By this time, the subpoena for the witnesses had been returned, and the persons summoned made their appearance.  The overt act was so notorious, that it had not been considered necessary to summon many, and the few needed were soon hunted up.  Hereupon, Mr. Ketchum having intimated a readiness, on the part of the State, to proceed, Mr. Tippit, after some conversation with Judge Bernard and Pownal, Holden refusing to hold any intercourse with him also, entered the plea of “not guilty,” for his client.

The hour of noon had now arrived, and that being the dinner-time of most present, Justice Miller yielded to the request of Mr. Tippet, and the pleadings of his own stomach, to adjourn the sitting of the court till two o’clock in the afternoon, in order, not only to gratify the demands of appetite, but, also, that the counsel might have an opportunity to confer with his client and prepare his defence.  Ketchum remonstrated against the delay as unreasonable, but the Justice, who felt no disposition to hurry himself, and was, at bottom, not an unamiable man, told him, there would be time enough to finish the case in the afternoon, provided he and Mr. Tippit did not talk too long.  Meanwhile, upon the promise of Judge Bernard to be responsible for the safety of the prisoner, Holden was allowed to depart with him, and Pownal, who had been invited to dinner with the Judge, accompanied them to his house.

Here they found Faith, in a state of high excitement.  “I,”—­she said, seizing the old man’s hands, while the tears streamed down her cheeks; “I am to blame for this persecution.  O, Father Holden, if I had not begged, and almost forced you to go with us that evening, this would not have happened.”

“Dear child!” said Holden, “afflict not thyself.  Thou and I are but as flying dust on the eternal wheels of destiny.  Fear not, nor let thy heart be troubled.  Even yet, the Lord will make bare his arm and I shall escape, even as a bird from the snare of the fowler.”

But Faith partook not of the enthusiast’s confidence.  To her alarmed imagination, the deliverance of Holden seemed as improbable as that of Daniel from the den of lions, and the impending doom almost as dreadful as that destined for the prophet.  She knew what the consequences would be were Holden found guilty; for, soon after the reading of the warrant by Pownal, its contents had been communicated to her, and she had been informed respecting the punishment.  To her delicate and sensitive mind, the charge itself—­that of profane speaking and reviling, was inexpressibly revolting.  She knew that the condition of mind such language implies, was entirely wanting, and that it was in the performance of what he considered a duty, the old man had spoken.  Father Holden capable of profane speaking!  He, whose heart was the seat of all noble emotions; he, who had renounced the world, and trampled its temptations and vanities under foot; he, who living in the world, was not of the