An article appeared headed, “Our Savages.”  It related with righteous indignation how Mr. Bartley’s miners had burned the dead body of a miner suspected of having fired the mine, and put his own life in jeopardy as well as those of others; and then, not content with that monstrous act, had fallen upon and beaten to death a gentleman in whom they thought they detected a resemblance to some person who had been, or was suspected of being that miner’s accomplice; “but so far from that,” said the writer, “we are now informed, on sure authority, that the gentleman in question is a large and wealthy landed proprietor, quite beyond any temptation to crime or dishonesty, and had actually visited this part of the world only in the character of a peace-maker, and to discharge a very delicate commission, which it would not be our business to publish even if the details had been confided to us.”

The article concluded with a hope that these monsters “would be taught that even if they were below the standard of humanity they were not above the law.”

Middleton attended the summonses, gave his name and address, and informed the magistrate that his client was a large landed proprietor, and it looked like a case of mistaken identity.  His client was actually dying of his injuries, but his wife hoped for justice.

But the detectives had taken care to be present, and so they put in their word.  They said that they were prepared to prove, at a proper time, that the wounded man was really the person who had been heard by Mrs. Walter Clifford to bribe Ben Burnley to fire the mine.

“We have nothing to do with that now,” said the magistrate.  “One thing at a time, please.  I can not let these people murder a convicted felon, far less a suspected criminal that has not been tried.  The wounded man proceeds, according to law, through a respectable attorney.  These men, whom you are virtually defending, have taken the law into their own hands.  Are your witnesses here, Mr. Middleton?”

“Not at present, sir; and when I was interrupted, I was about to ask your worship to grant me an adjournment for that purpose.  It will not be a great hardship to the accused, since we proceed by summons.  I fear I have been too lenient, for two or three of them have absconded since the summons was served.”

“I am not surprised at that,” said the magistrate; “however, you know your own business.”

Then the police applied for a warrant of arrest against Monckton.

“Oh!” cried Middleton, with the air of a man thoroughly shocked and scandalized.

“Certainly not,” said the magistrate; “I shall not disturb the course of justice; there is not even an exparte case against this gentleman at present.  Such an application must be supported by a witness, and a disinterested one.”  So all the parties retired crest-fallen except Mr. Middleton; as for him, he was imitating a small but ingenious specimen of nature—­the cuttle-fish.  This little creature, when pursued by its enemies, discharges an inky fluid which obscures the water all around, and then it starts off and escapes.