se singular events. The body was reverently laid
out in the hall, whilst the magistrate, summoning some of his officials,
and accompanied by the clergyman and one or two of the fishermen,
proceeded to the cottage of David Bain.

The bell-man was not at home, having gone, they said, "to Mr. Comyn's,
to inquire about his lodger, Mr. Bruce, who had not come home to his bed
the night before, as was customary."

Strange glances passed between the auditors; but a sign from the
magistrate imposed silence, and they departed, determining to survey the
Nut-hole, near which, in the river, the body had been found in the nets,
after which they had no doubt they would find the sexton at the manse.
As they threaded the thicket of hazel, at some distance from the pool,
one of the salmon-fishers declared, that from a plot of white-thorn and
bramble-bushes he had seen the eyes of a foumart or polecat glare out
upon him; and in a low voice, directing the attention of a comrade to
the spot, they both imagined they could detect the figure of a man
crouching among the trailing shrubs. Whispering their suspicion to Mr.
Craigie, he ordered the whole party to join quietly in a search, and
follow him and the minister to the Nut-hole. Thither, then, the
magistrate, attended only by Mr. Comyn, proceeded; and who, think ye,
found they there?

A young man, handsome and well-dressed, in the undisguised apparel of a
gentleman, stood there, evidently unconscious of the advancing twain. He
held a stout, club-like stick in his hand, which he was examining
intently--for it was covered with blood, now dried, and amidst which
stuck clots of hair! As the gentlemen came suddenly upon him he started,
and dropped the stick; whilst Mr. Comyn, staring at him in wonder, for,
as we have said, all disguise had been discarded, exclaimed--

"John Percival, is this you?"

A question which the young man could have answered in the affirmative
with strict veracity, but for the assertion from the magistrate which
followed it up.

"And you, sir, are the murderer of Mr. Bruce!"

"Good God! what do you mean!" cried the horrified youth.

"That stick, which you have just dropped, is covered with blood," said
Mr. Craigie; "a foul murder has been committed, and we find you with the
supposed instrument of that murder, near the very spot where there is
ground to believe the act was perpetrated."

A fearful pang shot through Percival's frame, but conscious innocence
made