Brockett guessed the order he had wished to give, and the big key slid around in the old-fashioned lock of the jury-room door.

Heavy-visaged and hesitating, the twelve men filed into court, and at sight of them John North's heart seemed to die within his breast.

He no longer hoped nor doubted, he knew their verdict,--he was caught in some intricate web of circumstance! A monstrous injustice was about to be done him, and in the very name of justice itself! The jurors, awkward in their self-consciousness, crossed the room and, as intangible as it was potent, a wave of horror went with them.

There was a noisy scraping of chairs as they took their seats, and then a deathlike silence.
The clerk glanced up inquiringly into the white face that was bent on him.

A scarcely perceptible inclination of the head answered him, and he turned to the jury.
"Gentlemen, have you arrived at a true verdict, and chosen one of your number to speak for you ?" he asked.
Martin Howe, the first man in the front row of the two solemn lines of jurors, came awkwardly to his feet and said almost in a whisper: "We have.