“I care not for my life; but of this crime, as I have always said, I am innocent, and would die a thousand deaths rather than suffer for it,” he answered. “And tell me, sir, who was that lawyer that appeared against me. I heard his name; it is one I once well knew.”
“He is a barrister of high talent, the eldest son of the murdered man.”
The prisoner, who was now in the condemned cell, lifted his manacled hands, exclaiming, involuntarily it seemed—
“My brother appear against me! God have mercy on him, for through him I have been unjustly condemned. As there is a God in heaven, whom I have so often blasphemed, I tell you again that I am guiltless of the crime for which I am condemned!”
Arthur was too much agitated to speak for a moment.
“You the brother of Hugh Maitland?” he exclaimed, “I am his brother. We had but one other brother, Gilbert, who lost his life when a mere lad; so we believed, and long mourned him as dead.”
“Arthur! Arthur!” exclaimed Gilbert, for he was indeed the prisoner. “I recognise your features, although I had not till now done so. Can you believe me guilty of our father’s death? I confess to countless crimes, but of that I am innocent.”
Arthur at length recovered himself. From several circumstances which Gilbert brought to his memory, he was thoroughly convinced that he was indeed his brother.
“I before hoped that you might escape death, and now that I am convinced that you are innocent, I must use every exertion to prevent the risk of the reprieve not reaching Winchester in time to stay your execution.”
Arthur hastened away in search of Hugh, who was on the point of starting for London. The calm, self-confident barrister sunk almost fainting into a chair when he heard Arthur’s account. He, however, soon recovered his self-possession.