“No, my friends, it is my wish that these two officers should be treated with the utmost courtesy; they are only executing the process which the law has placed in their hands; but I would beg to admonish them that handcuffs are not made for gentlemen. The law considers all men innocent until their guilt is established; and, as I have already stated, this case is by no means unfamiliar to me. It is really a part of the little story which I have been telling; and I promise to tell you all about it before I am done. I guess I can easily conclude the narrative by the time we shall reach Vicksburg; but I must relate circumstances and incidents in the order in which they introduced themselves into my story. About three weeks after I had departed from Vicksburg (where I had gone, as I have heretofore stated, to hunt up certain facts which Lottie thought were necessary,) the grand jury returned into the criminal court a true bill against Viola Bramlett, charging her with willful murder, and the day for the trial was agreed on. Mr. Rockland had made the necessary arrangements with the attorney-general, who was quite a young man, but possessed a high order of intellect. He was a good lawyer, but differed from other prosecuting attorneys in one respect. Nearly all State attorneys imagine that it is their duty to prosecute with a vengeance every unfortunate creature against whom a bill may be found. But attorney-general Quillet was ever ready to enter a _nolle prosequi_ when the proof justified it. I was overwhelmed with astonishment one morning to see Harry Wallingford come walking into my office, looking like a corpse. His beard was long and uneven; the hair on his head tangled and unsightly; his clothes were soiled and hung loosely about his body; and his face had no signs of blood in it; his eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, and had a wild, restless stare about them. He held out his thin, bony hand as he dropped into a chair, like one who was very tired. “‘What on earth caused you to return so soon, Harry?’ I inquired. “‘My uncle was dead when I reached California, and had willed all his property to his business partner. The will had been presented, proved and probated before I arrived; consequently I had nothing to detain me, so I set out for home; and here I am, as poor as Lazarus, broken down in mind and body, and desperate enough to commit suicide if it was not cowardly to do it. Tell me the news, Ed; though mind you, I am not prepared for good news--I could not bear it; but if you have anything very unpleasant, please let me hear it.’