In this miserable condition poor Hopcraft lost his spirits, but he never lost his appetite. It was the grand feature of his constitution—even overtopping his brute strength; had that failed, he would have collapsed and gone altogether; but his food did him little good; he moped and lived on, often crying like a child through whole nights; and now he came forth with the full conviction that he was only a few days from the gallows. The counsel for the crown, in stating the case against Hopcraft, gave a clear account of the former trial of Mr. Woodburn for the alleged murder of Mr. Drury, and then of the discovery of the real murderers in the persons of Scammel and the prisoner. At the mention of the prisoner, Hopcraft cried out in a voice of terror, “No, sir, it wor na me—it wor Scammel!” The counsel paused a moment, gave a glance at the prisoner,—the jailer who stood by the dock told Hopcraft not to interrupt,—and the barrister went on. He painted in strong colours the desperate character of Scammel; showed the causes, all now fully brought to light on the clearest evidence; Scammel’s spirit of revenge against Mr. Drury; and then described the scene minutely at Wink’s Ferry. Here the judge observed to the counsel,—“that he had heard a strange story of the murder, after being for two years involved in deepest mystery, and bringing a most respectable and estimable gentleman into jeopardy and trial for his life, being brought to light by a dream. Is that so?” he asked, “or am I dreaming, Mr. Whiteman?” “It is perfectly true, my lord,” said the barrister. “It was not only indicated, but absolutely described in detail, every circumstance as accurately as if the dreamer had been himself on the spot.” “And pray, what highly imaginative old lady could this dreamer be? But I think you said ‘himself?’” “Yes, it was a gentleman of this town, my lord.” “His name is not Bunyan, is it?” asked the judge. There was a smile on every face both at the bar and in the crowd, and some slight titters amongst the ladies in the gallery. “Possibly the young gentleman may be descended from the great dreamer of Bedford, but he does not bear his name,” said the counsel; he also looking rather merry over the matter. “He is a learned, and, I understand, a very able and accomplished physician here, who has, moreover, travelled and seen a good deal of the world, moves in the first society, and would be taken to be most perfectly wide awake in general.” “Very odd,” said the judge. “I would like very much, Mr. Whiteman, to peruse the account, if you happen to have it.”