“I! and do not interrupt me again, gentlemen. I am in haste to finish; for by accusing myself I exonerate these poor prisoners. I excited the miners in Schumacker’s name; I distributed those banners to the rebels; I sent them money and arms in the name of the prisoner of Munkholm. Hacket was my agent.” At the name of Hacket, the private secretary made a gesture of stupefied amazement. Ordener continued: “I will not trespass on your time, gentlemen. I was captured among the miners, whom I persuaded to revolt. I alone did everything. Now judge me. If I have proved my guilt, I have also proved the innocence of Schumacker and the poor wretches whom you deem his accomplices.” The young man spoke these words, his eyes raised to heaven. Ethel, almost lifeless, scarcely breathed; but it seemed to her that Ordener, although he exculpated her father, pronounced his name most bitterly. The young man’s language terrified and amazed her, although she could not comprehend it. Of all she heard, she grasped nothing but misery. A sentiment of similar nature seemed to engross the president. He was scarcely able to believe his ears. Nevertheless, he asked the viceroy’s son: “If you are indeed the sole author of this revolt, what was your object in instigating it?” “I cannot tell you.” Ethel shivered when she heard the president reply in a somewhat angry tone: “Had you not an intrigue with Schumacker’s daughter?” But Ordener, though in chains, advanced toward the bench, and exclaimed, in accents of indignation: “Chancellor d’Ahlefeld, content yourself with my life, which I place in your hands; respect a noble and innocent girl. Do not a second time attempt to dishonor her.” Ethel, who felt the blood rise to her face, did not comprehend the meaning of the words, “a second time,” upon which her defender laid such emphasis; but by the rage expressed in the president’s features, it seemed that he understood them. “Ordener Guldenlew, do not forget the respect due to the king’s justice and the officers of the law. I reprimand you in the name of the court. I now summon you anew to declare your purpose in committing the crime of which you accuse yourself.” “I repeat that I cannot tell you.” “Was it not to deliver Schumacker?” inquired the secretary. Ordener was silent. “Do not persist in silence, prisoner,” said the president; “it is proved that you have been in communication with Schumacker, and your confession of guilt rather implicates than exonerates the prisoner of Munkholm. You have paid frequent visits to Munkholm, and your motive was surely more than mere curiosity. Let this diamond buckle bear witness.” The president took from the table a diamond buckle. “Do you recognize it as your property?” “Yes. By what chance?”