In this land of justice there is nothing more incomprehensible than the extraordinary weight and power of merely circumstantial evidence. Never was there a more honest young fellow than Will Scarlett. From his babyhood he had lived by the golden rule which does to others as we would be done by; he had never given false measure, nor false words, nor had he been guilty of false deeds; in the true sense of the word, he was a Christian,—very bright, and gay, and jolly, and a prime favorite both with his captain and mates whenever he sailed abroad.

Nevertheless, this young man who bore so excellent a character was brought up before the magistrates on the morning of his wedding-day, charged with having stolen two Bank of England notes. As Will was being hurried to the police station, he felt quite certain that five minutes' conversation would set the whole matter straight; and he even wondered if Mr. Phillips could be got to return to the church later in the day to marry him to Bet. Bet's white, despairing face haunted him; and he tried to shut it away from his thoughts, and to dwell on the delightful anticipation of soon setting all her fears to rest.

But when Will appeared before the magistrates, matters did not go quite so easily as he had imagined. In the first place, he was not allowed to tell his own story; and in the next, the sealskin purse which was found on his person was in the most remarkable way brought to bear witness against him. For a young lady and her father appeared in the witness-box who both identified the purse as hers; and this young lady with the beautiful brown eyes looked very sorrowfully at Will, but also said with great clearness that it was in that purse certainly that the recovered notes had been placed by her, and it was most undoubtedly out of that purse that twenty-six pounds in notes and gold had been stolen.

Will's anxious face cleared a little when Higgins appeared; but to his amazement Higgins seemed to be altogether on the other side—spoke of Will's eagerness and of Bet's trepidation, and how they both seemed in a great hurry and anxious to be rid of the notes at any price, and how loth Will was to write his name and address on the back. In short, everything seemed to go quite against him: and the one longing the poor fellow had was for Dent to be found—for, of course, Dent could and would clear him.

Finally he was remanded for a week, until some tidings could be got of Dent; he spent that night in jail, with all hope of a speedy wedding-day vanishing into the dim distance. Whatever happened, he had lost his berth in the good ship which was to sail from the Mersey on the following Monday;—whatever happened, too, was not his character more or less stained from this contamination with the prison?

When Bet recovered from her faint, she went straight home, but Hester hastened to the police-court, to learn Will's fate. He saw her as he stood in the prisoner's dock; and all that eyes could convey of sympathy, and belief, and longing to help, she gave him. When the magistrates uttered their judgment, and it was decided Will should spend the next week in the lock-up, Hester did push near enough to him to say—

"I'll take care of that lass of yours, cousin; and she and me, we won't leave a stone unturned to find the man what 'as wronged you."

Then Hester hastened off to Paradise Row, where she had first a long interview with Mother Bunch, and then found her way upstairs to Bet's room. Bet was seated on the side of her bed; her hair looked rough and untidy; her poor dress was no longer orderly; there was a flush of defiance on her cheeks, and a hard gleam in her eyes.

"Well, ha' they done for him?" she said. "I never believed much in goodness, and this day—well, this day's work ha' finished me. Don't talk to me of justice, nor mercy neither. What ha? they done with Will, Hetty? He's the only honest lad I ever came across,—and there—he's took up for thieving! Oh, don't ever talk to me about there being real goodness in the world."

"You talk silly," said Hester. "It's badness has ruined Will Scarlett. The bad heart of a real wicked man has spoiled the honest lad. Don't talk about what you know nought on, Bet, but think how we can serve him. He's locked up for a week, so that Dent may be found and brought to confess. You and me has a power to do in a week, and we have no time to talk silly words, what have neither sense nor meaning in 'em."

Bet's face changed while Hester was speaking. The defiant, almost repellant, look left it: it did not regain any of that strange softness which transfigured it when in Will's presence; but it was no longer hopeless; the idea of work to be done had driven away the cruel demon of despair.

"Oh, Hetty," said Bet, running up to Hester, and dragging her down to sit beside her on the pallet bed. "I'm glad as there's summut to be done. Mother allus said I was a hard 'un, and that the Almighty hadn't no love for such as me. And I did feel hard arter Will were took away—for I never had no real happiness, Hester, until arter Will and I promised to wed each other—and I thought it must be true about the Almighty hating such as me when He took Will from me at the very church door. But I don't mind anything now, Hetty, if there's ought as I can serve the lad with. I'm despert—I'm despert, as far as I think of myself, but there's nought—nought—as I wouldn't do to serve Will. I'd break a promise—I'd break a promise made to the dying,—me, who never broke my word!—ef it would serve the lad I loves. There, Hetty—no one can go further than that,—no one can speak more solemn and meaningful."

"Poor Bet!" said Hester. "Your heart's wrung, my dear—your words are wild, but their meaning's true enough. Will 'ull get a good wife in you, Bet, and you'll forget an evil day like this by-and-bye. But now," she added, "we has got to plan and to contrive, and the main thing is to find that villain Dent. I were at the police-court all day, and I heard every word, and it seemed to me them men could twist anything, and turn black into white, and t'other way, just as it pleased them. And they did say things agin' Will as most took my own breath from me; and all the time the lad stood there, with his face as honest as the sky, only a bit puzzled like. But it seemed to me, and that's what I come to you for, Bet, that the only chance for our poor Will is to find that villain Dent, and get the truth out of him some way. You said, Bet, that Dent hadn't sailed in Will's ship—oh, it's plain to be seen as he give the lad the money just to get him into this trouble. And Will, he's like a baby, for thinking innocent of all the world. Well, well, I mustn't dwell on it, for my own heart burns; but ef you know where Dent is hiding, Bet, you might get news of him, and bring me word as quick as may be."

"I don't know where he hides," said Bet, "b............