hreatened by
those laws against which I never had offended. The man who last
addressed you has told you that I am the pirate-captain's son; it is the
assertion of the only irreclaimable and utterly remorseless villain
among those who now stand before you to be judged--the assertion of one
whose glory, whose joy, whose solace has been blood-shedding.

"My lord, I had it from the mouth of the captain himself, previous to
his murder by that man, that I was not his son. His son! thank God, not
so. Connected with him and in his power I was, most certainly and most
incomprehensibly. Before he died, he delivered me a packet that would
have told me who I am; but I have lost it, and deeply have I felt the
loss. One only fact I gained from him whom they would call my father,
which is, that with his own hand he slew--yes, basely slew--my mother."

The address of Francisco was here interrupted by a low deep groan of
anguish, which startled the whole audience. It was now quite dark, and
the judge ordered the court to be lighted previous to the defence being
continued. The impatience and anxiety of those present were shown in
low murmurs of communication until the lights were brought in. The word
"Silence!" from the judge produced an immediate obedience, and the
prisoner was ordered to proceed.

Francisco then continued his address, commencing with the remembrances
of his earliest childhood. As he warmed with his subject, he became
more eloquent; his action became energetical without violence; and the
pallid and modest youth gradually grew into the impassioned and inspired
orator. He recapitulated rapidly, yet distinctly and with terrible
force, all the startling events in his fearful life. There was truth in
the tones of his voice, there was conviction in his animated
countenance, there was innocence in his open and expressive brow.

All who heard believed; and scarcely had he concluded his address, when
the jury appeared impatient to rise and give their verdict in his
favour. But the judge stood up, and, addressing the jury, told them
that it was his most painful duty to remind them that as yet they had
heard but assertion, beautiful and almost convincing assertion truly;
but still it was not proof.

"Alas!" observed Francisco, "what evidence can I bring forward, except
the evidence of those around me at the bar, which will not be admitted?
Can I recall the dead from the grave? Can I expect those who have been
mur