He had been instructed over and over again as to the line of his defence, and cautioned against candour for himself and delicacy towards others, till he had more than once to declare that he had no intention of throwing his life away; but the lawyers agreed in heartily deploring the rules that thus deprived the accused of the assistance of an advocate in examining witnesses and defending himself.  All depended, as they knew and told Sir Edmund Nutley, on the judge and jury.  Now Mr. Baron Hatsel had shown himself a well-meaning but weak and vacillating judge, whose summing up was apt rather to confuse than to elucidate the evidence; and as to the jury, Mr. Lee scanned their stolid countenances somewhat ruefully when they were marshalled before the prisoner, to be challenged if desirable.  A few words passed, into which the judge inquired.

“I am reminded, my Lord,” said Colonel Archfield, bowing, “that I once incurred Mr. Holt’s displeasure as a mischievous boy by throwing a stone which injured one of his poultry; but I cannot believe such a trifle would bias an honest man in a question of life and death.”

Nevertheless the judge put aside Mr. Holt.

“I like his spirit,” whispered Mr. Harcourt.

“But,” returned Lee, “I doubt if he has done himself any good with those fellows by calling it a trifle to kill an old hen.  I should like him to have challenged two or three more moody old Whiggish rascals; but he has been too long away from home to know how the land lies.”

“Too generous and high-spirited for this work,” sighed Sir Edmund, who sat with them.

The indictment was read, the first count being “That of malice aforethought, by the temptation of the Devil, Charles Archfield did wilfully kill and slay Peregrine Oakshott,” etc.  The second indictment was that “By misadventure he had killed and slain the said Peregrine Oakshott.”  To the first he pleaded ‘Not guilty;’ to the second ‘Guilty.’

Tall, well-made, manly, and soldierly he stood, with a quiet set face, while Mr. Cowper proceeded to open the prosecution, with a certain compliment to the prisoner and regret at having to push the case against one who had so generously come forward on behalf of a kinsman; but he must unwillingly state the circumstances that made it doubtful, nay, more than doubtful, whether the prisoner’s plea of mere misadventure could stand.  The dislike to the unfortunate deceased existing among the young Tory country gentlemen of the county was, he should prove, intensified in the prisoner on account of not inexcusable jealousies, as well as of the youthful squabbles which sometimes lead to fatal results.  On the evening of the 30th of June 1688 there had been angry words between the prisoner and the deceased on Portsdown Hill, respecting the prisoner’s late lady.  At four or five o’clock on the ensuing morning, the 1st of July, the one fell by the sword of the other in the then