the thirty-first
of October ultimo, feloniously break into the chamber of Rosa Blondelle,
then residing at Black Hall, in the county of Blank, and there did
unlawfully and maliciously stab, kill, and murder the said Rosa
Blondelle, etc., etc., etc.

During the reading of this indictment, charging her with a crime at once
so base and so atrocious, Sybil's emotions were all revolutionized. No
longer unmerited shame and terror had power to bend her soul. The fiery
spirit of her race arose within her; the "burning blood" boiled in her
veins; a fierce indignation flashed from her dark eyes, like lightning
from a midnight cloud; bitter scorn curled her beautiful lips.

When told to stand up, to hold up her hand, and to answer whether she
were guilty or not guilty of the felony laid to her charge, she answered
haughtily:

"Not guilty, of course, as every one here knows, or should know. No more
guilty than were many of the queens and princesses of old, who were
martyred for crimes that we in these days know they never committed."

She had exceeded the forms of law, and said more than was necessary; but
her heart was on fire, and she could not help it; and no one interrupted
her.

"How will you be tried?" proceeded the clerk of arraigns, trying to
avoid the beautiful, terrible eyes that were gazing on him.

"By God and--my peers, if indeed I have any peers here," answered this
arrogant young Berners, sweeping her full eyes scornfully over the
rustic occupants of the jury box, and then resuming her seat.

Her words and manner did her no good; their only effect upon the jury
was to convince them that Mrs. Berners had inherited all the furious
passions of her forefathers, and that she was an excessively
high-tempered and high-spirited young lady, quite capable of doing a
very rash deed.

"Patience, patience, my dearest one," whispered her husband, as he
passed his arm behind her.

"I cannot be patient or prudent, Lyon, under such insults. I cannot, if
they kill me," she fiercely whispered back.

"Hush, hush," he said, softly patting her shoulder.

And then both became quiet, while the business of the trial proceeded.

The State's Attorney, Charles Coldman, took the bill of indictment from
the hand of the clerk, and proceeded to open the case. Mr. Coldman was
not the friend of the accused, neither was he her enemy. He did not
belong to the old aristocracy of the State, neither had he distinguished
himself in any mann