sure you is not nearly so terrible
a person as he might seem from behind that ominous iron bar."

Saton held out his hand, but almost immediately withdrawing it,
contented himself with a murmured word, and a somewhat low bow. For a
second the judge's eyebrows were upraised, his keen eyes seemed to
narrow. He made no movement to shake hands.

"I am very glad to meet Mr. Saton," he said slowly. "By the bye," he
continued, after a second's pause, "is this our first meeting? I seem
to have an idea--your face is somehow familiar to me."

There were few men who could have faced the piercing gaze of those
bright brown eyes, set deep in the withered face, without any sign of
embarrassment. Yet Saton smiled back pleasantly enough. He was
completely at his ease. His face showed only a reasonable amount of
pleasure at this encounter with the famous man.

"I am afraid, Lord Guerdon," he said, "that I cannot claim the
privilege of any previous acquaintance. Although I am an Englishman,
my own country has seen little of me during the last few years."

"Come and have some tea at once," Lady Mary insisted, looking up at
the judge. "I want to hear all about this wonderful Clancorry case.
Oh, I know you're not supposed to talk about it, but that really
doesn't matter down here. You shall have a comfortable chair by my
side, and some hot muffins."

Saton went back to his seat by the side of Lois Champneyes, carrying
his refilled teacup in his hand. She looked at him a little curiously.

"Tell me," she said, "have you really never met Lord Guerdon before?"

"Never in my life," he answered.

"Did he remind you of anyone?" she asked.

"It is curious that you should ask that," Saton remarked. "In a way he
did."

"I thought so," she declared, with a little breath of relief. "That
was it, of course. Do you know how you looked when you first heard
his name--when he came into the room?"

"I have no idea," he answered. "I only know that when I saw him enter,
it gave me almost a shock. He reminded me most strangely of a man who
has been dead for many years. I could scarcely take my eyes off him at
first."

"I will tell you," she said, "what your look reminded me of. Many
years before I was out--in my mother's time--there was a man named
Mallory who was tried for murder, the murder of a friend, who everyone
knew was his rival. Well, he got off, but only after a long trial, and
only by a little weakness in the chain of evidence, which