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feeling against him; and far and wide, through town and country, with all
that could excite public animosity, rang that bloody tale, (for the dead
man had powerful friends to battle for vengeance.) It was in every mouth,
and whispered in every ear. In the broad glare of day, and before the eyes
of the whole world, was paraded every secret of Rust's life. Witnesses who
had been forgotten and had sunk from sight, and were supposed to be dead,
sprang into life, all having some dark deed to record. Pamphlets, teeming
with exaggerated details of the murder, were hawked through the streets;
peddled at every corner; hung in every shop window. Rust's own black life
had prejudged him, and had turned public opinion into public hate; until
every voice called out for blood. It was under this feeling that his trial
came on.

Early on that morning, long before the court was opened, a stream of
people was thronging toward the City Hall by twenties and thirties and
hundreds. The iron gates were barred to keep them out; still they
contrived to get in, and swarmed through the halls. And when the court was
opened, officers armed with staves were stationed on the stairs, to fight
them down, for there was no room for them. The court-room was crammed with
men heaped upon men, climbing one on the other; heads upon heads, swarming
like bees, and packed and wedged together, leaving not a foot to spare.
And in the midst of all that living mass sat Rust, unmoved, unflinching;
returning look for look, defiance for defiance; reckless as to his fate,
but resolute not to yield.

There was one however at that trial who was not so indifferent. He was a
man of about fifty, tall and thin, with a grave, dignified face, which yet
bore a strong resemblance to that of Rust. He was deadly pale, and sat
next to Rust's lawyers, conversing with them in a low earnest tone; and at
times, as the trial went on, suggesting questions to them. This was Rust's
brother; the father of the two children, who, generous to the last, had
forgiven all, and was battling for the life of him who had done his utmost
to blast his. If Rust's cold eye sank, or his spirit quailed, it was only
when he encountered the mild, sad eye of that brother.

The jury was empanelled. The District Attorney opened for the prosecution;
and then the examination of witnesses commenced. Foot by foot and inch by
inch was the ground contested by Rust's counsel. Exceptions to testimony
were taken, poin