There was a pause here, and a murmur of approbation ran through the court.  The opposing counsel, too, found that they had been led astray, and that to examine her any further would be only a weakening of their own cause.  They attached, however, no blame of insincerity to her, but visited with much bitterness the unexpected capsize which they had got, on the stupid head of Doldrum, their attorney.  They consequently determined to ask her no more questions, and she was about to withdraw, when Fox rose up, and said: 

“Miss Folliard, I am counsel for the prisoner at the bar, and I trust you will answer me a few questions.  I perceive, madam, that you are fatigued of this scene; but the questions I shall put to you will be few and brief.  An attachment has existed for some time between you and the prisoner at the bar?  You need not be ashamed, madam, to reply to it.”

“I am not ashamed,” she replied proudly, “and it is true.”

“Was your father aware of that attachment at any time?”

“He was, from a very early period.”

“Pray, how did he discover it?”

“I myself told him of my love for Reilly.”

“Did your father give his consent to that attachment?”

“Conditionally he did.”

“And pray, Miss Folliard, what were the conditions?”

“That Reilly should abjure his creed, and then no further obstacles should stand in the way of our union, he said.”

“Was ever that proposal mentioned to Reilly?”

“Yes, I mentioned it to him myself; but, well as he loved me, he would suffer to go into an early grave, he said, sooner than abandon his religion; and I loved him a thousand times better for his noble adherence to it.”

“Did he not save your father’s life?”

“He did, and the life of a faithful and attached old servant at the same time.”

Now, although this fact was generally known, yet the statement of it here occasioned a strong expression of indignation against the man who could come forward and prosecute the individual, to whose courage and gallantry he stood indebted for his escape from murder.  The uncertainty of Folliard’s character, however, was so well known, and his whimsical changes of opinion such a matter of proverb among the people, that many persons said to each other: 

“The cracked old squire is in one of his tantrums now; he’ll be a proud man if he can convict Reilly to-day; and perhaps to-morrow, or in a month hence, he’ll be cursing; himself for what he did—­for that’s his way.”

“Well, Miss Folliard,” said Fox, “we will not detain you any longer; this to you must be a painful scene; you may retire, madam.”

[Illustration:  PAGE 175—­Give that ring to the prisoner]

She did not immediately withdraw, but taking a green silk purse out of her bosom, she opened it, and, after inserting her long, white, taper fingers into it, she brought out a valuable emerald ring, and placing it in the hands of the crier, she said: