"No circumstances can excuse a murder, Mr. Dodd. I hope he won't come here; don't let him dare to offer me his blood-stained hand; his mere presence would be enough to contaminate the whole village. Will they hang him?" she asked with interest. "Oh, Mrs. Dodd," said the brewer's daughter, clasping her hands, for the thought that she herself had witnessed the marriage of this interesting criminal thrilled her very soul. "Of course she will leave him at once," continued the vicar's wife; "were the case my own," she said, "I should not hesitate for an instant." A slight smile rippled across the broad countenance of the vicar; perhaps it passed through his mind that were he not a clergyman there might yet be a means of escape for him. "It is of men such as this," cried the indignant vicar's wife, "that Shakespeare speaks. Yes," she said clenching her fingers, "every honest hand should hold a whip to lash the rascal naked through the world." "It would be a highly indecent spectacle, my dear," said the vicar with a chuckle. "I am speaking figuratively, Mr. Dodd." "Of course, my dear, of course. In the meanwhile old Warrender is horribly angry, as well he may be." The ladies' little meeting now broke up. Old Mrs. Wurzel hastened to the stationer's to order a copy of _The Sphere_ and all the society papers, then, bursting with the news, she proceeded to call upon the Misses Sleek to tell her tale. By midnight every soul in King's Warren was in possession of the fact that Georgie Haggard's husband had fought a duel and had killed his man. The Misses Sleek did not hesitate to express to each other when retiring for the night their united opinion that Mrs. Haggard was a very lucky girl. "I always said he was a hero," said the younger sister with a sigh, and then she went to sleep to dream of him. It is a moot question as to who can claim the title of esquire. Now a-days everybody is Mr., Mrs., or Miss. But Mrs. Dodd was uncompromising; in her mind servants, labourers and criminals should be addressed by their Christian and surname, and no more. When she was unaware of the name she was accustomed to address all males by the epithet "man." There is something very scathing, very exasperating too, in being addressed in this way. Had poor Hephzibah herself been actually in the flesh at King's Warren, Mrs. Dodd would, undoubtedly, have addressed her as "girl;" as it was she merely adopted the Spartan mode which is used by judges at a jail delivery. The tone of the judgment, for we can hardly call it a letter, will be best seen if given at length: "HEPHZIBAH WALLIS,