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 of that poor wretch in the jail yonder, and however it may conduce to—to—unpopularity, I shall continue to visit him. I have sympathy with the erring," he said, remembering that terrible evening at The Beeches.

A heavy hand descended upon Mr. Cole's shoulder, and Colonel Berkeley's handsome face shone at him.

"Right you are, Cole. You're a little prig sometimes, but you are something of a man, sir—something of a man!"

Mr. Cole blushed with pleasure at this dubious compliment.

Olivia Berkeley's heart was touched with pity for the unfortunate negro. His ailing wife came every day to tell the same rambling and piteous story. Besides, Cave had been at work with her—and he had great power with young imaginations. Pembroke felt a certain anxiety about the case. It was one of those which gave room for the sympathetic oratory which in the country districts in the South yet obtains. He felt at first that if he could make the jury weep, his success as a lawyer would be assured and immediate. But if he failed it would mean long years of toil at his profession to gain that which by a happy inspiration he could win at a single coup. He worked hard, and prepared himself—not solely for oratory, because the Hibbses had not only engaged a formidable array of local talent, but had got one, if not two great men from afar, and the attorney-general himself, to help the