"I tried so hard, Paul," she said presently. "And I thought--no, never mind what I thought; besides, even now I can say nothing that would---- But oh, my dear, dear boy! When I was a lass on my father's farm everything seemed hopeful--everything! Of course, I had my troubles--my stepmother was cruel to me, and she did not understand the longings and fears of a lass such as I was; but still, I did not trouble. But ever since, Paul, ever since he came, it seems as though everything has added to the confusion, to the mystery, to the misery! I don't know how it is, but it seems as though Almighty God has placed a curse upon me. Whatever I've done has turned out wrong. I don't blame you, Paul. No, I don't blame you; but to think--to think----" "I don't understand, mother." He was obliged to say this, although he still believed his mother's mind was wandering. "Of course, you've got your defence?" she said. "You would say nothing about it at the trials at Brunford, but I know you have something at the back of your mind. You have, my boy, haven't you?" His voice was almost grim as he replied, "Yes; I have something at the back of my mind." "What maddens me," she went on, "is that everything one does seems to be so futile--it ends in nothing! I thought I had done that which made everything plain for you. I thought the sun was going to shine on you continually, and that the desires of your heart should be gratified. And now I find I'm a fool. Almighty God laughs at me--just laughs at me! I've done and suffered in vain. But, of course, you'll clear yourself?" Again the young man looked at his mother steadily. What did she mean by this--"Of course, you'll clear yourself"? "It will be very difficult," he could not help saying. A look of terror came into her eyes. "But not impossible, Paul. No, I see you mean that you'll get out of it. You're so clever. You can see your way out of things which to other people would be impossible. You've got your plans all made, haven't you?" And she looked at him with a mad light in her eyes. "Yes," he replied with a sigh; "I have my plans all made." "Someone told me that you refused to have anyone to defend you. Better so, Paul, better so. You're cleverer than any of these barrister men, 'King's Counsels,' I think they call themselves. If you got one of them to defend you you'd have to tell them too much, and you mustn't do that. You know what to say, what not to say, what to tell and what to keep back. It'll be very hard for you, Paul, but I can trust you. You're my own brave, clever lad. About that knife, Paul, I think I can help you." Still he did not understand her. She seemed to be talking riddles.