, searchingly. "And I can trust you, Paul?"
She seemed on the point of telling him something--something which he
was afraid to hear. So he went on hastily:

"Of course you can. You must fear nothing, absolutely nothing; and you
have nothing to do, nothing to say. Yes, it will be awful for you, for
they will be sure to bring you as a witness, but that's your line."

"Yes, I understand, Paul. You can trust me. Perhaps they will not
bring me at all."

"I hope, I hope---- No, it's all right; nothing will be said."

When they parted a little later, Paul thought his senses were leaving
him. He understood nothing, except that he was in a cell in
Strangeways Gaol, awaiting his trial for murder.

Presently the news came to him that the assizes had commenced, but when
his own trial would come on no one seemed to know. He still refused
all offers of defence. The truth was, he dared not open his heart to
any lawyer. He saw that if he were to allow anyone to defend him, he
must of necessity give them a certain amount of confidence. He must
trust them. That he could not afford to do. He was not afraid to die,
and at least he had courage enough to be silent.

Presently the news reached him that he was to be brought to the bar of
judgment on the following day, but still he refused all offers of
defence. He gave no reason for this; indeed, he became more and more
grimly silent than ever. He simply shook his head when those who
pretended to wish him well pleaded that they might be allowed to appear
for his defence.

On the night before his trial, therefore, he sat in his cell alone.
The day had been black and grimy, and not a shadow of sunshine
penetrated the gloom. Perhaps there is no town in England which looks
more grey and sordid than Manchester does in the dead of the winter.
The streets are covered with black, slimy mud; the atmosphere is dank
and smoke-laden; the houses are grey and enveloped in gloom; even the
crowds which throng its streets seem oppressed by the grime-laden air.
And Strangeways Gaol is perhaps the most forbidding place in the whole
of this great northern metropolis. As someone has said; "Manchester is
one of the best places in the world to get out of." Of course, there's
another side to that; it is a city full of strong, clear-headed,
progressive people. On the whole, too, there are but few people in the
world more loyal and more kind-hearted than those in what a great
divine used to