It was a glorious morning in June.  All nature seemed exulting in the young summer’s splendor.

And any stranger arriving at the town of Wendover that day would have supposed that the population of the whole surrounding country were taking advantage of the delightful weather to hold a gay festival there.

The whole town was full of visitors, come to the great trial.

Mr. Hezekiah Greenfield, of the Reindeer Hotel, was beside himself under the unusual press of business, and his waiters and hostlers were nearly crazy amid the confusion of arrivals and the conflicting claims made all at once upon their attention and services.

The scene around the court-house was even more tumultuous.

The court-house was a plain, oblong, two-story edifice, built of the red stone that abounded in the mountain quarries of that district.  It stood in a large yard shaded with many trees and surrounded by a high stone wall.

In the rear end of this yard stood the county prison.

The court-yard was filled with curious people, who were pressing toward the doors of the court-house, trying to effect an entrance into the building, which was already crammed to suffocation.

In the minister’s cottage parlor, at the same early hour, were assembled the Rev. Mr. Lyle, honest John Lytton and his shock-headed son, Charley, Joseph Brent, Alden Lytton, and his counsel, Messrs. Berners and Denham.

John Lytton had arrived only that morning.  And on meeting his nephew had taken him by both hands, exclaiming: 

“You know, Aldy, my boy, as I told you before, I don’t believe the first word of all this.  ’Cause it’s impossible, you know, for any man of our race to do anything unbecoming of a Lytton and a gentleman.  And I think a man’s family ought to stand by him in a case like this.  So I not only came myself, but I fotch Charley, and if I had had another son I would a-fotched him too.  I don’t know but I’d a fotched your aunt Kitty and the girls, only, as I said to them, a trial of this sort a’n’t no proper place for ladies.  What do you think yourself?”

“I quite agree with you, Uncle John.  And I feel really very deeply touched by the proof of confidence and affection you give me in coming here yourself,” said Alden, earnestly, pressing and shaking the honest hands that held his own.

And at that moment Mr. Lyle placed in Mr. Alden Lytton’s hands a little note from Emma, saying: 

“She gave it to me yesterday, with the request that I would hand it to you to-day.”

Alden unfolded and read it.

It was only a brief note assuring him of her unwavering faith in Heaven and in himself, and her perfect confidence, notwithstanding the present dark aspect of affairs, in his speedy and honorable acquittal.

He pressed this little note to his lips and placed it near his heart.

And then Mr. Lyle told him that it wanted but a quarter to ten, the carriages were at the door, and it was time to start for the court-house.

Mr. Lytton nodded assent, and they all went out.

There were two carriages before the cottage gates.

Into the first went the Rev. Mr. Lyle, Mr. Alden Lytton, and his counsel, Messrs. Berners and Denham.

Into the second went Mr. John Lytton, his son Charley, and Mr. Joseph
Brent.

The court-house was situated at the opposite end of the town from the parsonage, and was about a mile distant.  The gentlemen of this party might easily have walked the distance, but preferred to ride, in order to avoid the curious gaze of strangers who had flocked into the town.

A rapid drive of twenty minutes’ duration brought them to the court-house.

The Rev. Mr. Lyle alighted first, and called a constable to clear the way for the party to pass into the court-room.

The accused, Alden Lytton, was accommodated with a chair in front of the bench, and near him sat his relatives, John and Charles Lytton, his friends Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent, and his counsel, Messrs. Berners and Denham.

Judge Burlington sat upon the bench to try the case.

After the tedious preliminaries were over the accused was arraigned with the usual formula, and-not without some natural scorn and indignation, for he was still too youthful to have learned much self-control-answered: 

“Not guilty, of course!”

As if he would have added, “You know that quite as well as I myself and everybody else does.”