‘I have been very ill; and I only noticed to-day that the trial was coming on. If you send for my landlord he will tell ye I was in bed an’ deleerious when Maister Lindsay was at the police-court.’ ‘You were drunk when Mr. Beattie--is that his name?--came to see you at the gin-palace, or whatever it was?’ ‘It is _not_ a gin-palace, and I was _not_ drunk. I had been drinking certainly.’ ‘You know perfectly well what you were about?’ put in the Judge. ‘Brawly--that is, just so, my lord.’ ‘Hadn’t we better have this Mr. Beattie in the box, and see what he says to all this,’ suggested the Judge. ‘Certainly, my lord. He had better be called outside. He was here a minute ago.’ But Mr. Beattie was not to be found. As soon as MacGowan’s voice fell on his ears, he had realized that he had come to tell what had passed at the public-house; and he left the court by one door as his former subordinate entered by another. Taking a hansom he drove to the bank at which he kept his account, and drew out all that was due to him. Then he disappeared and was heard of no more. The reason why Beattie had absconded was apparent to everyone in court. The plot which he had concocted was laid bare. ‘I don’t know whether you will think it worth while to address the jury, Mr. Collithorne,’ said the Judge, after waiting some minutes. ‘If the last witness is to be believed, it is plain that two wills were engrossed, in one of which the original bequest to the Free Church of Scotland was altered to five thousand pounds; and Miss Mowbray has proved that the latter document may have been substituted for the other without the defendant’s knowledge. There is nothing to show that Mr. Alexander Lindsay instigated either Beattie or MacGowan to get the second engrossment made, or that, in fact, he knew of its existence.’ ‘That is true, my lord; and I am altogether in your lordship’s hands,’ said Mr. Collithorne slowly. ‘If your lordship thinks----’ he paused, for the jury were putting their heads together in a significant way. ‘If you would like the case to go on, gentlemen----’ began the Judge; but the jurymen separated and returned to their places. ‘Gentlemen of the jury, are you agreed upon your verdict?’ asked the Clerk of the Arraigns. ‘We are,’ said the foreman. ‘Do you find the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty?’ ‘Not guilty.’ Something very like a cheer broke out in the court; and the usher cried ‘Silence!’ with the air of a man who cared nothing for public opinion. As for Alec, something seemed to swell in his throat, as if it would choke him; and his hand trembled as it had not trembled since his trouble had fallen on him. He looked around, and could see nothing but a sea of faces. Then someone guided him to a little doorway in the iron railing, and helped him down the steps into the body of the court. He was a free man once more. CHAPTER XXXIV. AFTER THE TRIAL.