it is absurd, against an honourable man and a Crown official. If you had been able to produce a particle of evidence against my father, a particle of evidence to show that what you imagine is not as hollow as a dream, the coroner would have hearkened and acted. Are you aware that this bandying of accusations is an indictable offence? My father has not hurt you in any way."
This elicited a chorus of cries.
"He has spoiled my shoeing." "He has prevented the making of the road." "My wife will never have blanc-mange again." And Samuel Ceely, now arrived on the scene, in whispering voice added, "All my beautiful darlings twelve of them, as healthy as apples, and took their vaccination well—all gone down the Cleave."
It really seemed as if the happiness, the hopes, the prosperity of all Orleigh, had gone over the edge of the cliff with his lordship.
"I repeat it," exclaimed the young man, waxing warm; "I repeat it, my father never did you an injury. You are now charging him with hurting you, because you suffer through his lordship's death, and you are eager to find some one on whom to cast blame. As for any real sorrow and sympathy, you have none; wrapped up in your petty and selfish ends."
A voice: "Fax is fax—he did kill Lord Lamerton."
The tailor: "Human nature is human nature, and nobody can deny he prophesied my lord's death."
"I dare you to charge my father with the crime," cried young Saltren. "I warn you. I have laid by a little money, and I will spend it in prosecuting the man who does."
"We all do. Prosecute the parish," rose in a general shout.
"My father is incapable of the crime."
"We have no quarrel with you, young Jingles," roared a
