The counsel for the prosecution again rose, and added—“Gentlemen of the jury, I presume it is now unnecessary for me to remind you that the prisoner having attempted murder on one of his Majesty’s subjects, it is altogether unnecessary for him to perform it now upon his Majesty’s English. If rhetorical froth were proof, and sound received as evidence, the case of the prisoner might be different from what it is. But it unfortunately happens for his oratory, that froth is not proof, and that noise is not evidence. I will not insult your good sense by adverting for a moment to his shallow calumnies and malicious assertions. You will place them to the spirit of hardened wickedness that invented them. But, gentlemen, we shall now see what evidence he has to bring forward in support of his oratory, and in substantiation of his malicious and frail subterfuges.” No witnesses being likely to appear in behalf of the prisoner, the governor of the gaol voluntarily came forward and bore testimony to the excellence of Alexander’s conduct while under confinement, and also to the exemplary affection and modesty manifested by his wife. He left the witness-box, and another pause ensued, when Isabella sprang forward, stretching out her arms towards the jury, and exclaimed—“Hear me! hear me!—only for a moment—as you are men—as you are fathers—as you are Christians, hear me! Do not tear my Alexander from me—he is innocent! Yes! yes! he is innocent of the guilt attributed towards him by the wicked man who seeks his life!—innocent as your babes that may smile at their mother’s breast! Save, then, my husband, and heaven will reward you! He is all that is dear to me—will you tear us asunder? If ye have hearts within you, you will not. Look on his countenance—is there guilt there? Look upon his prosecutor, upon his enemy who sits before you, and oh! can you find innocence where dissipation has left its furrows, and hatred its shadows? If ye _will_ do what may seem to you justice—remember to love mercy! Draw not upon your heads the misery or the blood of a human being through the guilt of a false witness! Save, I implore you, save my husband, for he is innocent!” The judge summed up the evidence, and more than once he paused and wiped away a tear that did not disgrace his office. “Go,” he concluded, addressing the jury—“the prisoner is in your hands; and if there be a doubt upon your minds as to whether you should pronounce him guilty, give the prisoner the benefit of that doubt.” “Merciful heaven!” exclaimed Isabella, “deliver my husband—make known his innocence to these men!” She stretched her hand towards him, and cried aloud, “O my Alexander—in death—even in death, I will be yours! They shall not part us!” And, as she wept, he bent over the dock and threw his arms upon her neck, exclaiming—“Loved one, weep not. The Avenger of the oppressed will not forsake us.”