"They bailed her to appear at the next term of the circuit court," said the colonel, whose turn it was now to tell the story; "and half the county was there to ask the honor of going on her bond. But she only took me and her counsel, Mr. Severn. You see everybody knew she was innocent, and that it was only the malice of that villain of an overseer to get even with her. And the county gentry hated Miles Corbin like the devil, and all of 'em sympathized with his wife. The Board of Magistrates rose when she entered; and when she left the court-room, and when she went down to get in my carriage, with me on one side of her and madam on the other, the magistrates had got out by a shorter way, and were bowing on each side of the carriage door. The presiding magistrate, in the name of the others, expressed their regrets that they were unable to go on her bail-piece, and when she drove out of the village, sitting up straight in my carriage, and looking like a queen, every man she met took off his hat to her, because, you see, Virginia Berkeley was a lady, and Miles Corbin was the damnedest villain--" Here the colonel went off into a roaring hurricane of profanity, which somehow didn't sound profane, but rather as a kind of cordial emphasis to what he said. "She stayed here until the trial came off. Of course she didn't see anybody, but the whole county called on her. Dang me, but I believe they were sorry she hadn't killed Miles Corbin after all; he deserved it, the dog! The day of the trial the madam and I took her up to the cote-house--" "An' I rid on de boot wid Unc' Torm Driver, an' Patsy she sat on de place fur de trunk behin', an' ole marse rid on horseback with Marse Jack Thornton," echoed Bob the parrot. "When we got to the cote-house you never saw such a crowd in your life. We got Virginia in the cote-room as quietly as we could, and the madam and I sat by her. And when she was asked--'Virginia Corbin, what say you, guilty or not guilty?' she stood up as brave as a lion, and says, just as cool as you please, holding up her little hand, 'Not guilty.' The people yelled for half an hour, and the Court didn't say a word, and you may be sure the sheriff didn't.