"What means the fool?" contemptuously exclaimed Mark. "Does he suppose that reasoning men will credit his ravings, or help him to shift his load of crime upon another's shoulders?"
"As I am a living man—as there is a just God who knows the secrets of all hearts, there stands the murderer, Mark Dermot!" solemnly replied Luke. "It is not for myself I care, for Heaven knows that I would rather die than bear about this load of misery; but that he should brave the angels with a shameless brow, he whose hands are crimsoned with her precious blood—it is too much!—too much!"
"Then, Luke Bryant," said the coroner, "you deny having committed this crime?"
"On my knees—before the throne of mercy—I do!"
"I trust, then, that you may cause a jury of your countrymen to believe so; but for me, I have only one duty to perform, and circumstances clearly bear me out in my assumption. I must send you to trial!"
At this juncture, one of the jurymen, who thought he could perceive a meaning in Mark's peculiar, ill-concealed glance of savage delight, begged to be heard: keeping his eye steadily fixed on Mark's face, he said, with solemnity:
"When the judgment of man is in perplexity as to the author of crimes like these, the aid of Heaven may well be solicited, that it might be mercifully pleased to give some indication by which the innocent might be prevented from suffering for the guilty. We have an old tradition here, that if the accused lays his right hand upon the breast of the corpse, swearing upon the Holy Gospel that he had no act or part in the deed, speaking truly, no results will follow; but if he swears falsely, the dead itself will testify against him; for the closed wounds will re-open their bloody mouths, and to the confusion of the guilty one, the stream of life will flow once more for a short space! It seems to me that this is a case in which The Test of Blood might be applied not vainly."
"Willingly!—most willingly will I abide the test," exclaimed Luke.
"And you?" said the juror, with a penetrating glance at Mark.
"I!" said the latter, with an attempt at recklessness, "What is it to me?—why should I be subject to such mummery—who accuses me?"