same as had remained to the day of his death;
that he had seen him sign it, and also the
witnesses, William Slade and Joseph Lawson—
the last since dead. He said that his father
had often called him his heir; and he put in
letters wherein that expression was repeated
many times, amidst reiterated assurances of
his love and trust. But, he could show none,
nay not so much as a line of his father's
writing after the date of the codicil. This he
slurred over as well as he could, and his
counsel protected him. He also swore, that his
sister could imitate his father's handwriting
perfectly, also his style of expression; in proof
whereof he put in certain other letters, written
in girlish fun years ago, confessed to and
undisputed. To this he added, that the codicil
was, to the best of his belief, not in the
handwriting of his father; whom he had
never offended, and who could not, therefore,
have had any reason for so suddenly
disinheriting him; that it was a forgery written
by his sister. The counsel for the
prosecutor had argued, that this was not so
improbable, seeing that the witnesses were
Paul Lefevre, the betrothed of the
prisoner, who would consequently share with
her, and the old nurse, since dead—the wet-
nurse and foster-mother of the accused.
"Conveniently dead," said the counsel; for
which expression he was reprimanded by the
judge. This was the case for the prosecution.
Magdalen's only plea to all this was a
simple denial. The counsel for her defence
stated, that she had neither forged the codicil,
nor been even made acquainted with its existence.
Her father had forbidden her to send
for her brother during his last illness— which
point had been made much of by Andrew and
his counsel—he was evidently very angry
with him.Magdalen did not know why;
but he refused to hear his name, and most
peremptorily refused to see him. But,as her
father had destroyed or removed the whole
correspondence with the insurance offices,
with which Andrew Trevelyan had been
endeavouring to obtain money on post-obits
on his father's life (at least she had not
found a line of it), nothing like a reason
for the change asserted to have taken
place in him, was able to be given.The
assertion did her, therefore, a great deal
of harm, seeing that it was unable to be
substantiated by evidence. Horace looked
up to her and nodded, and smiled after
her counsel had concluded; but his eyes were
bloodshot, and his lips had turned quite blue,
—for he knew the painful effect which this
unsupported assertion must have on the
jury, and the handle it would give to
Andrew's counsel. He looked again and again
at his watch,and cursed the dragging hour
in his heart.Then he conquered that passing
fit of despondency, and set to work and hope
again.

Paul was examined next. His agitation,
the uncertain hesitating voice in which he
answered the questions put to him, his
changeful colour, and timid manner, all
made a very bad impression on both
the jury and the public. Few said he
was sensitive; many that he too was guilty
—a participator in Magdalen's imputed
crime. Horace was in despair. To the
question directly put, and apparently easy
to be answered, if he saw Mr. Trevelyan
sign that codicil, he gave such a hesitating
answer; he suffered himself to be so
perplexed, bewildered, and brow-beaten; he got
himself entangled in so many hopeless
contradictions, and made such awkward
admissions, that more than one of the jury
exchanged glances,—and one, an old friend of
Magdalen's, shook his head and sighed.
When he was ordered to stand down,—" You
have said enough, sir, for us, and too much
for the prisoner's cause," said the counsel for
the prosecution;—he had entangled the whole
matter in an inextricable web of confusion
and suspicion.

Magdalen looked at him grandly and
coldly as he passed. Her lip slightly curled,
but not unkindly. Her eyes met those
of Horace fixed mournfully, but very
tenderly, on her; and, for the first time, hers
drooped and her lip quivered; but it was
not her trial that she was thinking of.

The case was drawing to a close, and still it
was not four o'clock. Horace besought her
counsel to delay it as much as possible, and by
so doing, weakened the cause yet more ; when
at last the hands pointed to five minutes before
four, and the messenger who had been stationed
at the post-office, rushed in, breathless with a
packet in his hand. Horace seized it, saw
at one glance that it came from London,
tore open the envelope, and observed that
his agent there had enclosed certain letters
and documents with the post-mark "Spain"
upon them, and darted upon that which was
signed " William Slade:"

Most important evidence, this, which a post
might have lost!

The first letter read aloud was the following,
addressed to Horace Rutherford, Esq.

DEAR SIR,— It is with no small surprise and
indignation that I hear of the dastardly attempt of young
Trevelyan against the honour and existence of his
sister; not that I ought to have said surprise, for
my knowledge of that young man's character has
been of many years' standing, and from too undeniable
sources, to allow me ever to feel surprise at any crime
he may commit. I am, however, most happy to be
able to contribute to the establishment of my god-
daughter's happiness; and, while unwilling to trust
such precious documents as those which I now enclose
to the hazard of the post, yet, seeing no better
means before me, I send them to you, in the full
faith and hope that they may arrive in time, and be
found sufficient. Pray present my most affectionate
love to Miss Trevelyan, and believe me, dear sir, in
the common interest we both have in this case, yours
faithfully,                                  WILLIAM  SLADE

Mr Slade's handwriting having been