ddition he would call witnesses who would
testify to the good character of the accused, and prove that the great
esteem and confidence in which he had been held by his late master was
abundantly justified by the excellent character and blameless conduct of
the servant.

Mr. Kinlock then proceeded to call his witnesses.

They were the fellow-servants of the accused. Some of them were the very
same witnesses that had been called by the prosecution, and were now
re-called for the defence. One and all, in turn, testified to the uniform
good behavior of the valet while in the service of Sir Lemuel Levison,
deceased.

The presiding judge, Baron Stairs, summed up the evidence in a very few
words.

The evidence against the prisoner at the bar was circumstantial only. It
had appeared in evidence that some servant of the family had admitted the
assassin to the house. It did not appear who that servant was. The valet
John Potts, was the only one who had the pass-key to the apartments of
the deceased. That circumstance had fixed suspicion upon him; had brought
him to trial; the trial had brought out no new facts; the witness
principally relied on by the prosecution had not only failed to give any
testimony to convict the prisoner, but had certainly perjured herself to
shield the real criminal, whoever he was, and to accuse a noble
personage, whose high character and lofty station alike placed him
infinitely above suspicion. On the other hand, many witnesses had
testified to the good character and conduct of the prisoner, and the
estimation in which he had been held by his late master. Such was the
evidence, pro and con.

His lordship concluded by saying that the jury might now retire and
deliberate upon their verdict, remembering that in all cases of
uncertainty they should lean to the side of mercy.

The jury arose from their seats, and, conducted by a bailiff, retired to
the room provided for them.

Many of the people now left the court-room to get refreshments.

But as the judges remained upon the bench, the Duke of Hereward kept his
seat. He felt sure that the jury would not long deliberate before
bringing in their verdict.

Meanwhile he turned to glance at the prisoner.

John Potts looked like a man without a hope in the world. We have already
seen that an awful change had come over him since the day of his arrest,
three months before. Now, as he leaned forward where he sat, and rested
his head upon his skeleton h