Black Donald, through the whole ordeal, deported himself with a
gallant and joyous dignity, that would have better become a triumph
than a trial.
He was indicted upon several distinct counts, the most serious of
which--the murder of the solitary widow and her daughter in the
forest cabin, and the assassination of Eugene Le Noir in the woods
near the Hidden House--were sustained only by circumstantial
evidence. But the aggregate weight of all these, together with his
very bad reputation, was sufficient to convict him, and Black Donald
was sentenced to death.
This dreadful doom, most solemnly pronounced by the judge was
received by the prisoner with a loud laugh, and the words:
"You're out o' your reckoning now, cap'n! I never was a saint, the
Lord knows, but my hands are free from blood guiltiness! There's an
honest little girl that believes me--don't you?" he said, turning
laughingly to our little heroine.
"Yes, I do!" said Cap, bursting into tears; "and I am sorry for you
as ever I can be, Donald Bayne."
"Bother! It was sure to come to this first or last, and I knew it!
Now, to prove you do not think this rugged hand of mine stained with
blood, give it a friendly shake!" said the condemned man. And before
Old Hurricane could prevent her, Capitola had jumped over two or
three intervening seats and climbed up to the side of the dock, and
reached up her hand to the prisoner, saying:
"God help you, Donald Bayne, in your great trouble, and I will do
all I can to help you in this world.
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