Now, of all these circumstances which tended to establish Captain Corbet’s perfect freedom from all possible blame, Mr. Long was not neglectful of a single one. He gathered them all up in his mind, and after all the witnesses had been examined, prepared to hurl them with tremendous force at the head of the miserable, and now almost panic-stricken, prosecutor. Mr. Long was a man of magnificent presence---tall, leonine in aspect, and impressive in manner; he joined to these advantages a wonderful acuteness of thought, and a copious flow of eloquent language. Besides, he was stung by the cowardly act of the prosecutor, who attacked poor Captain Corbet, instead of attacking himself, who was the real culprit, if there were any culprit; and so he determined to read that man a lesson which he would always remember, and prepared to pour out all the full vials of his wrath upon his miserable head. No damage whatever had been done, or could have been done. And yet this man tried to ruin Captain Corbet out of petty spite. That was enough for Mr. Long. He began by a severe review of the prosecutor’s statements, and a still more severe criticism of his charges for damages. Old Zeke’s rat was once more brought out for the benefit of the village audience, and light jesting was mingled with scathing denunciation. Old Zeke himself did not escape, and Mr. Long asked his hearers to judge what kind of a cause it was, which had need of such a witness. Then he showed the enormous difference between the utmost value of the potatoes, even if all were spoiled, and the charge made by the prosecutor. The fact that the prosecutor had sworn to five hundred dollars’ damage was enlarged upon in indignant language, which accused that prosecutor of nothing less than perjury. Then, taking all these facts together, he sought for a motive, and could find nothing else than extreme avarice or excessive malignity. And against whom? Against Captain Corbet, one of our oldest, most virtuous, most respected, and most venerable citizens; one whose character had never before been impeached; one who was loved and revered by all; who never had a quarrel, who had never made an enemy, and who had never stood in a court of law before until this day. At this there was an immense sensation. The boys and the villagers mingled together in crowding near to Captain Corbet, in order to show their sympathy with his unmerited woes. “And who was Captain Corbet,” he asked, at length, “against whom this ruinous charge had been made?” This was a question full of interest, for it led him to consider the character of the defendant. He alluded to his many virtues, his reputation, his popularity; he touched also, in gentle terms, upon his recent loss in the destruction of the Antelope; and by skilfully intermingling the excellences of Captain Corbet with his afflictions, he excited still more the commiseration of his hearers.