"Miserable young woman, if this be proved true, I shall have to commit you!" "Just as you please," said Cap, "but bless your soul, that won't help Craven Le Noir a single bit!" As she spoke several persons entered the office in a state of high excitement--all talking at once, saying: "That is the girl!" "Yes, that is her!" "She is Miss Black, old Warfield's niece." "Yes, he said she was," etc., etc., etc. "What is all this, neighbors, what is all this?" inquired the troubled magistrate, rising in his place. "Why, sir, there's been a gentleman, Mr. Craven Le Noir, shot. He has been taken to the Antlers, where he lies in articulus mortis, and we wish him to be confronted with Miss Capitola Black, the young woman here present, that he may identify her, whom he accuses of having shot six charges into him, before his death. She needn't deny it, because he is ready to swear to her!" said Mr. Merry, who constituted himself spokesman. "She accuses herself," said the magistrate, in dismay. "Then, sir, had she not better be taken at once to the presence of Mr. Le Noir, who may not have many minutes to live?" "Yes, come along," said Cap. "I only gave myself up to wait for this; and as he is already at hand, let's go and have it all over, for I have been riding about in this frosty morning air for three hours, and I have got a good appetite, and I want to go home to breakfast." "I am afraid, young woman, you will scarcely get home to breakfast this morning," said Mr. Merry. "We'll see that presently," answered Cap, composedly, as they all left the office, and crossed the street to the Antlers. They were conducted by the landlord to a chamber on the first floor, where upon a bed lay stretched, almost without breath or motion, the form of Craven Le Noir. His face was still covered with blood, that the bystanders had scrupulously refused to wash off until the arrival of the magistrate. His complexion, as far as it could be seen, was very pale. He was thoroughly prostrated, if not actually dying. Around his bed were gathered the village doctor, the landlady and several maid-servants. "The squire has come, sir; are you able to speak to him?" asked the landlord, approaching the bed. "Yes, let him swear me," feebly replied the wounded man, "and then send for a clergyman." The landlady immediately left to send for Mr. Goodwin, and the magistrate approached the head of the bed, and, speaking solemnly, exhorted the wounded man, as he expected soon to give an account of the works done in his body, to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, without reserve, malice or exaggeration, both as to the deed and its provocation. "I will I will--for I have sent for a minister and I intend to try to make my peace with heaven," replied Le Noir. The magistrate then directed Capitola to come and take her stand at the foot of the bed, where the wounded man, who was lying on his back, could see her without turning.