"The lash!" he echoed,--"No, by ----! The man does not live who dares speak of such a thing." "I live, and I speak of it," responded the judge, calmly. "You forget that you are in my power; and, as you are well aware, (it is a maxim upon which you have acted all your life,) 'MIGHT MAKES RIGHT.' And why should you shudder at the mention of the lash? What is the torture, the disgrace of the lash, compared with the torture and disgrace which your deeds have inflicted upon thousands of your fellow men?" Godlike uttered a frightful oath.--"You will drive me mad!" and he ground his teeth in impotent rage. It was a pitiful condition for a great statesman. "No, no; the lash is too light a punishment for a criminal of your magnitude. Prisoner, stand up and hear the sentence of the court!" Gabriel had a powerful will, but the will which spoke in the voice of that old man, his judge, was more powerful than his own. Reluctantly he arose to his feet, his broad chest panting and heaving beneath its scarlet attire. "Unbind his arms." The masked attendants obeyed. Gabriel's bands were free. "Secure him, at the first sign of resistance or of disobedience." The judge calmly proceeded-- "Gabriel Godlike, hear the sentence of the court. You will affix your own proper signature to two documents, which will now be presented to you. After which you are free." Gabriel could not repress an ejaculation. The simplicity of the sentence struck him with astonishment. "Hand the prisoner the first document, which he may read," said the judge. Pale and trembling, Esther advanced, and, passing the table, placed a paper in the hands of Godlike, which he read: "NEW YORK, Dec. 24th, 1844. "The undersigned, Gabriel Godlike, hereby acknowledges that he was this day detected in the act of attempting a gross outrage upon the person of Esther Royalton, whom he had inveigled to a house of improper report, No. --, ---- street, New York: an outrage which, investigated before a court of law, would justly consign him to the State's Prison. "Signed in presence of: { {." No words can picture the rage which corrugated Godlike's visage as he perused this singular document. "No, I will not sign!"--he fixed his flaming eyes upon Esther's pallid face--"not if you rend me into fragments." "Esther," said the judge, calmly, "call the gentlemen from the neighboring apartment. Tell them that the purpose for which I summoned them will be explained in this room." Esther cast a glance upon Godlike's flushed visage, and moved to the door,-- "Stay! I will--I will!" Shame and mortification choked his utterance. He advanced to the table and signed his name to the paper. The judge drew his broad-brimmed hat deeper over his brows, and advanced to the table.--"I will witness your signature," he quietly observed, and signed a name which Godlike would have given five years of his life to have read.