m. It's a clear case."

"To be sure!" exclaimed two or three of the women. "Didn't Robert find
you here, standin' by the dead body of his uncle?"

The hermit turned to our hero, who stood a little in the background, and
said quietly:

"Robert, do you think I killed your uncle?"

"I am sure you didn't," said Robert, manfully meeting the angry glances
which were now cast upon him.

"I am glad to have one friend here," said the hermit--"one who judges me
better than the rest of my neighbors."

"He doesn't know anything about you and he's only a boy!" said Mrs.
Scott, thrusting herself forward with arms akimbo. "I allus said there
was something wrong about you or you wouldn't hide yourself away from
the sight of men in a cave. Like as not you've committed murder
before!"

"My good woman," said the hermit with a sad smile, "I am sorry you have
so poor an opinion of me."

"Don't you call me good woman!" said Mrs. Scott, provoked. "I'm no more
a good woman than yourself! I tell you, friends and neighbors, you'll do
wrong if you let this man go. We may all be murdered in our beds!"

She was interrupted by the arrival of Mrs. Trafton, who had not been
apprised of the tragedy from considerations for her feelings, but
hearing the stir and excitement, had followed her neighbors to the spot
and just ascertain what had happened.

"Where is my husband?" she cried.

All made way for her, feeling that hers was the foremost place, and she
stood with startled gaze before her dead husband. Ill as he had provided
for her and unworthy of her affections as he had proved, at that moment
she forgot all but that the husband of her youth lay before her, bereft
of life, and she kneeled, sobbing, at his side.

The hermit took off his hat and stood reverently by her side.

"Oh, John!" she sobbed, "I never thought it would come to this! Who
could have had the heart to kill you?"

"That's the man! He murdered him!" said Mrs. Scott harshly, pointing to
the hermit.

The widow lifted her eyes to the man of whom she had heard so much from
Robert with a glance of incredulity.

He was too proud to defend himself from the coarse accusation and
returned her look with a glance of sympathy and compassion.

"I never can believe that!" said the widow in utter incredulity. "He has
been kind to my boy. He never would lift his hand against my husband!"

The hermit looked deeply gratified.

"Mrs. Trafton," he said, "you are right. I had no cau