She began speaking in a low voice, her eyes fixed on the ground before her. As the memory of that dreadful day came back to her, she seemed to see it all again,--the peaceful woodland scene, the quiet river, the forest road, and at her side her humble friend and pupil. The walls of the court-room faded from before her, and judge and jury, lawyer and audience, were forgotten; she looked at Graham only, and spoke to him alone; his grave eyes met hers, and the sympathy in them made the task of telling her story an easy one. Aiding her recital with expressive gestures, she told of the appearance of Daniel Horton on the peaceful scene; she repeated his insolent words, unconsciously imitating the man’s manner and voice; she described the affront offered to herself with burning cheeks and flashing eyes; her voice grew tremulous and low when she spoke of the dead servant’s efforts to save her from the insolent ruffian; when with a deep, horrified voice she told of the murder and death of Ah Lam, it was as if she were describing a scene still enacting itself before her eyes. A strong impression was made by the girl’s words on all her hearers. The noisy court-room had grown perfectly still; the very recorders held their pens useless in their hands; and the eyes of the judge with the pink cravat were riveted on her face. As she ceased speaking, a sympathetic tremor ran through the crowd assembled in the court-room, and a low murmur was heard. Maurice Galbraith, usually the most quiet and reserved of men, was evidently undergoing an unusual excitement, those who knew him thought; and Pierson, the counsel for the defendant, seemed rather disconcerted by the strong impression made by the witness. When Graham came upon the stand and told his story of the night passed in the shooting-lodge, Millicent listened breathlessly. The young painter gave his evidence with a certain picturesqueness, describing the arrival at the cabin of Dan Horton, his demand for food and shelter, his troubled sleep, his wounded face, the peculiar nature of the scratches, and finally, the finding of Millicent’s handkerchief after his departure on the following morning. An effort was made to disprove the evidence, and an _alibi_ was sworn to by two new-found friends of the prisoner, who claimed to have passed that night in his company. These witnesses, carefully prepared by Pierson, gave their evidence with few blunders; and Dan Horton, closely following every word of the defence, gave a satisfied smile at the new turn which the skilfully devised _alibi_ seemed likely to give to affairs.