Those were all proved by witnesses, and although we must admit, that the great body of the evidence was true, in point of fact, yet there was not a word said, of the insolence, threatening language, falsehood, evasion, and defiance, which Purcel and his sons had in general experienced from the people, before they had been forced to have recourse, in matters of tithe, to such harsh proceedings against them. When the case for Captain Right was about to close, there was a slight stir, and a low indistinct murmur ran through those who thronged the ruin. “There is another charge still to come,” said the young man who conducted the prosecution; “we pass by the three massacres, and all the blood that was shed in them; and all the sorrow and misery, and affliction that they occasioned--we pass them by, I say, and to show all here present that we are not like Purcel and his sons, resolved to avail ourselves of any advantage against those we prosecute, I will just confine myself to one case of murder, instead of many--because you all know, that if they are found guilty upon one count, it will be sufficient for our purpose. Widow Flanagan, come up and prove your sorrowful case.” A pale, emaciated woman, whose countenance was the very reflex of affliction and despair, now was assisted to make her way from the further part of the building. She was dressed in the deepest mourning, with the exception of the ribbons, which were, like the rest, a deep blood-red, as an indication that one of her family had been murdered. “Widow Flanagan,” said the counsel for Captain Right, “will you have the goodness to state your distressing case?”