udge,
"makes apology for our intrusion unnecessary. We are here from duty, Mr.
Cashel, not inclination, still less caprice."

The solemnity of manner in which he spoke, and the grave faces around
him on every side, seemed to apprise Roland that bad tidings awaited
him, and he looked eagerly to each for an explanation. At length, as
none spoke, he said,--

"Will no one vouchsafe to put an end to this mystification? What, I
pray, is this event that has happened?"

"Mr. Kennyfeck has been murdered," said the judge.

Roland staggered backwards, and grasped a chair for support.
"When?--How?--Where?" said he, in a low voice, every accent of which
trembled.

"All as yet is hidden in mystery, sir. We know nothing beyond the fact
that his dead body was discovered in the Gap of Ennismore, and that a
pistol-shot had penetrated his brain." Sir Andrew grasped the weapon
more tightly as these words were uttered.

"You left this in his company, Mr. Cashel?" asked Goring.

"Yes; we set out at daybreak for Drumcoologan, where an affair of
business required our presence. We spent the whole of the day together,
and as evening drew nigh, and our business had not been completed, I
resolved to hasten back here, leaving him to follow whenever he could."

"You have been on the best terms together, I believe?" said Goring.

"Stay--I cannot permit this," interposed the Chief Justice,
authoritatively. "There must be nothing done here which is not
strictly honorable as well as legal. It is right that Mr. Cashel should
understand that when an event of this nature has occurred, no one,
however high his station, or umblemished his fame, can claim exemption
from that scrutiny which the course of justice demands; and the persons
latest in the company of the deceased are more peculiarly those exposed
to such inquiry. I would, therefore, caution him against answering any
questions here, which may be prejudicial hereafter."

"Do I understand you aright, my Lord?" said Cashel, whose whole frame
trembled with agitation as he spoke. "Do your words imply that I stand
here in the light of a suspected party?"

"I mean to say, sir," replied the judge, "that so long as doubt and
obscurity veil the history of a crime, the accusation hangs over the
community at large among whom it was enacted, and that those who were
last seen in the presence of the victim have the greatest obligation to
disconnect themselves with the sad event."

"But you stopped me