"Yes," he said as cheerfully as he could, in answer to Lucia's glance.
"I have been in Cacouna for some hours to-day and I shall be there again
to-morrow. I own, Lucia, I have not unlimited faith in circumstantial
evidence."

Lucia started, and her heart seemed to give a great leap--could he mean
that the prisoner was innocent? A week ago she would have said that the
burden of disgrace lay upon them too heavily to be much increased by
anything that could happen, and now she knew by the wild throb of hope
how its weight had been doubled and trebled since the shadow of murder
had been hanging over them. But the hope died out at once, for there was
nothing in her mind to feed it, and she had sunk back into her enforced
quiet before she answered,

"Will you tell me what the evidence is, if you have heard at all
exactly, and what you have seen to-day?"

There was nothing of girlish excitement or agitation in her words or
tone. Mr. Strafford wondered a little, but at once did as she asked.

"The evidence appears to be very simple and straightforward. From the
way in which the crime was committed and the body found, there is no
reason to suppose that it had been planned beforehand. The mode in which
death was inflicted showed, on the other hand, that it was not the
result of a hasty or chance blow--but really a murder, though
unpremeditated. Quite near to the place where the body lay, a man was
found hidden among the bushes. His hands and clothes were marked with
blood; he had by him a hatchet which had all the appearance of having
been used to inflict the wounds on the murdered man, and a heavy stick