“And do you think that thought ever for a moment leaves me, Agnes?  Indeed, I think that while I have been skulking and hiding, hunted and pursued from one place to another, and since I have been shut up in these walls, every harrowing thought that could possibly be brought before my mind, has been dwelt upon till it seemed sometimes as if I should go mad.  I have mourned for Cranston as if I had no hand in his death; I have thought of him in all his hope and promise; I have thought of his poor mother and sisters, till the tears have rained from my cheeks; and I believe I have been sincere in my feeling, that if by suffering an ignominious death, I could restore my murdered friend to life, I should be glad to be the sacrifice.  And then when I thought of myself as the cause of all this suffering, it seemed as if it ought not to be a matter of wonder or complaint if the verdict should be, that such a wretch should cumber the earth no longer.  And yet, Agnes, in the eye of Him who looketh only on the heart, I believe I was as much a murderer when I struck down my school-mate in the play-ground as now.  For in the height of my passion then, I think I should have been glad to have killed him.  But the thought of murder did not enter my heart when I struck poor Cranston; it was a sort of instinctive movement; the work of a moment; and had not the murderous weapon been in my hand, the effects of the blow would have been but slight.”

Many such conversations as these passed between the young prisoner and his sister, during those two months preceding the trial—­every day of which, except during church hours on Sunday, Agnes passed with him from morning till night, almost as much a prisoner as he, except that hers was not compulsory.  This time was faithfully improved by Agnes, in endeavoring to lead her brother to right views upon the subject of his own condition in the sight of a Holy God.  He was very gentle and teachable now, and before the day of trial came, Agnes hoped that her brother was a true penitent, though his own hopes of pardon were faint and flickering.

Mr. Malcolm too, often visited young Elwyn, in whom he was most deeply interested; and his gentle teachings and fervent prayers were eagerly listened to by the youthful prisoner.  Mr. W——­, his counsel, came often, also, but in his endeavors to keep up the spirits of Lewie and his sister, his manner was so trifling and flippant that it grated on their feelings painfully.  He was working as laboriously it seemed, as the enormous fee promised him would warrant, leaving no stone unturned which would throw some favorable light on young Elwyn’s case.  Thus days and weeks passed on, and in the midst of increasing agitation and excitement, the day of trial came.

When the brother and sister parted the evening before the trial, Agnes once more renewed the entreaties she had so often made that Lewie would allow her to remain by his side during the painful events of the coming day.  But his refusal was firm and unyielding.