out, two men drove to the door in a post-
chaise, and inquired for him. They were
strangers, but I knew they were constables.
I ordered them refreshments in the Major's
room; and, having seen them seated before
the bread and cheese, I went out to await
the Major at a turn of the road. I told
him, as indifferently as I could, not to alarm
his wife, and asked whether he would choose
to avoid them.  His cheek flushed as I spoke, and
a look, like one I well remembered of old, came
into his face, as he said: "No;  let them
do their worst." And then, touching the pony
with the whip, he drove on as calmly as
though I had asked him what was to be done
with a heap of stones. The constables came
out at the sound of wheels, and with official
stolidity presented their warrant. The Major
glanced at the paper; and, shrugging his
shoulders, said he was quite ready to go with
them. His wife looked anxiously from one
party to the other.

"It is a summons to appear immediately
before the magistrates in the next town, to
give evidence in a case of disputed identity.
Get my carpet-bag packed directly, there's a
good little woman; I shall not be home
tonight."

She left the room, and he made no attempt
to follow her.

"I am obliged to accompany these persons
to the next town," said the Major to me.
"They are constables, come to take me on the
charge of being a returned convict. It is
unpleasant; for innocent men have been hanged
for their likeness to other people before now.
However, I hope to establish my identity; I
have a few marks to help me."

He spoke in a hard, dry, distinct voice, as
though every word were uttered with effort.
I could not speak.

"I expect to return to-morrow," continued
he; "but if I am detained, I will write to
you. Keep Mrs. Rutherford from feeling
uneasy, and use your own judgment in all
things."

His wife entered, looking tearful and
agitated. She had a presentiment of evil. His
lip quivered, as he bade her farewell; he
grasped my hand, and sprang hastily into
the post-chaise which was waiting.

The Major did not return home the next
day, or the next after that; for he was
committed to the county gaol to take his trial at
the next assizes. At first, the magistrates
were extremely unwilling to entertain the
charge; and they would have dismissed it, if,
unluckily for the Major, Sir Gervaise Skinner
had not been on the bench. He was a staunch
old Tory, and had been terribly scandalised
by the Major's liberal politics. No crime
could, in his opinion, be too dreadful for such
a man to commit; and this accusation seemed
only the natural explanation of the Major's
character. He insisted that the accused
should be remanded, to give time to inquire
further into the matter. The Major himself
did not furnish so prompt an exculpation as
might have been expected: he did not seem
to have any friends to whose testimony he
could appeal. After two remands, he was
fully committed to take his trial, and I had
to break the matter to his wife, who took it
with a composure that surprised me. She
thought her husband a persecuted man, but
her faith in his innocence did not waver for
an instant.

All that followed may be read in the
newspapers of the time. It remains on
record as one of the most celebrated causes
ever tried; and, although it was certainly
decided by judge and jury, yet public opinion
was much divided, and even I have my doubts
still about the matter. You shall judge for
yourself.

The old tinker, rascal as he was, told a
story that, if true, was conclusive enough.
He had been sentenced to seven years'
transportation at the same assizes that saw
George Marston sentenced for life. This part
of his story was proved. He had gone out
in the same convict ship, and had seen George
every day during the voyage. George was
put in some sort of authority over him, and
excited his ill-will. When they landed, he
worked in the same gang with George. He
gave minute details of George's escape, and
of the savage onslaught upon the overseer,
which resulted in death. A body was
discovered some time after, in a state of
decomposition, which was supposed to be that of
George Marston, the escaped convict; but
he, the tinker, had reasons of his own
for not believing it to be George Marston's
body. He swore positively that the Major
and George Marston were one and the
same person. Two other persons, convicts
who had served their time, and who had seen
and conversed with George Marston before
he effected his escape, were positive as to his
identity with the Major. Several persons
from the village where he was bom, and lived
before he was transported, recognised him
the moment they saw him. The surgeon who
had dressed the wounds received in the fatal
affray with the keepers, identified him. There
were wounds also on the person of the Major
corresponding with those recorded in the
prison entry, and in the surgeon's own
private journal. Mr. Messent, the lawyer
who had defended him, now a very old man,
but in perfect possession of his faculties,
recognised him as his old client. I was then
called upon to give my evidence. I was known
to have been George's friend, and a great
deal was expected from me; but I did not
feel free to swear either way. I did not deny
the strong resemblance; but, living beside him
so many years, I had also perceived differences
which I could not reconcile; so, after a great
deal of browbeating and cross-examination, I
was allowed to depart. I had at least thrown
a doubt upon the case.

The story the Major told about himself,