We have endeavoured to give as faithful a picture as possible of the treatment of prisoners while in gaol awaiting their trial. Many an innocent man has to put up with all the indignities we have described, and has been forced to suffer in silence, for no one seems to have much sympathy for persons who have the misfortune to be wrongfully accused. They must get out of the scrape as best they can. The public, however, every now and then awakens to the fact that a great wrong has been done, and then an outcry is raised, and it goes to sleep again. We have an instance of this in the case of a clergyman who had the misfortune to be suspected of having committed what is known as the Coram-street murder. This case is of a remarkable and exceptional character, and incontestably points to what might be termed spasmodic sympathy or charity, evinced on many occasions towards foreigners by a certain section of the people of this country, who deem it expedient to close their eyes to far more deserving cases of suffering endured by their own countrymen, while they are lavish in their subscriptions to recompense a foreigner. Many of our readers will doubless remember the particulars connected with the tragedy in Coram-street. On Wednesday, Dec. 25th, 1873, a dreadful murder was discovered to have been committed at 12, Great Coram-street, Brunswick-square, the victim being a woman named Harriet Buswell. She had been seen on the previous night at the “Count Cavour” hotel, in Leicester-square, with a foreign gentleman. The woman and her male companion left the hotel together. It appeared that two persons, one of whom was the deceased, called at a greengrocer’s shop near to Coram-street. On the Christmas morning she was found by the landlady of the house in which she resided dead on her bed, with her throat cut under the ear, severing the jugular vein, and there was another deep gash lower down. Life was quite extinct. The door of the room in which she was found was locked on the outside, and the key taken away; but, strange to say, there were no marks of blood on the door, nor on the walls or bed, as if the blood had spurted from the wounds. The face of the victim was perfectly calm, but on the forehead there was the distinct print of a thumb, and a little lower down the mark of the palm of the hand in blood, as if, after the first wound had been inflicted, the poor creature had been held down by the left hand while the second wound was inflicted. The appearance of the man who went home with the unfortunate woman was described by the inmates of the house, but he left without any one observing him.