“‘You are insane, sir!’ I at length said, struggling to regain my coolness. ‘Your grief has affected your brain! I can pardon much in you today, sir, but beware how you again attempt to degrade me!’ “‘Hear him!’ was the hoarse and furious reply of Judge Conway; and reaching out his thin fingers, a habit he had caught from Mr. Randolph--he pointed at me where I stood. “‘Hear him! He affects innocence! He is outraged! He is indignant! And yet he waylaid my brother, whom he has hated for twenty years--he waylaid him like an assassin, and murdered him! There is the proof!’ “And drawing from his pocket a knife, covered with clotted blood, he threw it upon the grave before all eyes. “Good God! It was my own!” XXI. THE CHAIN OF EVIDENCE. “At the sight of that terrible object” continued General Davenant, “I staggered back, and nearly fell. I could not believe my eyes--never thought of denying the ownership of the fearful witness,--I could only gaze at it, with a wild horror creeping over me, and then all these terrible emotions were too much for me. “I took two steps toward the grave, reached out with a shudder to grasp the knife whose clots of blood seemed to burn themselves into my brain--then vertigo seized me, and letting my head fall, I fainted. “When I regained my senses, I was in my carriage, supported by the arms of my wife, and rolling up the avenue to my own house. “Opposite me, in the carriage, little Charley, who, dimly realized apparently that some trouble had come to me, was crying bitterly, and a rough personage was endeavoring to quiet his sobbing. “The personage in question was a constable. When I fainted at the grave, my friends had caught me in their arms--protested with burning indignation that the charge against me was a base calumny--and the magistrate who was summoned by Judge Conway to arrest me, had declined to do more than direct a constable to escort me home, and see that I did not attempt to escape. “That was kind. I was a murderer, and my proper place a jail. Why should _I_ be more favored than some poor common man charged with that crime? Had such a person been confronted with such a charge, supported by such damning evidence as the bloody knife, would any ceremony have been observed? ‘To jail!’ all would have cried, ‘No bail for the murderer!’ And why should the rich Mr. Davenant be treated with more consideration?