to have a
thing underdone than overdone, because if it's not cooked enough you
can always do it more, but if it's cooked too much you can't do it
less. D'you hear?'

The waiter bowed low and retired, deeply impressed with the profound
wisdom displayed in these observations.

'You know, if that man who's defending her--what's his name:
Tressamer?--thinks he's going to get her off by attacking Lewis, he
makes a mistake. I shall go for him if he tries it on.'

'Most improper--most improper,' assented Sir John. 'I don't know what
the Bar's coming to, I don't indeed! These young men are throwing over
all the old traditions. The judges will really have to do something.'

'You see, Lewis has acted a perfectly natural and straightforward
part. He was bound to do what he did.'

'What sort of a girl is she? because that will make a good deal of
difference with the jury.'

'I don't quite agree with you,' answered Sir Daniel. 'My experience is
that in a case of this kind the jury are sobered by their sense of
responsibility too much to be influenced by a thing like that. It's
the outside public afterwards who get up petitions and kick up a row
in the press about a pretty woman.'

'Then she is pretty?' said the other.

'You old sinner!' retorted Sir Daniel playfully. 'It's well for the
interests of justice that you're not on the jury. Yes, begad! Wiseman,
she's one of the loveliest creatures I've ever tried. Waiter! Where
are those tomatoes?'

The tomatoes were brought in and hurriedly partaken of, as the time
was running out.

'I suppose you'll sum up for a conviction, then?' questioned the other
judge, as he rose and put on his wig.

'No, I shan't,' said Sir Daniel, helping his brother on with the
purple-coloured garment which is worn in presiding over the civil
court. 'I shall just leave it to the jury. I don't feel a bit
satisfied, and I'm very glad, for once in my life, that I have got a
jury to take the decision off my shoulders.'

And with these words he drew his own scarlet gown around him and,
grasping a small square piece of silk in his left hand, strode back to
his seat in court.

At his entrance the whole assemblage rose, including the prisoner, who
had been brought back a minute before. Then a start of horror ran
through them, and Eleanor's calmness for a moment gave way in a faint
gasp. For the object which the judge had just laid on the desk beside
him was--the Black Cap.

CHAPTER VIII.

TH