a lady of great beauty and unknown family,
probably in station beneath himself, and had
placed her under an assumed name in a lonely
cottage. After a season of affection, quarrels
had broken out, which, as would be
proved by the servant, had constantly
increased in violence. On the last occasion
when the unfortunate victim was seen alive
by her servant, a quarrel of a most fearful
description had commenced. It was
something about money. The servant had been
so much alarmed, that she had left the cottage
and gone down to her mother's, a mile away
over the hill, where she had previously been
ordered to go to obtain some poultry. From
something that passed her mother would not
allow her to return. It would then be proved
that Lord Mardall, attracted by the howling
of a dog, when out shooting the next morning,
had entered the open door of the cottage,
and had there found the prisoner's wife dead,
with a severe fracture of the skull. The
prisoner had been pursued, from some
information as to his usual course, and found
asleep in the chimney corner of the Moor
Inn, his clothes and shirt deeply stained with
blood. It could be proved that he had washed
his face and hands immediately on entering,
and attributed the blood to the fall from his
horse. But on examination no cuts were
found on his person sufficient to cause such
an effusion of blood.

But when Lord Mardall was called, he
deposed to two facts which produced a great
impression in favour of the prisoner. He saw
the body at five o'clock, and it was scarcely
cold. He had found in one of the victim's
hands a lock of hair, which she had evidently
torn from her assailant in her struggles; which
had been desperate. He had sealed it up, and
never let it out of his possession. The nails
of her other hand were broken, and were
marked with blood. She had no rings on
either of her hands, though she was in the
habit of wearing a great number; there were
marks of rings, and of one which seemed to
have been violently torn off. A packet of
plate had been found on the kitchen table, a
knife, and a loaf marked with blood.

Counsel were not allowed to speak for the
defence in those days, and the prisoner was
not in a condition to speak on the evidence
against him. Witnesses for the defence were
called, who proved that the lady wore
frequently certain peculiar bracelets. The
prisoner, who seemed stupefied by his emotions,
declined to say anything; but his counsel,
asked the maid-servant, and also the farmer
who occasionally sold meat to Orchard Spring,
if they should know the rings and bracelets
if they saw them.

He then called Richard Perkins, jailor of
the county prison, and asked him these
questions:

"Had you any prisoner committed about
the same time as the prisoner at the bar?

"I had a man called Hay-making Dick, for
horse-stealing, the day after the discovery of
the murder."

"Was it a valuable horse?"

"No; it was a mare, blind of one eye, very
old, and with a large fen spavin. I knew her
well; used to drive her in the gaol cart; but
when warm she was faster than anything
about."

"Do you suppose Hay-making Dick took
the mare to sell?"

"Certainly not. She would not fetch a
crown, except to those that knew her. No
doubt he had been up to some mischief, and
wanted to get out of the county, only luckily
he rode against the blacksmith that owned
the mare and was taken."

The judge thought these questions irrelevant;
but after some conversation, permitted
the examination to go on.

"Has Perkins searched the prisoner, and
has he found anything of value?"

The jailor produced two bracelets, four
rings—a diamond hoop, one a seal ring—
and a canvass wheat-bag containing gold,
with several French coins. On one of the
bracelets was engraved "Charles to Laura,"
and a date. In answer to another question,
he had found several severe scratches on
Dick's face, made apparently by nails, which
he declared had been done in an up and down
fight at Broad-green Fair. Also a severe raw
scar on his left temple, as if hair had been
pulled out.

At this stage of the proceedings, by order
of the judge, the prisoner Dick was brought
up. The lock of hair taken by Lord Mardall
from the murdered lady's hand was compared
with Dick's head. It matched exactly,
although Dick's hair had been cut short and
washed. Then Mr. Monley gave evidence,
that when he met the prisoner, on the night
of the murder, immediately after he had left
the cottage, there certainly was no blood on
his face or dress. The landlord of the Moon
Inn was called, and deposed, that he found
the corn, placed before the Prisoner's horse,
uneaten and much stained with blood. On
examining the horse's tongue, he saw that it
had been half-bitten off in the fall the animal
had suffered. No doubt the blood had dripped
over the young Squire.

It was a bright moonlight night shining in
the prisoner's face.

The judge summed up for an acquittal, and
the jury gave a verdict of Not Guilty, without
leaving the box.

A week after, Haymaking Dick made an
attempt to break out of prison, in which he
knocked out the brains of a turnkey with his
irons. He was tried and condemned for this,
and when hope of escape was gone, he called
a favourite turnkey to him and said, "Bill, I
killed the French woman, I knew she always
had plenty of money and jewels, and I
watched my opportunity to get 'em."

Thus ends the newspaper reports. My
uncle died of gout in his stomach on the day