ed life; which had ended by
the former saying:

"If anyone had ever told me before, Mary, that you were a
vindictive woman, I should have knocked him down. I might do so
now, but I should know in my heart that he had spoken truly. For
some reason or other you took a prejudice against that boy, and you
never forgave his mother for standing up in his defence. I was
shocked, downright shocked, when you gave your evidence in court."

Mrs. Ellison had been too much offended to reply, and the rest of
the drive had been passed in silence. Upon their return home the
girls were full of eager questions, but the squire said shortly:

"My dears, the less we talk about it, the better. Your mother and I
differ entirely on the subject. She believes that Reuben Whitney is
guilty. I am absolutely convinced he is innocent. Therefore, if you
please, we will not discuss it."

The following morning Kate Ellison went down to the school house.

"Mr. Shrewsbury," she said, putting her head in at the door, "could
you come out for two or three minutes? I want particularly to speak
to you.

"Have you heard what took place yesterday, at Lewes?" she asked
when he came out.

"Yes, Miss Ellison. I saw Jones the constable last night, and he
told me all that had been said in court."

"And you think Reuben Whitney is innocent?" she asked eagerly.

"I am quite sure of it, Miss Ellison--as sure as I am of my own
existence. For anyone who knows him to have a doubt is absolutely
absurd. A finer young fellow than Reuben it would be hard to find."

"But what did he say? How did he account for his tools being found
there?"

The schoolmaster repeated the account Reuben had given, and said:

"When the trial comes off I shall, of course, go over; and testify
both as to his general conduct and to the fact that he had, as he
said, promised to bring over his tools to put up some shelves in my
cupboards."

"Do you think he will get off, Mr. Shrewsbury?" she asked
anxiously.

"I should hope so, Miss Ellison, but I can't disguise from myself
that it is by no means certain. That unfortunate old business about
the dog will tell terribly against him; and though I am perfectly
sure that his account of what took place is correct, there is
nothing to confirm it. It is just the sort of story, they will say,
that he would naturally get up to account for his absence, and for
the tools being found. Of course, if the jury knew him as well as I
do the result wo