one man to George Preston. "Thine
was the most damning evidence of th' lot."

Preston's face was pale as ashes. He could scarcely speak. "I
couldn't help it," he said.

"Nay, I suppose not. But it seemed to me that every answer tha gave
was another strand in the rope which shall hang him."

"God knows," said Preston, "if I could have answered in any other way
than I did I would have done so."

"Then tha doesna believe he did it?"

"I don't know what to believe. I know he hated Wilson. I know they've
been at daggers drawn for years, but I can't believe that Paul did it
that way. He isn't that kind of man. Besides, it doesn't stand to
reason that he should have taken the knife that was known to be his to
do such work."

"That's where I'm stalled."

"And yet, what could I do? As far as I know, nobody did go into the
office, and nobody could take it without his knowing."

"We've noan heard the last on it yet. Things'll come to light."

"Ay," whispered another man in another part of the room. "'He that
hateth his brother is a murderer'--that's Scripture, ain't it? And
Paul hated Wilson. Besides, he had no faith in owt. He believed in
neither God nor devil. Ay, it's a sad thing when a chap's given up
faith in religion."

And so men talked, while many shook their heads and wondered. Many did
not believe in his guilt, and yet when the question was asked as to who
could be guilty if not he, no reply was given.

"He'll have a weary Christmas," remarked an old weaver as the prison
van went towards the station. "I wish I could send him summat to make
it a bit brighter, but what can us do?"

"At ony rate, we can pray for his soul."

A little later Paul was brought back to Brunford again. He had to
appear a second time before the magistrates, who, after another
examination, committed him for trial to the Manchester Assizes.

"What'll happen to him now?" asked someone after the committal.

"He'll have to stay in Strangeways Gaol in Manchester until the Assizes
are held," was the reply.

"When will that be?"

"It may be weeks; it may be months. But I expect it'll be held
somewhere about the end of January." It was a young lawyer who said
this, who was hoping that the trial would mean some work for him.

"Poor Paul!" was the response. "I wonder how his mother is takin' it?"

CHAPTER XVI

AWAITING THE TRIAL

Of course, the newspapers were full of the accounts of the murder of
young