my mother, which
had been judged to be the temptation of the murderer. The servant
instantly showed it to one of the others, who, without saying a word to
any of the family, went to a magistrate; and, upon their deposition,
Justine was apprehended. On being charged with the fact, the poor girl
confirmed the suspicion in a great measure by her extreme confusion of
manner.

This was a strange tale, but it did not shake my faith; and I replied
earnestly, "You are all mistaken; I know the murderer. Justine, poor,
good Justine, is innocent."

At that instant my father entered. I saw unhappiness deeply impressed
on his countenance, but he endeavoured to welcome me cheerfully; and,
after we had exchanged our mournful greeting, would have introduced
some other topic than that of our disaster, had not Ernest exclaimed,
"Good God, papa! Victor says that he knows who was the murderer of
poor William."

"We do also, unfortunately," replied my father, "for indeed I had
rather have been for ever ignorant than have discovered so much
depravity and ungratitude in one I valued so highly."

"My dear father, you are mistaken; Justine is innocent."

"If she is, God forbid that she should suffer as guilty. She is to be
tried today, and I hope, I sincerely hope, that she will be acquitted."

This speech calmed me. I was firmly convinced in my own mind that
Justine, and indeed every human being, was guiltless of this murder. I
had no fear, therefore, that any circumstantial evidence could be
brought forward strong enough to convict her. My tale was not one to
announce publicly; its astounding horror would be looked upon as
madness by the vulgar. Did any one indeed exist, except I, the
creator, who would believe, unless his senses convinced him, in the
existence of the living monument of presumption and rash ignorance
which I had let loose upon the world?

We were soon joined by Elizabeth. Time had altered her since I last
beheld her; it had endowed her with loveliness surpassing the beauty of
her childish years. There was the same candour, the same vivacity, but
it was allied to an expression more full of sensibility and intellect.
She welcomed me with the greatest affection. "Your arrival, my dear
cousin," said she, "fills me with hope. You perhaps will find some
means to justify my poor guiltless Justine. Alas! who is safe, if she
be convicted of crime? I rely on her innocence as certainly as I do
upon my own. Our