The wily villain, caught in his own trap, hesitated.  He was tempted to deny that the plot against Mildred was at his instigation; but, like the girl, he saw that the judge had mysterious information on the subject, and he could not tell how far this knowledge went.  If he entered on a series of denials he might be confronted by another witness.  The young man who had been sent to identify the girl, and whose unexpected presence had brought such disaster, might have been concealed in the passage-way, and so have seen and heard all.  With the fear of an indictment for perjury before his eyes the fellow began to whine.

“I was only trying to protect the interests of my employers.  I had suspected the Jocelyn girl—­” At this there arose from the court-room a loud and general hiss, Which the judge repressed, as he sternly interposed,

“We have nothing to do with your suspicions.  Do you deny the testimony?”

“No, sir; but—­”

“That’s enough.  No words; step down.”  Then turning to Mildred, he said kindly and courteously, “Miss Jocelyn, it gives me pleasure to inform you that your innocence has been clearly shown.  I should also inform you that this man Bissel has made himself liable to suit for damages, and I hope that you will prosecute him.  I am sorry that you have been subjected to so painful an ordeal.  You are now at liberty.”

“I thank—­oh, I thank and bless your Honor,” said Mildred, with such a depth of gratitude and gladness in her face that the judge smiled to himself several times that day.  It was like a burst of June sunshine after a storm.  While the witness was admitting the facts which would prove her guiltless, Mildred was scarcely less agitated than the wretched girl herself; but her strong excitement showed itself not by tears, but rather in her dilated eyes, nervously trembling form, and quickly throbbing bosom.  Now that the tension was over she sank on a bench near, and covering her eyes, from which gushed a torrent of tears, with her hands, murmured audibly, “Thank God! oh, thank God!  He has not deserted me after all.”

Looks of strong sympathy were bent upon her from all parts of the room, and even the judge himself was so much affected that he took prompt refuge in the duties of his office, and summoning the foreman of the shop, said, “You may inform your employers how matters stand.”  This functionary had been regarding the later stage of the proceedings in undisguised astonishment, and now hastened to depart with his tidings, the floor-walker following him with the aspect of a whipped cur, and amid the suppressed groans and hisses of the spectators.  The girl, too, slunk away after them in the hope of making peace with her employers.

The judge now observed that Roger had buttonholed a reporter, who had been dashing off hieroglyphics that meant a spicy paragraph the following day.  Summoning the young man, he said, as if the affair were of slight importance, “Since the girl has been proved innocent, and will have no further relation to the case, I would suggest that, out of deference to her friends and her own feelings, there be no mention of her name,” and the news-gatherer good-naturedly acceded to the request.