He was not the wretch. The buzzing in his head had separated him from that man for whom there was scarcely a ghost of a chance, and he began to pity him and to look around to see where he was. He could not find him, but his eyes fell upon Miss Hansford, who had relaxed from her stiff, upright position, and settled down in her chair until she was not much taller than Elithe, sitting beside her. Elithe had not moved perceptibly and might have been asleep, she was so motionless, until Paul said, “It is mine, but I have no idea how it came there in the woods.” Then she clutched at her veil, as if it smothered her. There was something in his voice so sad that her heart ached with a fresh pain and she used all her self-control not to cry out. Very gently, as we touch a sick, restless child, Miss Hansford put her hand on Elithe, who grew quiet again and resumed her former attitude. It was expected that Miss Hansford would follow Seth Walker, who found the revolver, but it was growing late, and the judge thought it best to adjourn until the day following, when Miss Hansford and Elithe would be put upon the stand and with their testimony and that of the physicians called to attend Jack the prosecution would close. There had been some sharp cross-questioning for the defense, but it had failed to shake the evidence of the witness sworn, and not much had been accomplished either way. As the black mass of human beings surged out of the house, many murmurs of disappointment were heard. They had seen Paul and seen Elithe through her blue veil, but they wanted more than that,—wanted to see her on the stand, and Miss Hansford, too. This would come to-morrow, and, with this to anticipate, they went their different ways, talking of nothing but the trial and the seeming impossibility that Paul could be cleared. He was driven back to jail in his father’s carriage, very quiet and thoughtful and a great deal mystified with all he had heard and seen. His brain was still affected by the pain in his forehead and the back of his neck, and he could not understand clearly what it was all about or why he was conducted to prison, with Max Allen in attendance, instead of that other man who had shot Jack Percy. His father noticed his peculiar state of mind and feared for his reason. “Better so, perhaps, than something worse. They don’t hang crazy people, or send them to State’s prison, either,” he thought, and, with this grain of comfort, he bade Paul good-night. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE SECOND DAY OF THE TRIAL.