t-boat would be back. The boatmen did not know; it might be twelve
hours, it might be two days. A chance yet remained, but she could no
longer hope. When she reached the landing-place, faint and penniless,
one of the boatmen took her to his home, and there she sat sleeplessly
awaiting the dawn of the day of trial.

When she entered the witness-box next day, the whole court reeled before
her, save two figures only--that of the judge and that of the prisoner.
Jem sat silent--he had held his peace ever since his arrest--with his
face bowed on his hands.

Mary answered a few questions with a sort of wonder at the reality of
the terrible circumstances in which she was placed.

"And pray, may I ask, which was the favoured lover?" went on the
barrister.

A look of indignation for an instant contracted Mary's brow. She was
aware that Jem had raised his head and was gazing at her. Turning
towards the judge, she said steadily, "Perhaps I liked Mr. Harry Carson
once; but I loved James Wilson beyond what tongue can tell. When he
asked me to marry him, I was very hard in my answer; but he'd not been
gone out of my sight above a minute before I knew I loved him--far above
my life."

After these words the prisoner's head was no longer bowed. He stood
erect and firm, with self-respect in his attitude; yet he seemed lost in
thought.

But Will Wilson did not come, and the evidence against Jem grew stronger
and stronger. Mary was flushed and anxious, muttering to herself in a
wild, restless manner. Job Legh heard her repeat again and again, "I
must not go mad; I must not!"

Suddenly she threw up her arms and shrieked aloud: "Oh, Jem! Jem! You're
saved! and I am mad!" and was carried out of court stiff and convulsed.
And as they bore her off, a sailor forced his way over rails and seats,
through turnkeys and policemen. Will Wilson had come in time.

He told his tale clearly and distinctly; the efforts of the prosecution
to shake him were useless. "Not guilty" was the verdict that thrilled
through the breathless court. One man sank back in his seat in sickening
despair. The vengeance that old Mr. Carson had longed to compass for the
murder of his beloved boy was thwarted; he had been cheated of the
desire that now ruled his life--the desire of blood for blood.

_V.--"Forgive Us Our Trespasses_"

For many days Mary hovered between life and death, and it was long ere
she could make the journey back to Manchester under the tend