“Mr. Williams,” said the judge, “you must challenge peremptorily, or the juror will be received.” “No, your Honour, the State will accept the juror; I now see that my information has been wrong.” “We challenge for the defence,” said Timms, deciding on the instant, on the ground that if Williams was so ready to change his course of proceeding, there must be a good reason for it. “Stand aside, juror.” “Peter Bailey,” called the clerk. No objection being made, Peter Bailey took his seat. The two next jurors were also received unquestioned; and it only remained to draw the twelfth man. This was so much better luck than commonly happens in capital cases, that everybody seemed more and more pleased, as if all were anxious to come to the testimony. The judge evidently felicitated himself, rubbing his hands with very great satisfaction. The bar, generally, entered into his feelings; for it helped along its business. “On the whole,” observed one of the lawyers who was in extensive practice, speaking to another at his side, “I would as soon try one of these murder-cases as to go through with a good water-cause.” “Oh! _they_ are excruciating! Get into a good water-cause, with about thirty witnesses on a side, and you are in for a week. I was three days at one, only last circuit.” “Are there many witnesses in this case?” “About forty, I hear,” glancing towards the benches where most of the females sat. “They tell me there will be a very formidable array as to character. Ladies from York by the dozen!” “They will be wanted, if all they say is true.” “If all you hear is true, we have reached a new epoch in the history of mankind. I have never seen the day when half of that I hear is more than half true. I set the rest down as ‘leather and prunella.’” “Robert Robinson,” cried the clerk. A respectable-looking man of fifty presented himself, and was about to enter the box without stopping to ascertain whether or not he would be welcome there. This person had much more the air of the world than either of the other jurors; and with those who are not very particular, or very discriminating in such matters, might readily enough pass for a gentleman. He was neatly dressed, wore gloves, and had certain chains, an eye-glass, and other appliances of the sort, that it is not usual to see at a country circuit. Neither Williams nor Timms seemed to know the juror; but each looked surprised, and undecided how he ought to act. The peremptory challenges were not exhausted; and there was a common impulse in the two lawyers, first to accept one so respectable in mien, and attire, and general air; and then, by a sudden revolution of feeling, to reject one of whom they knew nothing. “I suppose the summons is all right,” Williams carelessly remarked. “The juror resides in Duke’s?” “I do,” was the answer. “Is a freeholder, and entitled to serve?”