Changing from the scene to the open street, we find a pettifogger, one secretly prompted by Williams, spreading a report that had its origin no one knew where, but which was gradually finding its way to the ears of half the population of Duke’s, exciting prejudice and inflicting wrong. “It’s the curi’stest story I ever heard,” said Sam Tongue, as the pettifogger was usually styled, though his real name was Hubbs; “and one so hard to believe, that, though I tell it, I call on no man to believe it. You see, gentlemen”—the little group around him was composed of suitors, witnesses, jurors, grand-jurors, and others of a stamp that usually mark these several classes of men—“that the account now is, that this Mary Monson was sent abroad for her schoolin’ when only ten years old; and that she staid in the old countries long enough to l’arn to play the harp, and other deviltries of the same natur’. It’s a misfortin’, as I say, for any young woman to be sent out of Ameriky for an edication. Edication, as everybody knows, is the great glory of _our_ country; and a body would think that what can’t be l’arn’t _here_, isn’t worth knowin’.” This sentiment was well received, as would be any opinion that asserted American superiority, with that particular class of listeners. Eye turned to eye, nod answered nod, and a murmur expressive of approbation passed through the little crowd. “But there was no great harm in that,” put in a person named Hicks, who was accustomed to connect consequences with their causes, and to trace causes down to their consequences. “Anybody might have been edicated in France as well as Mary Monson. _That_ will hardly tell ag’in her on the trial.” “I didn’t say it would,” answered Sam Tongue; “though it’s gin’rally conceded that France is no country for religion or true freedom. Give me religion and freedom, say I; a body can get along with bad crops, or disapp’intments in gin’ral, so long as he has plenty of religion and plenty of freedom.” Another murmur, another movement in the group, and other nods denoted the spirit in which this was received too. “All this don’t make ag’in Mary Monson; ’specially as you say she was sent abroad so young. It wasn’t her fault if her parents——” “She had no parents—there’s the great mystery of her case. Never had, so far as can be discovered. A gal without parents, without fri’nds of any sort, is edicated in a foreign land, l’arns to speak foreign tongues, plays on foreign music, and comes home a’ter she’s grown up, with her pockets as full as if she’d been to Californy and met a vein; and no one can tell where it all come from!” “Well, _that_ won’t tell ag’in her, ne’ther,” rejoined Hicks, who had now defended the accused so much that he began to take an interest in her acquittal. “Evidence must be direct, and have a p’int, to tell ag’in man or woman. As for Californy, it’s made lawful by treaty, if Congress will only let it alone.”