"If that innocent-looking girl be a murderess," he exclaimed at length, "I shall never put faith in human appearances again. But, until she be proved guilty, I will not desert her."
"Do you know," said Ellen, "that I do not like your Mr. Tracy at all! Not that I suppose him capable of falsely accusing any one of so heinous a crime as murder; but—I do not like him."
"A female caprice, Ellen," observed Richard. "The world in general adores him."
"Ah! those who stand upon the highest pinnacles often experience the most signal falls," said Ellen.
"The breath of calumny has never tainted his fair fame," cried Richard.
"Alas! we have so many—many instances of profound ecclesiastical hypocrisy," persisted Miss Monroe.
"Ellen, you wrong an excellent man," said Markham, somewhat severely. "I will call upon him to-morrow morning, and learn from his own lips the particulars of this most mysterious deed."
CHAPTER CLIV.
REFLECTIONS.—THE NEW PRISON.
Richard Markham passed an uneasy night.
His thoughts wandered from topic to topic until the variety seemed infinite.