Causes Centres. with indifference her dreadful suffering, coolly awaiting the time when the poison he had administered to her should do its fatal work. In commenting upon the test of blood, he did not seize the superstitious views of that circumstance. He contended that McKay himself did not believe in the test, but pro posed it for the purpose of inducing the peo ple to think him innocent, since he dared to invoke it so boldly. "Gentlemen," continued Mr. Collier, "it was not the blood of his victim that followed his murderous hand, revealing his guilt on the way; the sight of the corpse of his murdered wife touched his conscience. It was conscience, that sure and awful accuser, pursuing him with sleepless vigilance, that caused the cry of agony and remorse, the pallor and the tremor. His guilty secret was disturbed, and like a raging devil within him it compelled him by his actions and words to confess his guilt, even while attempting to deny it." After an able and lucid charge from the judge the case was given to the jurors, who, after several hours' absence, returned into court with a verdict of "guilty." As the words of the verdict fell from the lips of the foreman, McKay with a cry of agony fell fainting to the floor. He was with some difficulty restored to conscious ness, and remanded to jail until he gained sufficient strength and fortitude to undergo the awful sentence. He was brought into court the next morn ing. Collected and firm he took his seat in the prisoner's box. All evidence of the weak ness and terror that so suddenly overcame him on the announcement of the verdict had passed away-; but the lines around his mouth — the unmistakable figures in which mental suffering writes itself — were visible to all. But there was no forced and convulsed effort vainly masking the terror and the pang. He had brought himself to submit to his fate with a courageous but despairing heart.
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Mr. Collier moved that the sentence of the court be passed upon the prisoner. "Medad McKay," said Chief-Justice Spen cer, in that voice which once heard was never forgotten, " what have you to say why sen tence of death should not now be pronounced upon you?" To this question McKay replied : " I have nothing to say, except I am not guilty. I could say more, but it would do no good." During this scene Mr. Hurlbert was seated at a table on which the papers of the district attorney lay in a loose bundle, and his eye accidentally rested on the writ by which in those days the jurors were summoned. Carelessly taking up the paper, he glanced at the filing, and laid it on the table again. In this movement the writ became partly unfolded, revealing the caption on the inside. Rapidly running his eye over this, he discov ered that the seal of the court, which the law then required should be affixed to the docu ment, was missing. With nervous energy that attracted the attention of many within the bar, he seized the writ again. Hastily reading it over, with a strange, startling ex pression on his face, he sprang to his feet just as the judge commenced the death sen tence, and the voice of John W. Hurlbert fell upon the almost breathless audience like a clap of thunder at noon-tide, exclaiming, — "Stop, your honor! for heaven's sake, stop! I desire to be heard before your honor proceeds!" The Chief-Justice paused. His heavy brow darkened. With a look of surprise and indig nation he said, "What is the meaning of this interruption, sir? Do you, Mr. Hurlbert, do you intend to trifle with this court, and at this time? I am astonished, sir!" "I never trifle with any court, sir, — never, never. I hold your honor in too high esteem to oppose here a factious word or objection; but a matter has this moment come to my knowledge to which it is my duty to call the attention of the court, and I beg your honor to hear me. The issue of life or death hangs on what I desire to say."
