"Now, then, tell us what you know of this case," said the clerk.

"What I know ob dis case? Why, in de fus' place, I know how my lordship dere--and a perty lordship he is--and de oder shamwally, which I don't see here present, and dat whited saltpeter, ought ebery single one ob dem to be hung up as high as Harem. Dere! dat what I know; and I hope you'll do it, ole marse!" said Katie vindictively.

"Whisht, whisht, my good woman! Ye are no here to pronounce judgment, but to gi'e testimony. Confine yoursel' to the facts!"

said the magistrate.

But this order was more easily made than obeyed. It was very difficult for Katie to confine herself to the statement of facts, for the reason that she seemed to imagine herself prosecutor, witness, judge, jury, and executioner all rolled into one. It took all the tact of the clerk to get from her what could be received as purely legal evidence.

Katie's testimony would be nothing new to the reader. Her statement under oath to the magistrate was the same in effect that she had made to Judge Merlin. And although it was rather a rambling narrative, mixed up with a good deal of bitter invective against the accused, and gratuitous advice to the bench, and acute suggestions of the manner of retribution that ought to be measured out to the culprits, yet still the shrewd magistrate managed to get from it a tolerably clear idea of the nature of the conspiracy formed against the honor of Lady Vincent and the motive for the abduction of the negroes. And although the counsel for the accused labored hard to get this evidence set aside, it was accepted as good.

"James Mortimer," called the clerk.

And Jim walked forward and stood respectfully waiting to be examined.

The clerk, after putting the same questions to Jim that he had put to Jim's mother, and receiving the most satisfactory answers, administered the usual oath and proceeded with the examination.

Jim said he was the son of the last witness, and he corroborated the statements made by her, as far as his own personal experience corresponded with hers. And although he was severely cross-examined, he never varied from his first story, and his testimony was held good.

"Sarah Sims," was the next called.

And Sally advanced modestly and stood respectfully before the magistrate.

Having satisfactorily answered the preliminary questions that were put to her, she took the prescribed oath with a deep reverence of manner that prepossessed everyone, except the accused and their counsel, in her favor.

And then she gave her testimony in a clear, simple, concise manner, that met the approval of all who heard her. The counsel for the accused cross-examined her with ingenuity, but without success.

Sally's testimony was decidedly the most conclusive of any given by the three negroes. And she was allowed to sit down.

Then the counsel for the accused arose and made a speech, in which he ingeniously sought to do away with the effect of all the evidence that had been given in against the prisoners. He took exception to Ishmael's evidence because Mr. Worth had declined to give it under oath; to Judge Merlin's, because, he said, that ancient man was so well stricken with years as to be falling into his dotage; to old Katie's, because most decidedly he declared she was totally unreliable, being half monkey, half maniac, and whole knave; to Jim's, because he averred him to be wholly under the influence of others; to Sally's, for the same reason. It would be monstrous, he said, to send a nobleman and a lady to trial upon such evidence as had been given in by such witnesses as had appeared there. And he ended by demanding that his clients should be instantly and honorably discharged from custody, and particularly that they should not be remanded.

And he sat down.

"Dinna ye fash yersel', laddie! I hae na the least intention to remaund the accused. I s'all commit them for trial," said the magistrate. Then looking down upon his clerk, he said:

"Ross, mon, mak' out the warrants."

A perfect storm of remonstrance, strange to witness in a magistrate's office, arose. The lawyer sprang upon his feet and vehemently opposed the committal. Lord Vincent indignantly exclaimed against the outrage of sending a nobleman of the house of Hurstmonceux to trial. Faustina went into hysterics, and was attended by Mrs. MacDonald.

Meanwhile the clerk coolly made out the warrants and placed them in the hands of McRae for execution. That prompt policeman proceeded to take possession of his prisoners. But the storm increased; Faustina's screams awoke the welkin; Lord Vincent's loud denunciation accompanied her in bass keys; the lawyer's wild expostulations and gesticulations arose above all.

Sir Alexander had borne all this tempestuous opposition very patiently at first; but the patience of the most long-suffering man may give out. Sir Alexander's did.

"McRae, remove the prisoners. And, laddie," he said to the denunciatory lawyer, "gin ye dinna haud your tongue, I'll commit yoursel' for contempt!"

Lord Vincent, seeing that all opposition must be worse than vain, quietly yielded the point and followed his conductor. But Faustina's animal nature got the ascendency, and she resisted, fought and screamed like a wildcat. It took half a dozen policemen to put her into the carriage, and then the handcuffs had to be put on her.

As soon as quiet was restored another case was called on. It was that of Frisbie, the ex-valet, charged with the murder of Ailsie Dunbar.

CHAPTER XLVI

THE FATE OF THE VISCOUNT.

Oh, vanity of youthful blood, So by misuse to poison good.

Reason awakes and views unbarred The sacred gates she wished to guard, Sees approach the harpy law, And Nemesis beholds with awe, Ready to seize the poor remains That vice has left of all his gains.

Cold penitence, lame after-thought, With fear, despair, and horror fraught, Call back the guilty pleasures dead, Whom he has robbed and whom betrayed!

--Bishop Hoadley.

When the carriage containing the prisoners reached the jail, they were taken out to be conducted to the warden's office. The viscount, who was in a mood of suppressed fury, was attended by Policeman McRae and followed by old Cuthbert, broken-hearted by the dishonor of his master.

Faustina, who had raged herself into a state of exhaustion and consequently of quietude, was attended by policeman Christie and supported by Mrs. MacDonald who tenderly soothed and flattered her.

It was a busy day in the warden's office, and the warden had but little time to bestow on these interesting prisoners.

"And sae they ha'e committed ye for trial, me laird, mair's the pity; and the puir lassie too; me heart is sair for her," said Auld Saundie Gra'ame, as they were led up to his desk to have their names re-entered upon the prison-books.

"It was a most unwarrantable proceeding! a monstrous abuse of office! an outrage that should be punished by immediate impeachment!" burst forth the viscount, in a fury.

"As to that, me laird, I ha'e never yet seen the prisoner enter these wa's wi' ony verra great esteem for the authorities that sent him here," dryly replied Auld Saundie.

Then turning to an under-warden he said:

"Ye'll convey the prisoners back to the cells occupied by them before."

And Faustina was carried back to the woman's ward, followed by the sympathizing Mrs. MacDonald, who promised to remain with her until the hour of closing up.

And the viscount, attended by Cuthbert, was conducted to his corner cell, there to abide until the day of trial.

Old Cuthbert remained with his master until he was summoned to drive Mrs. MacDonald back to the castle.

Several days passed. Every morning Mrs. MacDonald, driven by Cuthbert in the family carriage, came to town, to spend the day in the cell with Faustina, while Cuthbert remained in attendance upon the viscount. And every evening she returned to the castle.

The Earl of Hurstmonceux did not come. But news at length came of him. His bankers wrote that he was out on his yacht, his exact latitude being unknown.

Lord Vincent, now that he was fully committed for trial, really did not seem to be anxious for his father's return. Perhaps he would rather not have met the earl under the present circumstances. He held daily consultations with his counsel. These were entirely confidential. Being assured by Mr. Bruce that it was essentially necessary the counsel should be in possession of all the facts, the prisoner made a tolerably clean breast of it, at least so far as the abduction of the negroes was concerned; he exercised some little reticence in the matters of his relations with Faustina and his conspiracy against Lady Vincent.

Mr. Brace of course put the fairest construction upon everything; but still he could not help feeling the darkest misgivings as to the result of the approaching trial. And the viscount, rendered keenly observant by intense anxiety, detected these doubts in the mind of his counsel, and became daily more despairing.

He looked forward to the dishonor of a public trial with burning indignation; to the possible, nay probable, conviction and sentence that might follow with shrinking dread, and to the execution of that sentence with stony horror.

Penal servitude! Great Heaven! penal servitude for him, so high- born, so fastidious, so luxurious in all his habits! Penal servitude for him, the Viscount Vincent!

He had often made one of a party of sight-seers, visiting the prisons, the hulks, the quarries, where the prisoners were confined at work. He had seen them in the coarse prison garb, working in chains, under the broiling sun of summer, and under the bitter cold of winter. He had seen them at their loathsome meals and in their stifling sleeping pens. He had gazed upon them with eyes of haughty, cold, unsympathizing curiosity. To him and his friends they formed but a spectacle of interest or amusement, like a drama.

And now to think that he might, nay, probably would, soon make one of their shameful number! The Viscount Vincent working in chains; gazed at by his former companions; pointed out to curious strangers!