“Don’t you think, young man—as you’re agoin’ to open my mouth—because you ain’t. I loved this poor young gel, as though she’d been a child o’ my own; but I swear to you, before God, that the man who stands there knew nothing of it, and is absolutely innocent. Toby—my angel—vote for ’im—if you love me!” Toby answered with a responsive growl, and Mrs. Siggs sat down. Nor would the pleadings of the Coroner—the threats of Tokely—or the suavity of the young barrister move her; she read in the face from which she took her inspiration that she must be silent—and the rack itself would not have moved her. Came the medical man, who gave his evidence grimly enough, in technical terms which yet sent a shudder through the listening crowd. He had examined the body, and, in answer to a question from the Coroner, gave it as his opinion—and with certainty—that the unfortunate girl, at the time of her death was near the period when she would have given birth to a child; struck a more deadly blow at the prisoner, by describing, in callous medical phraseology, the wound which had been inflicted, and the lingering death which followed. At the end of that evidence, there was not a man nor woman in the place that would not have shrieked “Murderer!” at him, whatever the verdict of the jury might be. Some little sensation was created by the appearance of Harry Routley, the young servant of Dandy Chater; who—tackled by the Inspector, and keeping his eyes resolutely turned from the man whose life he was swearing away, gave his evidence in little more than monosyllables; but gave it in damning quality enough, even at that. Some greater sensation, too, was caused, by his turning swiftly to the prisoner, in the midst of the questions of the Inspector, and holding out his hands to Philip in an agony of appeal; and then covering his face with them. “Master Dandy—Master Dandy!” he cried—“I swore to you that I would keep the secret—I have broken my word! Master Dandy—I was mad—beside myself—Master Dandy—forgive me!” It created, if that were possible, a worse impression than ever. In the midst of the murmurs which surged up about them, the quiet voice of Philip was heard. “It’s all right, Harry; you’ve only done the right thing. The time will come when you will understand better what I mean—when you will have no cause for regret. You need have none now; you have been more loyal and true to me than I deserved; I say it openly, before all here.” Came Inspector Tokely himself, demanding that this man be sent for trial; pointing out this man’s desperate attempts to escape; his partial success; and so introducing the last witness—the Shady ’un.