her to him
that I ought. Avick machree, now I feel it, may be whin it's too late."

These words affected all who heard them, many even to tears.

"I have no remedy," observed the judge. "Tipstaff, take away the witness
to prison. It is painful to me," he added, in a broken voice, "to feel
compelled thus to punish you for an act which, however I may respect the
motives that dictate it, I cannot overlook. The ends of justice cannot
be frustrated."

"Mylord," exclaimed the prisoner, "don't punish the old man for refusing
to speak against me. His love for me is so strong that I know he
couldn't do it. I will state the truth myself, but spare him. I did not
sleep in my own bed on the night Mr. O' Brien's haggard was burned, nor
on the night before it. I slept in my father's barn, with Flanagan; both
times at his own request but I did not then suspect his design in asking
me."

"This admission, though creditable to your affection and filial duty,
was indiscreet," observed the judge. "Whatever you think might be
serviceable, suggest to your attorney, who can communicate it to your
counsel."

"My lord," said Connor, "I could not see my father punished for loving
me as he does an' besides I have no wish to conceal anything. If the
whole truth could be known I would stand but a short time where I an nor
would Flanagan be long out of it."

There is an earnest and impressive tone in truth, especially when
spoken under circumstances of great difficulty, where it is rather
disadvantageous to him who utters it, that in many instances produces
conviction by an inherent candor which all feel, without as process
of reasoning or argument. Theis was in those few words a warmth of
affection towards his father, and a manly simplicity heart, each of
which was duly appreciated by the assembly about him, who felt, without
knowing why, the indignant scorn of falsehood that so emphatically
pervaded his expressions. It was indeed impossible to hear them, and
look upon his noble countenance and figure, without forgetting the
humbleness of his rank in life, and feeling for him a marked deference
and respect.

The trial then proceeded; but, alas! the hopes of Connor's friends
abandoned them at its conclusion; for although the judge's charge was
as favorable as the nature of the evidence permitted, yet it was quite
clear that the jury had only one course to pursue, and that was to
bring in a conviction. After the lapse of about ten minutes, t