would spare him the
pain of continuing; but Roland never spoke.

"The inquest has completed its labors," said Goring, with increasing
agitation; "and the verdict is one of 'wilful murder.'"

"It was a foul and terrible crime," said Cashel, shuddering; "the poor
fellow was animated with kind intentions and benevolent views towards
the people. In all our intercourse he displayed but one spirit--"

"Have a care, sir," said Goring, mildly. "It is just possible that, in
the frankness of the moment something may escape you which hereafter you
might wish unsaid; and standing in the position you now do--"

"How so? What position, sir, do I occupy, that should preclude me from
the open expression of my sentiments?"

"I have already told you, sir, that the verdict of the jury was wilful
murder, and I hold here in my hand the warrant for your arrest."

"As the criminal? as the murderer?" cried Cashel, with a voice almost
like a shriek of agony. Goring bowed his head, and Roland fell powerless
on the floor.

Summoning others to his aid, Goring succeeded in lifting him up and
placing him on a bed. A few drops of blood that issued from his mouth,
and his heavy snoring respiration, indicated an apoplectic seizure.
Messengers were sent in various directions to fetch a doctor. Tiernay
was absent, and it was some hours ere one could be found. Large bleeding
and quiet produced the usual effects, and towards evening Cashel's
consciousness had returned; but memory was still clouded and incoherent,
and he lay without speaking, and almost without thought.

After the lapse of about a week he was able to leave his bed and creep
about his chamber, whose altered look contributed to recall his mind to
the past. All his papers and letters had been removed; the window was
secured with iron stanchions; and policemen stood sentry at the door. He
remembered everything that had occurred, and sat down in patient thought
to consider what he should do.

He learned without surprise, but not without a pang, that of all his
friends not one had remained,--not one had offered a word of counsel
in his affliction, or of comfort in his distress. He asked after
Mr. Corrigan, and heard that he had quitted the country, with his
granddaughter, on the day before the terrible event. Tiernay, it was
said, had accompanied them to Dublin, and not since returned. Roland
was, then, utterly friendless! What wonder if he became as utterly
reckless, as indifferent to