"My name is Hyacinth Vaughan," was the reply; and the voice that spoke was so sweet, so sad, so musical, that people bent forward to listen more eagerly. Sergeant Burton looked at the beautiful, pallid, high-bred face. "You were in the company of the accused on the night of Wednesday, the 12th of June?" "Yes," she said. "Will you state what happened?" asked the sergeant, blandly. Hyacinth looked at the judge: her lips opened, and then closed, as though she would fain speak, but could not. It was an interval of intense excitement in court. "Will you tell us why you were in his company, Miss Vaughan, and whither you went?" said the sergeant. "My lord," she said--for it was at the judge she looked always--of the presence of the jury she seemed totally ignorant--"I will tell you all about it. I went away with Mr. Lennox--to go to London--to be married there." "Unknown to your friends?" asked the judge. "Unknown to anyone." Here Hyacinth paused, and the lips that had been speaking turned deathly white. "Tell us about it in your own way, Miss Vaughan," said the judge--the sight of that tortured young face moved him to deepest pity--"do not be afraid." Then the fear seemed to die away from her: in all that vast assembly she saw no face but that of the judge looking steadily and intently at her own. "My lord," she said, "I was very dull at home; everyone was kind to me, but there was no one there of my own age, and I was very dull. I made Mr. Lennox's acquaintance, and liked him very much--I thought I loved him--and when he asked me to run away from home and marry him I was quite willing." "But what need was there to run away?" asked the judge, kindly. He knew the question pained her, for her lips quivered and her whole face changed. "In our folly there were reasons that seemed to us to make it imperative," she replied. "My friends had other views for me, and I was to start for the Continent on Friday, the fourteenth of June. It seemed certain to us that unless we were married at once we should never be married at all." "I understand," put in the judge, kindly; "go on with your story." "I did not think much about it, my lord," continued Hyacinth,--"that is, about the right and the wrong of it--I thought only of the romance; and we agreed to go up to London by the train that passed Oakton soon after midnight. I left my home and met Mr. Lennox at the end of my grandparents' grounds; we went to the station together. I kept out of sight while he took tickets for both of us at the booking-office." "The clerk at Oakton station will prove that the accused purchased two tickets," interrupted Sergeant Burton. The judge nodded, and the young girl continued: