so rudely, I might almost say--as to suggest he had
some strong private reasons for disliking (perhaps for distrusting)
this lady. Here, again, it might be of vital importance to me to see Mr.
Dexter, and to clear up, if I could, what the dignity of the Court had
passed over without notice.

The last witness had been now examined. The chair on wheels glided away
with the half-man in it, and was lost in a distant corner of the Court.
The Lord Advocate rose to address the Jury for the prosecution.

I do not scruple to say that I never read anything so infamous as this
great lawyer's speech. He was not ashamed to declare, at starting, that
he firmly believed the prisoner to be guilty. What right had he to say
anything of the sort? Was it for _him_ to decide? Was he the Judge
and Jury both, I should like to know? Having begun by condemning the
prisoner on his own authority, the Lord Advocate proceeded to pervert
the most innocent actions of that unhappy man so as to give them as
vile an aspect as possible. Thus: When Eustace kissed his poor wife's
forehead on her death-bed, he did it to create a favorable impression in
the minds of the doctor and the nurse! Again, when his grief under his
bereavement completely overwhelmed him, he was triumphing in secret,
and acting a part! If you looked into his heart, you would see there
a diabolical hatred for his wife and an infatuated passion for Mrs.
Beauly! In everything he had said he had lied; in everything he had done
he had acted like a crafty and heartless wretch! So the chief counsel
for the prosecution spoke of the prisoner, standing helpless before him
at the Bar. In my husband's place, if I could have done nothing more,
I would have thrown something at his head. As it was, I tore the pages
which contained the speech for the prosecution out of the Report and
trampled them under my feet--and felt all the better too for having done
it. At the same time I feel a little ashamed of having revenged myself
on the harmless printed leaves now.

The fifth day of the Trial opened with the speech for the defense. Ah,
what a contrast to the infamies uttered by the Lord Advocate was
the grand burst of eloquence by the Dean of Faculty, speaking on my
husband's side!

This illustrious lawyer struck the right note at starting.

"I yield to no one," he began, "in the pity I feel for the wife. But
I say, the martyr in this case, from first to last, is the husband.
Whatever the poor woman