It would divert Elithe’s mind a little from herself, he said, and it did. It made her laugh and cry both, but laugh the most, and that did her good. The last part of her father’s letter was a help and comfort to her. Her aunt had written: “She don’t know what to do when she is on the stand. She’ll tell the truth, of course, but she don’t want to give Paul away.” To this Roger replied: “You’ll find out fast enough what to do. When once you are on the stand, if you go there, answer what is asked you, telling the exact truth, but do not volunteer information and open doors for the lawyers to enter. Keep up your courage. We are all praying for you here, and something tells me it will yet be right and Mr. Ralston freed.” Elithe had more faith in her father’s prayers and beliefs than in her aunt’s bones. The latter were very apt to forbode evil and in Paul’s case they prognosticated the worst. Still Miss Hansford tried to keep up and to keep Elithe up with her, while the days slipped by and the whole town talked of little beside the coming trial, which attracted the attention of the entire State, for the Ralstons were well known and Paul’s friends were legion. The newspapers were full of it and several came out with the story that Jack Percy had been engaged to the girl who was to appear against Paul Ralston. This added fresh interest to the affair, and although many of the summer visitors had gone home, and among them most of the guests bidden to the wedding, the town was seldom more crowded than it was for a part of that September long to be remembered in Oak City. CHAPTER XXXIV. READY FOR THE TRIAL. Every preliminary in the way of examination, indictment and committal had been gone through. Bail had been offered and refused. The $10,000 offered to any one who would capture the slayer had failed to find the slightest clue to any one but Paul, who was still in jail awaiting his trial. Fortunately he had not long to wait, as the court opened soon after his arrest and examination. But every day was an eternity, and the nights were longer still. It seemed to him they would never end. His stars, Clarice and Elithe, were some little comfort to him,—that of Clarice still glowing like fire,—that of Elithe pale and blurred as if with many tears. When he could not see them he would cover up his head and cry, he was so weak from close confinement and so hopeless as to the future.