kissed him. The embrace was not returned; the kiss was not
returned. He passively submitted--nothing more.

"Eustace!" I said,