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I passed a night of unmingled wretchedness. In the morning I went

to the court; my lips and throat were parched. I dared not ask

the fatal question, but I was known, and the officer guessed the

cause of my visit. The ballots had been thrown; they were all

black, and Justine was condemned.

I cannot pretend to describe what I then felt. I had before

experienced sensations of horror, and I have endeavoured to

bestow upon them adequate expressions, but words cannot convey an

idea of the heart-sickening despair that I then endured. The

person to whom I addressed myself added that Justine had already

confessed her guilt. "That evidence," he observed, "was hardly

required in so glaring a case, but I am glad of it, and, indeed,

none of our judges like to condemn a criminal upon circumstantial

evidence, be it ever so decisive."