hey both
made their appearance.

Mrs Rushbrook, who had been counselled by her husband, was the first
examined; but she would not answer any question put to her. She did
nothing but weep; and to every question her only reply was, "If he did
kill him, it was by accident; my boy would never commit murder."
Nothing more was to be obtained from her; and the magistrates were so
moved by her distress, that she was dismissed.

Rushbrook trembled as he was brought in and saw the body laid out on the
table; but he soon recovered himself, and became nerved and resolute, as
people often will do in extremity. He had made up his mind to answer
some questions, but not all.

"Do you know at what time your son left the cottage?"

"I do not."

"Does that gun belong to you?"

"Yes, it is mine."

"Do you know that bag?"

"Yes, it belongs to me."

"It has been used for putting game into--has it not?"

"I shall not answer that question. I'm not on trial."

Many other questions were put to him, but he refused to answer them; and
as they would all more or less have criminated himself as a poacher, his
refusals were admitted. Rushbrook had played his game well in admitting
the gun and bag to be his property, as it was of service to him, and no
harm to Joey. After summing up the whole evidence, the coroner
addressed the jury, and they returned a unanimous verdict of Wilful
Murder against Joseph Rushbrook the younger; and the magistrates
directed the sum of 200 pounds to be offered for our hero's
apprehension.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED.

Rushbrook and Jane returned to their cottage. Jane closed the door, and
threw herself into her husband's arms. "You are saved at least," she
cried: "thank Heaven for that! You are spared. Alas! we do not know
how much we love till anger comes upon us."

Rushbrook was much affected: he loved his wife, and had good reason to
love her. Jane was a beautiful woman, not yet thirty; tall in her
person, her head was finely formed, yet apparently small for her height
her features were full of expression and sweetness. Had she been born
to a high station, she would have been considered one of the greatest
belles. As it was, she was loved by those around her; and there was a
dignity and commanding air about her which won admiration and respect.
No one could feel more deeply than she did the enormity of the offence
committed by her husband; and yet never in