prosecution proceeded.

  "Where did you last see it?"

  "Stained with blood, sir; it was found beneath the dead man's body."

  On being questioned, Sandie also repeated his evidence as given at thecoroner's inquest, and presently was allowed to stand down.

  Then the prisoner was hissed by the people. The judge lost his temper.He had not quite got over Sandie's allusion to his nose.

  "If," he cried, "there is the slightest approach to a repetition of thatunseemly noise, I will instantly clear the court?"

  The doctor who had examined the body was examined.

  "Might not the farmer have committed suicide?" he was asked.

  "Everything is against that theory," the doctor replied, "for the knifebelonged to Grahame; besides, the deed was done on the road, and fromthe appearance of the deceased's coat, he had evidently been hauledthrough the gateway on his back, bleeding all the while, and so hiddenunder the darkling spruce pine."

  "So that _felo de se_ is quite out of the question?"

  "Utterly so, my lord."

  "Stand down, doctor."

  I am giving the evidence only in the briefest epitome, for it occupiedhours. The advocate for the prosecution made a telling speech, to whichthe prisoner's solicitor replied in one quite as good. He spoke almostironically, and laughed as he did so, especially when he came to theevidence of the knife. His client at the time of the murder was lyingsound asleep at a hedge-foot. What could hinder a tramp, one of themany who swarm on the Deeside road, to have stolen the knife, followedCraig Nicol, stabbed him, robbed and hidden the body, and left the knifethere to turn suspicion on the sleeping man? "Is it likely," he added,"that Reginald--had he indeed murdered his quondam friend--would havebeen so great a fool as to have left the knife there?" He ended bysaying that there was not a jot of trustworthy evidence on which thejury could bring in a verdict of guilty.

  But, alas! for Reginald. The judge in his summing up--and a long andeloquent speech it was--destroyed all the good effects of thesolicitor's speech. "He could not help," he said, "pointing out to thejury that guilt or suspicion could rest on no one else save Grahame. Astestified by a witness, he had quarrelled with Nicol, and had made useof the remarkable expression that `the quarrel would end in blood.' Thenight of the murder Grahame was not sober, but lying where he was, inthe shade of the hedge, Nicol must have passed him without seeing him,and then no doubt Grahame had followed and done that awful deed which incool blood he might not even have thought about Again, Grahame was poor,and was engaged to be married. The gold and notes would be an incentiveundoubtedly to the crime, and when he sailed away in the _Wolverine_ hewas undoubtedly a fugitive from justice, and in his opinion the jury hadbut one course. They might now retire."

  They were about to rise, and his lordship was about to withdraw, when aloud voice exclaimed:

  "Hold! I desire to give evidence."

  A tall, bold-looking seafarer stepped up, and was sworn.

  "I have but this moment returned from a cruise around Africa," he said."I am bo's'n's mate in H.M.S. _Hurricane_. We have been out for threeyears. But, my lord, I have some of the notes here that the Bank ofScotland can prove were paid to Craig Nicol, and on the very day afterthe murder must have taken place I received these notes, for valuegiven, from the hands of Sandie yonder, usually called Shufflin' Sandie.I knew nothing about the murder then, nor until the ship was paid off;but being hurried away, I had no time to cash the paper, and here arethree of them now, my lord." They were handed to the jury. "They weresmeared with blood when I got them. Sandie laughed when I pointed thisout to him. He said that he had cut his finger, but that the bloodwould bring me luck." (Great sensation in court.)

  Sandie was at once recalled to the witness-box. His knees trembled sothat he had to be supported. His voice shook, and his face was pale toghastliness.

  "Where did you obtain those notes?" said the judge sternly.

  For a moment emotion choked the wretch's utterance. But he found wordsat last.

  "Oh, my lord my lord, I alone am the murderer! I killed one man--CraigNicol--I cannot let another die for my crime! I wanted money, my lord,to help to pay for my new house, and set me up in life, and I dodgedNicol for miles. I found Mr Grahame asleep under a hedge, and I stolethe stocking knife and left it near the man I had murdered. When Ireturned to the sleeping man, I had with me--oh, awful!--some of theblood of my victim that I had caught in a tiny bottle as it flowed fromhis side,"--murmurs of horror--"and with this I smeared Grahame'shands."

  Here Sandie collapsed in a dead faint, and was borne from the court.

  "Gentlemen of the jury," said the judge, "this evidence and confessionputs an entirely new complexion on this terrible case. The man who hasjust fainted is undoubtedly the murderer." The jury agreed. "Thepresent prisoner is discharged, but must appear to-morrow, when thewretched dwarf shall take his place in the dock."

  And so it was. Even the bloodstained clothes that Sandie had worn onthe night of the murder had been found. The jury returned a verdict ofguilty against him without even leaving the box. The judge assumed theblack cap, and amidst a silence that could be felt, condemned him todeath.

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  Reginald Grahame was a free man, and once more happy. The court evenapologised to him, and wished him all the future joys that life couldgive.

  But the wretched culprit forestalled justice, and managed to stranglehimself in his cell. And thus the awful tragedy ended.

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  "I knew it, I knew it!" cried Annie, as a morning or two after hisexculpation Reginald presented himself at McLeod Cottage. And thewelcome he received left nothing to be desired.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

  THE LAST CRUISE TO THE ISLAND OF FLOWERS.

  In quite a ship-shape form was poor Reginald's release from prison, andfrom the very jaws of death. Met at the door by his friends and oldshipmates. Dickson was there, with his four brave sailors, and many wasthe fellow-student who stretched out his hands to shake Reginald's, aspale and weakly he came down the steps. Then the students formedthemselves into procession--many who read these lines may remember it--and, headed by a brass band, marched with Dickson and the sailors, whobore Reginald aloft in an armchair, marched to the other end of UnionStreet, then back as far as a large hotel. Here, after many a ringingcheer, they dismissed themselves. But many returned at eventide andpartook of a sumptuous banquet in honour of Reginald, and this feast waspaid for by Dickson himself. The common sailors were there also, andnot a few strange tales they had to tell, their memories being refreshedby generous wine.

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  And now our story takes a leap of many months, and we find the _HighlandMary_, a most beautiful yacht, somewhat of the _Wolverine_ type, far,far at sea, considerable to nor'ard of the Line, however, but boundingon under a spread of whitest canvas, over just such a sea as the sailorloves. No big waves here, but wavelets of the darkest steel-blue, andeach one wrinkled and dimpled with the warm, delightful breeze, kissedby the sunlight, and reflecting the glory in millions of broken rays, asif the sea were besprinkled with precious stones and diamonds of purestray serene.

  Let us take a look on deck. We cannot but be struck with the neatnessand brightness of everything our eyes fall upon. The fires are out.There is no roaring steam, no clouds of dark, dense smoke, no grind andgrind of machinery, and no fall of black and sooty hailstones from thefunnel. Ill indeed would this have accorded with the ivory whiteness ofthe quarter-deck, with the snow-white table linen, which one can catch aglimpse of down through the open skylight. But worst of all would itaccord with the dainty dresses of the ladies, or the snowy sailor garbof the officers. The ladies are but two in reality, Annie herself--nowMrs Reginald Grahame--and daft, pretty wee Matty. But there is Annie'smaid, Jean
nie Lee, looking as modest and sweet as she ever did. Annieis seated in a cushioned chair, and, just as of old, Matty is onReginald's knee. If Annie is not jealous of her, she certainly is notjealous of Annie. In her simple, guileless young heart, she believesthat she comes first in Reginald's affections, and that Annie has merelysecond place.

  I daresay it is the bracing breeze and the sunshine that makes Mattyfeel so happy and merry to-day. Well, sad indeed would be the heartthat rejoiced not on such a day as this! Why, to breathe is joy itself;the air seems to fill one with exhilaration, like gladsome, sparklingwine.

  Here is Captain Dickson. He never did look jollier, with his rosy,laughing face, his gilt-bound cap and his jacket of blue, than he doesnow. He is half-sitting, half-standing on the edge of the skylight,