The accused, went on my father (in substance. I can only give the briefest abstract of his speech), would not deny that there had been differences between him and his brother. Indeed, it would be useless to, in the face of some recent notorious evidence to the contrary. But did not all history teach us the folly of jumping, on the strength of an unguarded word, to fatal conclusions? Had not one of our own monarchs (surnamed Fitz-Empress, as he need not remind the jury) suffered a lifelong regret from the false interpretation put upon a rash utterance of his? “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?” he had cried, in an unthinking moment. “You shall pay for this!” had been Joshua Pilbrow’s threat to his brother, under a like aggravation, in the sale-room. “Gentlemen,” said my father, “how deadly the seeming import, how laughable the explanation in either case. King Henry cried only distractedly for some one to persuade his importunate Chancellor to leave him alone. Joshua Pilbrow meant no more than to insist that his brother should ‘stand the whole racket’ of a purchase of which he himself had disapproved. Hence, gentlemen, these tears!” There was a little stir in court, and my companion chuckled delightedly in my ear again. My father then proceeded triumphantly to give the true facts of the case. The packet of books had, it appeared when opened, revealed one item of unexpected value, in the profits from which Joshua, as partner, insisted upon sharing. To this, however, Abel, quoting his own words against him, demurred. It was his--Abel’s purchase, Abel contended, to do with as he chose. The dispute ran so high as to threaten litigation; when all of a sudden one night Abel was found to have taken himself off with the cherished volume. Joshua, at first unable to credit such perfidy, bided his time, expecting his brother to return. But when, at last, his suspicion of bereavement settled into a conviction, he grew like one demented. He could not believe in the reality of his loss; but, candle in hand, went hunting high and low amongst the litter with which the premises were choked, hoping somewhere to alight, in some forgotten corner where cupidity had concealed it, on the coveted prize. Alas! it never rains but it pours. He not only failed to trace the treasure, but, in his distracted hunt for it, must accidentally have fired the stock, which, smouldering for awhile, burst out presently into flame, and committed all to ruin. * * * * * *