e some mistake."

"Of course there must," said Horace, with a touch of scorn in his voice,
"but how are we to prove it?"

"It's no use trying just now. All we can do is to get a remand."

The train seemed to drag forward with cruel slowness, and the precious
moments sped by with no less cruel haste. It was five minutes past
three when they found themselves on the platform of Liverpool station.

"It's touch and go if we're in time, old boy," said Harker, as they took
their seats in a hansom and ordered the man to drive hard for the
police-court; "but you mustn't give up hope even if we're late. We'll
pull poor old Reg through somehow."

His cheery words and the brotherly grip on his arm were like life and
hope to Horace.

"Oh, yes," he replied. "What would I have done if you hadn't turned up
like an angel of help, Harker, old man?"

As they neared the police-court the cabman pulled up to allow a police
van to turn in the road. The two friends shuddered. It was like an
evil omen to daunt them.

Was _he_ in that van--so near them, yet so hopelessly beyond their
reach?

"For goodness' sake drive on!" shouted Harker to the cabman.

It seemed ages before the lumbering obstruction had completed its
revolution and drawn to one side sufficiently to allow them to pass.

In another minute the cab dashed to the door of the court.

It was open, and the knot of idlers on the pavement showed them that
some case of interest was at that moment going on.

They made their way to the policeman who stood on duty.

"Court's full--stand back, please. Can't go in," said that official.

"What case is it?"

"Stand back, please--can't go in," repeated the stolid functionary.

"Please tell us--"

"Stand back there!" once more shouted the sentinel, growing rather more
peremptory.

It was clearly no use mincing matters. At this very moment Reginald
might be standing defenceless within, with his last chance of liberty
slipping from under his feet.

Harker drew a shilling from his pocket and slipped it into the hand of
the law.

"Tell us the name of the case, there's a good fellow," said he
coaxingly.

"Bilcher--wife murder. Stand back, please--court's full."

Bilcher! Wife murder! It was for this the crowd had gathered, it was
for the result of this that that knot of idlers were waiting so
patiently outside.

Bilcher was the hero of this day's gathering. Who was likely to care a
rush about such a lesser lig