He came home of his own free-will, after years of deliberation. He had been influenced by no one in this singular crisis. He was alone in the world. Except for his beloved granddaughter, there was no one else who could suffer through the result of this trial. He was prepared to accept the verdict of the twelve gentlemen who listened to him and who had listened to the testimony of others before him. There was not a sound in the court-room when he paused and drew a long deep breath. Every eye was upon him. Then, in a clear, resonant voice he said: “Gentlemen, I repeat that I am absolutely innocent of this charge. I ask you to believe me when I say this to you. If you do not believe me, I must be content to accept your judgment. I do not ask you to discredit the testimony of the men who have appeared against me. They have told all they know about the circumstances, I dare say, and I am convinced that they are honest men. They have only shown you that there was a colossal theft, that a large sum of money is unaccounted for in their business. They have not shown you, however, that I am the man who took it. They have only shown you that fifty thousand dollars is missing and unaccounted for. I admit I was responsible as treasurer of the company for the safe-keeping and guardianship of all that money. It disappeared. I can only say to you, gentlemen, that I did not take it.” His voice was husky. There was a long pause, and then he settled back in his chair and turned wearily to the district attorney for crossexamination. It was then that the crowd knew he had finished his story. A deep breath came from the lips of every one, as if for many minutes it had been withheld. Sampson's gaze involuntarily sought Alexandra Hildebrand's face. He did not mean to look at her. He could not resist the impulse, however. It was stronger than the adamantine resolution he had made. The light of triumph was in her glowing eyes, the flush of victory in the cheek. Her grandfather had cleared himself! Sampson's heart ached as it sank to depths from which it would never rebound. He turned hopelessly to the man in the witness chair, and waited for the district attorney to open his grilling cross-examination. He knew what the State would demand: why did he go away? Who replaced a large portion of the amount originally missing? Why did he sell his real-estate and his interest in the business? A hundred vital questions would be discharged at him, and he would--But, even as he delved in these dismal reflections, the district attorney arose in his place and said, clearly, distinctly--although no man at first believed his ears: “No questions, your Honour.”