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Chapter 94

           Ileavethattomybraverescuer,ZebStump;who,Ihope,willsoonreturntogiveanaccountofit—withmuchbesidesthatisyetmysterioustome,astoyourselves.

           "AllIcanremembersincethenisaseriesofincongruousdreams—painfulphantasmagoria—mingledwithpleasantvisions—ah!somethatwerecelestial—untilthedaybeforeyesterday,whenIawoketofindmyselftheinmateofaprison—withachargeofmurderhangingovermyhead!

           "Gentlemenofthejury!Ihavedone."

           ***

           "Sinonveroebentrovato,"isthereflectionofjudge,jury,andspectators,astheprisonercompleteshisrecital.

           Theymaynotexpressitinsuchwell-turnedphrase;buttheyfeelit—oneandallofthem.

           Andnotafewbelieveinthetruth,andrejectthethoughtofcontrivance.Thetaleistoosimple—toocircumstantial—tohavebeencontrived,andbyamanwhosebrainisbutjustrecoveredfromtheconfusionoffeveredfancies.

           Itisaltogetherimprobableheshouldhaveconcoctedsuchastory.Sothinkthemajorityofthosetowhomithasbeentold.

           Hisconfession—irregularasitmayhavebeen—hasdonemoreforhisdefencethanthemosteloquentspeechhiscounselcouldhavedelivered.

           Stillitisbuthisowntale;andothertestimonywillberequiredtoclearhim.

           Whereisthewitnessuponwhomsomuchissupposedtodepend.WhereisZebStump?

           Fivehundredpairsofeyesturntowardstheprairie,andscanthehorizonwithinquiringgaze.

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