sunbeams were only beginning to fall high and yellow on the ceiling,
through the heated stifling atmosphere, heavy with anxiety and
suspense. Doctor May was thinking of the meeting after the
acquittal, of the telegram to Stoneborough, of the sister's revival,
and of Ethel's greeting.

Still the judge had to sum up; and all eyes turned on him, knowing
that the fate of the accused would probably depend on the colouring
that the facts adduced would assume in his hands. Flora, who met him
in society, was struck by the grave and melancholy bracing, as it
were, of the countenance, that she had seen as kindly and bright as
her father's; and the deep, full voice, sad rather than stern, the
very tone of which conveyed to every mind how heavy was the
responsibility of justice and impartiality. In effect, the very
force of the persuasions made for the defence, unanswered by the
prosecution, rendered it needful for him to give full weight to the
evidence for the other side; namely, the prisoner's evident
impatience of his position, and premeditated flight, the coincidence
of the times, the being the last person seen to enter the room, and
with the very weapon that had been the instrument of the crime; the
probability that the deceased had himself opened the drawer, the open
window, the flight, and the missing sum being found on his person,
the allegation that the receipt would be found in the pocket-book,
unsupported by any testimony as to the practice of the deceased; the
strangeness of leaving the premises so much too early for the train,
and, by his own account, leaving a person prowling in the court,
close to his uncle's window. No opinion was given; but there was
something that gave a sense that the judge felt it a crushing weight
of evidence. Yet so minutely was every point examined, so carefully
was every indication weighed which could tend to establish the