of the prisoner. Morris smiled at him, and nodded.

"Mr. Taynton told me to say that," he said, "I had once been in Mr.
Taynton's service. He dismissed me. I--"

The judge interposed looking at the cross-examining counsel.

"Do you press your question?" he asked. "I do not forbid you to ask it,
but I ask you whether the case for the prosecution of the--the prisoner
is furthered by your insisting on this question. We have all heard, the
jury and I alike, what the last three or four witnesses have said, and
you have allowed that--quite properly, in my opinion--to go
unchallenged. I do not myself see that there is anything to be gained by
the prosecution by pressing the question. I ask you to consider this
point. If you think conscientiously, that the evidence, the trend of
which we all know now, is to be shaken, you are right to do your best to
try to shake it. If not, I wish you to consider whether you should press
the question. What the result of your pressing it will be, I have no
idea, but it is certainly clear to us all now, that there was a threat
implied in Mr. Taynton's words. Personally I do not wish to know what
that threat was, nor do I see how the knowledge of it would affect your
case in my eyes, or in the eyes of the jury."

There was a moment's pause.

"No, my lord, I do not press it."

Then a clear young voice broke the silence.

"Thanks, Martin," it said.

It came from the dock.

The judge looked across to the dock for a moment, with a sudden
irresistible impulse of kindliness for the prisoner whom he was judging.

"Charles Martin," he said, "you have given your evidence, and speaking
for myself, I believe it to be entirely trustworthy. I wish to say that
your character is perfectly clear. No aspersion whatever has been made on
it, except that you said a note had been delivered at the door, though
you knew it to have been not so delivered. You made that statement
through fear of a certain individual; you were frightened into telling a
lie. No one inquires into the sources of your fear."

But in the general stillness, there was one part of the court that was
not still, but the judge made no command of silence there, for in the
jury-box there was whispering and consultation. It went on for some
three minutes. Then the foreman of the jury stood up.

"The jury have heard sufficient of this case, my lord," he said, "and
they are agreed on their verdict."

* * * * *