principal. Whether, in discharging this function,
Downie was more rigid than his
predecessor in office, or whether he became
stricter in the performance of it at one time
than another, cannot now be ascertained;
but there can be no doubt that he closed the
gate with austere punctuality, and that
those who were not in the common hall
within a minute of the prescribed time, were
shut out, and were afterwards reprimanded
and fined by the principal and professors.
The students became irritated at this strictness,
and took every petty means of annoying
the sacrist; he, in his turn, applied the screw
at other points of academic routine, and a
fierce war soon began to rage between the
collegians and the humble functionary.
Downie took care that in all his proceedings
lie kept within the strict letter of the law;
but his opponents were not so careful, and
the decisions of the rulers were uniformly
against them, and in favour of Downie.
Reprimands and fines having failed in
producing due subordination, rustication,
suspension, and even the extreme sentence of
expulsion had to be put in force; and, in the
end, law and order prevailed. But a secret
and deadly grudge continued to be
entertained against Downie. Various of
schemes of revenge were thought of.

Downie was, in common with teachers and
taught, enjoying the leisure of the short New
Year's vacation—the pleasure being no doubt
greatly enhanced by the annoyances to which
he had been subjected during the recent
bickerings—when, as he was one evening seated
with his family in his official residence at the
gate, a messenger informed him that a
gentleman at a neighbouring hotel wished to speak
with him. Downie obeyed the summons, and
was ushered from one room into another, till at
length he found himself in a large apartment
hung with black, and lighted by a solitary
candle. After waiting for some time in this
strange place, about fifty figures also dressed
in black, and with black masks on their faces,
presented themselves. They arranged
themselves in the form of a Court, and Downie,
pale with terror, was given to understand
that he was about to be put on his trial.

A judge took his seat on the bench; a clerk
and public prosecutor sat below; a jury was
empanelled in front; and witnesses and
spectators stood around.  Downie at first set
down the whole affair as a joke; but the
proceedings were conducted with such persistent
gravity, that, in spite of himself, he began to
believe in the genuine mission of the awful
tribunal. The clerk read an indictment,
charging him with conspiring against the
liberties of the students; witnesses were
examined in due form, the public prosecutor
addressed the jury; and the judge
summed up.

"Gentlemen," said Downie, " the joke has
been carried far enough—it is getting late,
and my wife and family will be getting
anxious about me. If I have been too strict
with you in time past, I am sorry for it, and
I assure you I will take more care in
future."

"Gentlemen of the jury," said the judge,
without paying the slightest attention to this
appeal, " consider your verdict; and, if you
wish to retire, do so."

The jury retired. During their absence
the most profound silence was observed; and
except renewing the solitary candle that burnt
beside the judge, there was not the slightest
movement.

The jury returned and recorded a verdict of GUILTY.

The judge solemnly assumed a huge black
cap, and addressed the prisoner.

"Richard Downie! The jury have
unanimously found you guilty of conspiring against
the just liberty and immunities of the students
of Marischal College. You have wantonly
provoked and insulted those inoffensive lieges
for some months, and your punishment will
assuredly be condign. You must prepare for
death. In fifteen minutes the sentence of the
Court will be carried into effect."

The judge placed his watch on the bench.
A block, an axe, and a bag of sawdust
were brought into the centre of the room. A
figure more terrible than any that had yet
appeared came forward, and prepared to act
the part of doomster.

It was now past midnight, there was no
sound audible save the ominous ticking of the
judge's watch. Downie became more and
more alarmed.

"For any sake, gentlemen," said the
terrified man, " let me home. I promise
that you never again shall have cause for
complaint."

"Richard Downie," remarked the judge,
"you are vainly wasting the few moments
that are left you on earth. You are in the
hands of those who must have your life. No
human power can save you. Attempt to
utter one cry, and you are seized, and your
doom completed before you can utter another.
Every one here present has sworn a solemn
oath never to reveal the proceedings of this
night; they are known to none but
ourselves; and when the object for which we
have met is accomplished, we shall disperse
unknown to any one. Prepare, then, for
death; other five minutes will be allowed,
but no more."

The unfortunate man in an agony of deadly terror
raved and shrieked for mercy; but the
avengers paid no heed to his cries. His
fevered, trembling lips then moved as if in
silent prayer; for he felt that the brief space
between him and eternity was but as a few
more tickings of that ominous watch.

"Now!" exclaimed the judge.

Four persons stepped forward and seized
Downie, on whose features a cold clammy
sweat had burst forth. They bared his neck,
and made him kneel before the block.