misfortune is doubly hard to us; we have not only
lost that lovely darling boy, but this poor girl, whom I sincerely
love, is to be torn away by even a worse fate. If she is condemned, I
never shall know joy more. But she will not, I am sure she will not;
and then I shall be happy again, even after the sad death of my little
William."

"She is innocent, my Elizabeth," said I, "and that shall be proved;
fear nothing, but let your spirits be cheered by the assurance of her
acquittal."

"How kind and generous you are! every one else believes in her guilt,
and that made me wretched, for I knew that it was impossible: and to
see every one else prejudiced in so deadly a manner rendered me
hopeless and despairing." She wept.

"Dearest niece," said my father, "dry your tears. If she is, as you
believe, innocent, rely on the justice of our laws, and the activity
with which I shall prevent the slightest shadow of partiality."

Chapter 8

We passed a few sad hours until eleven o'clock, when the trial was to
commence. My father and the rest of the family being obliged to attend
as witnesses, I accompanied them to the court. During the whole of
this wretched mockery of justice I suffered living torture. It was to
be decided whether the result of my curiosity and lawless devices would
cause the death of two of my fellow beings: one a smiling babe full of
innocence and joy, the other far more dreadfully murdered, with every
aggravation of infamy that could make the murder memorable in horror.
Justine also was a girl of merit and possessed qualities which promised
to render her life happy; now all was to be obliterated in an
ignominious grave, and I the cause! A thousand times rather would I
have confessed myself guilty of the crime ascribed to Justine, but I
was absent when it was committed, and such a declaration would have
been considered as the ravings of a madman and would not have
exculpated her who suffered through me.

The appearance of Justine was calm. She was dressed in mourning, and
her countenance, always engaging, was rendered, by the solemnity of her
feelings, exquisitely beautiful. Yet she appeared confident in
innocence and did not tremble, although gazed on and execrated by
thousands, for all the kindness which her beauty might otherwise have
excited was obliterated in the minds of the spectators by the
imagination of the enormity she was supposed to have committed. She
was tranquil, yet her t