"Which arrived too late to save the other poor soul. If he should have suffered wrongfully: but I can't believe it! God's ways are past finding out," answered his wife, softly, and with a gentle pressure of her palms together in front of her bosom, as she said the last words. Then presently she passed on.

"Your wife's words," said Mr Arom, "have touched the very place where I've been feeling tender ever since we heard of this extraordinary confession. My visit to you this evening was to speak of the possible perversion of justice. My brother at Sandyford, perhaps you don't know, was one of the jury that found poor Ned Roberts guilty. He's a sort of partner with me."

"Oh, he was on the jury?"

"He was, sir; and my mind misgives me that this discovery of Roberts's innocence may give him much trouble of conscience which will be a great affliction, and a detriment, too, now that trade promises to be brisk. He's an anxious man, is Henry."

"I don't see that the jury have reason to reproach themselves, although, no doubt, this matter has had an untoward issue," said the preacher.

"The innocent blood, sir; the innocent blood," returned Mr Arom.

"Consider: they were obliged to try the man: they gave a verdict according to the evidence: and, until we were startled by the arrival of the too tardy respite, and the few particulars of the confession which have since transpired, nobody doubted the justice of the conviction."

"It may yet prove to be all right as it now stands," said Mrs Parkins, coming up to them again.

"Do you think so?" asked Mr Arom, who was much puzzled what to think.

"Yes, surely; what possible motive could George have for killing his uncle? And the poor man who has suffered was found to be possessed of the very bank-notes which Mr Bateman is known to have had at the time when the deed was perpetrated."

"Very true, ma'am ; but had Roberts a motive for such a deed? A wild, ungodly young man he was, it is true; but not one likely, as we should have thought, to imbrue his hands in blood.”

"I trust I do not wrong the dead; but there was a motive. The unfortunate man probably did not commit murder deliberately; but he was wild,

thoughtless, and wilful, every one says. We all know he could not have felt very kindly to Mr Bateman; and that wicked letter to Mrs Bateman shows that he wanted money. He was seen near the spot where the body was found, on the night when the crime was committed. But then I know that he never would confess, even in the face of death; and what was looked upon as hardness of heart may now be recognised as conscious innocence. And if he is innocent, poor George-but I cannot believe that George is guilty." And Mrs Parkins walked away again.

"The deceased persistently refused to see any brother of our persuasion," remarked Mr Parkins, "or I might have been in a position to speak of his state of mind. The jail chaplain, I understand, was impressed by his protestation of innocence even before the other's confession, and thought he died penitent."

"If he has died wrongfully, 'tis a dreadful reflection for us all, and specially for the jury, that such a miscarriage of justice should have occurred. The Lord's ways are inscrutable."

"In this case," answered Mr Parkins, "the dead man is more implicated than you may suppose, if I

am rightly informed of the circumstances, and has much to answer for in regard to Mr and Mrs Bateman. I judge no man, but the will of God has not suffered this man to live; and now that there is reason to believe him innocent of the crime for which he died, he is represented as very guilty in other respects. Innocent blood, you said, Mr Arom. If the confession be true, and if some facts of his former history which are coming to light be true, he was heartless and cruel, though perhaps not a criminal in the eye of the law."

Indeed, sir! I should like to mention to Henry what you say. It might ease his mind and leave him more free to attend to spiritual concerns, as well as clear his head for his earthly business."

"At present I am not certain of my facts, and I should prefer your not mentioning what I have said. But I shall be better informed shortly. George Bateman, now that his heart is once more touched, does not avoid our brethren, if the unhappy Roberts did. Indeed I have reason to believe that it was a brother's words, prompted and strengthened from above, which produced George's confession. Sharper than a two-edged sword, brother Arom, was the faithful word which pierced and persuaded that

guilty heart. In a few days, perhaps, I may give you well-authenticated particulars."

""Tis an odd thing, and I don't know what you'll say to my mentioning of it, brother Parkins, but since I heard of George Bateman's jeopardy, I can't help thinking now and again of that old story of the curse that was upon the Batemans' house. You've heard of it, probably?"

"I have heard some idle tale such as one hears in plenty in villages and small towns. But I think it wiser not to open the mind to superstitious vanities. These things are found generally to have no foundation at all, and when they come to be sifted, they lose even that element of wonder which caused them to be received and circulated."

Mrs Parkins came by again as Mr Arom was about to reply, and she paused and listened to him.

"The element of wonder has got more into this. story the longer it has lasted, instead of being took out of it. I don't mind when it began, but I've heard my father tell of it, and when he told it, mind you, there was nothing to make it very remarkable. Time alone could show whether it was worth notice or not; and time did show some uncommon curious things, though I confess I didn't much remark them