"Ah! that's in the Bible, I take it," said Mrs. Cooke; "but the Bible's one thing and York Assizes is another, and so you'll find, unless I'm very much mistaken. The Government will take care to send judges that mean hanging, and that's so well known that it sets the back of the jury up a bit, particler if a touch of politics can be dragged into the case. That's Mr. Brougham's chance, and if he can make the jury think the judge is pressing things too hard against your man, I won't say but he may have a chance. But it isn't much to cling to after all, poor lad." The night before the trial, which was fixed for Wednesday the sixth of January, Mr. Blackburn was to see George in the Castle cell. By much insistence he prevailed on the Governor to permit Mr. Webster to accompany him, a great favour, and one, we understood, little to the liking of the prison chaplain. When the little man returned to our mean lodgings, he was pale and downcast and sat for a long time silent, bending over the sullen fire. "God preserve me from such a scene again," at length he said. "To think that one whose face I have seen upturned to mine in my own chapel should now be prisoned in yonder noisome cell. Oh! my friends, 'surely the ways of transgressor are hard.'" "If it were not to distress yo' too much we should like to hear all from the beginning," said my father. "Well, when we got to the gate of the gaol," said Mr. Webster, "Mr. Blackburn rang the bell. A jailor opened it after such unlocking and unbarring as you never heard." 'To see a prisoner,' said Mr. Blackburn. 'An attorney, sir? Your name?' 'Mr. Blackburn, of Huddersfield. For George Mellor and others to be tried to-morrow.' 'And your friend?' 'Mr. Webster, a good minister of the gospel.' 'He cannot enter, sir, unless by special order of the governor.' 'It is here.' 'Then enter and follow me. Write your name and address in this book.' "He was a big, burly man, and treated Mr. Blackburn with great respect; but he looked hard at me from under his bushy eyebrows, till I bethought me to slip a crown piece into his hand, when he became more civil. He had a bunch of great keys by his side, and they jingled as he walked. We followed him across a courtyard, where there was more unlocking of gates and doors, and at length we were in a stone-flagged corridor with whitewashed walls, and on either side of these the cells. There was a little spy-hole in the door of every cell, through which, I judged, the warders might watch the wretches chained within. Before one door the warder stopped." 'This is your man, sir,' he said, and selecting a key turned the lock and threw open the door. 'I'll stand outside, sir.'