"Very well," said Mr. Conger, rising, "if you take your fate into your own hands in that way, I owe it to _myself_ to withdraw from the case." "Very well, Mr. Conger." "Good-morning, Mr. Charlton!" "Good-morning, Mr. Conger." And with Mr. Conger's disappearance went Albert's last hope of escape. The battle had been fought, and lost--or won, as you look at it. Let us say won, for no man's case is desperate till he parts with manliness. Charlton had the good fortune to secure a young lawyer of little experience but of much principle, who was utterly bewildered by the mystery of the case, and the apparently paradoxical scruples of his client, but who worked diligently and hopelessly for him. He saw the flaw in the indictment and pointed it out to Charlton, but told him that as it was merely a technical point he would gain nothing but time. Charlton preferred that there should be no delay, except what was necessary to give his counsel time to understand the case. In truth, there was little enough to understand. The defense had nothing left to do. When Albert came into court he was pale from his confinement. He looked eagerly round the crowded room to see if he could find the support of friendly faces. There were just two. The Hoosier Poet sat on one of the benches, and by him sat Isa Marlay. True, Mr. Plausaby sat next to Miss Marlay, but Albert did not account him anything in his inventory of friends. Isabel wondered how he would plead. She hoped that he did not mean to plead guilty, but the withdrawal of Conger from the case filled her with fear, and she had been informed by Mr. Plausaby that he could refuse to plead altogether, and it would be considered a plea of not guilty. She believed him innocent, but she had not had one word of assurance to that effect from him, and even her faith had been shaken a little by the innuendoes and suspicions of Mr. Plausaby. Everybody looked at the prisoner. Presently the District Attorney moved that Albert Charlton be arraigned. The Court instructed the clerk, who said, "Albert Charlton, come forward." Albert here rose to his feet, and raised his right hand in token of his identity. The District Attorney said, "This prisoner I have indicted by the grand jury." "Shall we waive the reading of the indictment?" asked Charlton's counsel. "No," said Albert, "let it be read," and he listened intently while the clerk read it. "Albert Charlton, you have heard the charge. What say you: Guilty, or, Not guilty?" Even the rattling and unmeaning voice in which the clerk was accustomed to go through with his perfunctory performances took on some solemnity. There was dead silence for a moment. Isa Marlay's heart stopped beating, and the Poet from Posey County opened his mouth with eager anxiety. When Charlton spoke, it was in a full, solemn voice, with deliberation and emphasis. "NOT GUILTY!" "Thank God!" whispered Isa. The Poet shut his mouth and heaved a sigh of relief.