jury had been detained some time longer, they were discharged, and the prisoner escaped.
The reader has not, perhaps, guessed that the twelfth juryman was the real murderer of the man in the field. Such was the fact. After the fight between the two men, he had come along, and, having a grudge against the one who remained, he caught up the pitchfork and assailed him. On dealing him the fatal blow, he fled. No one had happened to see him. When the innocent man was arrested, the real criminal, who had, it would seem, some remnant of human feeling in his heart, resolved to save himself and the prisoner also. By some hook or crook he succeeded in getting upon the jury, with what result has been told.
Instances of reparation by an aroused conscience are not rare in the annals of human delinquency. Every now and then the Secretary of the Treasury at Washington receives anonymous packages of money, which has come to be called "conscience money;" and we not seldom hear of cases of confession by men who have injured others in purse or reputation. So, too, where the innocent have been punished by fabricated evidence, the real enigma is sometimes solved by the avowals of the guilty; nor are these avowals always reserved to be elicited by the terrors of the death-bed. It has been frequently remarked, that sometimes truth is so strange that the most daring writers of fiction would not venture to present it to their readers, even as a creation of the fancy. Of such a character was an instance of fabricated evidence which occurred about thirty years ago at Gibraltar.
There lived in London a merchant named James Baxwell. He was prosperous in affairs, and was looked upon in the "city" as a shrewd and an industrious trader, with unblemished reputation and conspicuous business talents. Being a very ardent Roman Catholic, however, James Baxwell made up his mind that he would rather live in a country where that faith predominated, and where he might still pursue his avocations. With this view he took up his residence at Gibraltar. There he continued to thrive, and in due time became very wealthy.
Baxwell had an only daughter, who grew up to be the most beautiful girl in the town. The youths of Gibraltar were infatuated with her, followed her in the street, gazed admiringly at her when she was at her devotions in church, and sought by every means to attract her attention. But she was demure and timid, and no thought of love ever seemed to enter her head. At last, however, the man and the hour came. One day, when she was attending Mass, she saw a youth so comely and noble that she yielded up her heart at sight. He could not fail to be as much struck with her beauty as was every one else. He sought and obtained her acquaintance; and soon the young couple learned to communicate each other's passion. The successful lover turned out to be a young Englishman named William Katt; poor, and perhaps of not too sound a reputation, but, at least to the fair Elezia, romantic and devoted. Katt lost no time in asking Baxwell for his daughter's hand; but Baxwell at once declared his invincible opposition to the match. Katt should never have his daughter, he said. The young man was a Protestant, and Elezia should never wed a heretic. Elezia pleaded tearfully with her father, but all in vain. Then the demure beauty became furious, and declared that her father should not prevent her marrying whom she chose.
The lovers still contrived to see each other; but finally Baxwell shut his daughter up and kept her under lock and key. He was, it appears, a choleric and tyrannical person; and the fanaticism with which he clung to his religion added strength to his cruelty. Elezia pretended to submit, and was released from durance vile; that her submission was a subterfuge, strange events very soon proved. It must be stated that James Baxwell had declared, in presence of witnesses, that he would kill his daughter
