She stooped very gently, however, and helped the poor creature to her feet; supporting the frail form between them, the mistress and maid walked on toward the house. "What threatens Leslie Dane's life?" inquired the old sibyl suddenly, as she walked between them with drooping head. "They are trying him for the murder of Mr. Arnold, more than three years ago, if you must know," said Lucy. "Is he innocent?" inquired the old creature in a faltering voice. "Innocent? Of course he is--as innocent as the angels," answered Lucy, "but he can never prove it unless me and Miss Bonnibel can get the witnesses at Brandon to prove an _alibi_ for him. So you see we are wasting time on you, old woman." "Yes, yes," faltered Wild Madge, humbly. "But where are they trying him, Lucy Moore?" "At Cape May Court House, old woman--and the evidence will be summed up to-day, the jurors will give their verdict. You see we must hurry, if we would save him." "Yes, yes; better to leave the old woman to die in the rain, and hurry on," whined the sick woman. "We are here now. We will leave you under shelter at least," Bonnibel answered gently. They led her in, and consigned her to the care of the wondering old housekeeper at Sea View, and went back to the shore. The _Bonnibel_, battered and worn, but still seaworthy, rocked at her moorings yet. They loosened the little craft, sprang in, Bonnibel took up the oars, and the little namesake shot swiftly forward through the rough waves to Brandon. CHAPTER XXXVIII. "Prisoner at the bar, have you anything to say why the sentence of death shall not be pronounced against you?" The solemn words of the judge echo through the crowded court-room, and the sea of human faces turn curiously and with one accord towards the spot where the prisoner sits with his friend, the handsome German artist, by his side, where he has remained throughout the trial. The case has excited much interest, for the murdered man had been widely known, and as for the man accused of the murder, his native land had but just commenced to hear of him as a son whose brow was crowned with laurels in the world of art. But almost simultaneously with the announcement of his brilliant success abroad had followed the dreadful tidings of his arrest for the murder of Mr. Arnold, and the distinguished position of the murdered man and the fame of the gifted young artist accused of the crime had drawn thousands to the trial.