e was no reasoning, no weighing of the issue in his mind. His
course was fixed by the eternal Institution of God. There was nothing
to be determined, nothing to be argued. He was caught between the
greater and the lesser law and he could only stand and be ground
between the working of the two.

If he had reasoned he would have said that Almighty God had ordained
the salvation of men through the confession of sin. Therefore the
salvation of men depended on the inviolability of the seal of the
confessional. But he did not reason. He merely sat through his
torture, waiting.

When his name was called, he walked heavily forward and took his place
standing beside the chair that was set for him.

At Dardis' question, the Bishop began to speak freely and rapidly. He
told of the coming of Jeffrey Whiting to him for advice. He repeated
what he had said to the boy, and from that point went on to sketch the
things that had been happening in the hills. He wanted to get clearly
before the minds of the jurymen the fact that he had advised and
directed Jeffrey Whiting in everything that the boy had done.

The Judge was loath to show any open discourtesy to the Bishop. But he
saw that he must stop him. His story could not but have a powerful
effect upon even this jury. Looking past the Bishop and addressing
Dardis, he said:

"Is this testimony pertinent?"

"It is, if Your Honor pardon me," said the Bishop, turning quickly.
"It goes to prove that Jeffrey Whiting could not have committed the
crime charged, any more than I could have done so."

The Bishop did not stop to consider carefully the logic or the legal
phraseology of his answer. He hurried on with his story to the jury.
He related his message from Albany to Jeffrey Whiting. He told of his
ride into the hills. He told of the capture of the two men in the
night at French Village. They should be here now as witnesses. They
had escaped. But he held in his hand a written confession, written and
sealed by a justice of the peace, made by the two men. He would read
this to the jury.

He began reading rapidly. But before he had gotten much past the
opening sentences, the Judge saw that this would not do. It was the
story of the plan to set the fire, and it must not be read in court.

He rapped sharply with his gavel, and when the Bishop stopped, he
asked:

"Is the murder of Samuel Rogers mentioned in that paper?"

"No, Your Honor. But there are--"

"It is irrelevant," inte