"The prisoner, when she left her aunt's house on the night of the murder, wore a blue dress--her favourite colour. Even without this evidence there was sufficient to warrant the conclusion that the prisoner was guilty of the crime of which she stood charged; but it was natural, perhaps, that her youth and beauty would have won the day with impressionable men, had it not been for this important evidence of colour. In association with Miser Farebrother were two women only, Mrs. Pamflett and the prisoner. Setting a due value upon Tom Barley's evidence, the prosecution had carefully sifted it, and the conclusion arrived at was indisputable. Mrs. Pamflett was not a favourite in Beddington and round about; she had no friends or acquaintances there or anywhere; but she had been compelled to make her purchases in the village, and her appearance was familiar by force of circumstance. She had never been known to wear a blue dress; it was, she said, a detestable colour, and she would not purchase even a piece of ribbon of that hue. As the prisoner's favourite colour was blue, so Mrs. Pamflett's was pink, and in all the housekeeper's wardrobe--which, it may be mentioned, was thrown open to the investigation of the prosecution--there was not a fabric of blue. "Another thing told heavily against the prisoner. In her statement she said that 'it was still dark when she went away' from Parksides. She said, 'There was no light in the sky when I left Parksides behind me.' Tom Barley proved that he saw her in a blue dress when the sun was rising. A sad duty indeed devolved upon the jury, but it was a duty which had to be fulfilled. The verdict of 'Guilty' which was returned was one which could not be avoided by conscientious men, however painful it must have been. Phoebe Farebrother is not the only beautiful and apparently gentle woman upon whom sentence of death has been passed." CHAPTER XII. DICK GARDEN TO THE RESCUE. Aunt and Uncle Leth and their children sat in their once happy home in Camden Town gazing at each other in mute despair. For them the tragedy of life was complete and overwhelming, and their condition was such that they could find no words to give expression to their horror and grief. They were waiting for Fred Cornwall, who had obtained permission to see Phoebe in prison. When he entered the room his face was white and stern. He felt the terrible blow which had fallen upon them no less poignantly than they; but he had not lost the power to act, nor, as with them, had hope entirely deserted him.