st possible light. But as matters proceeded, the
judge appeared to have arrived at a conclusion, and to regard the
prisoner as guilty.

He renewed his determination, too, to maintain his attitude of rigid
silence. Had he been free to act, he felt he could have destroyed the
effect of the evidence which was given, but he could not have done so
without throwing suspicion upon someone else. If he were not guilty,
then someone else was. Who was that someone?

For a long time therefore he did not seek to interpose, and witness
after witness left the box without any attempt on his part to
cross-examine them.

Only once did he really interpose in the proceedings, and that was
after a short cross-examination by the judge himself. Whether it was a
mere matter of form or not, the judge had asked each witness a number
of questions on the evidence which had been given, and as Paul listened
to those questions, they seemed utterly unsatisfactory to him. He
remembered Judge Bolitho's career, remembered, too, that when he was
practising at the Bar, he was said to be one of the most severe
cross-examiners on the Northern Circuit. But now his queries seemed to
be trivial and unworthy. The questions he asked might have been those
of a newly-fledged barrister, who had not learnt the ABC of his
profession!

This, as it seemed to him, was especially noticeable when he questioned
Mr. Edward Wilson, the father of the murdered man. Mr. Wilson's
evidence, of course, created a great sensation. He stated that, as far
as he knew, his son did not possess a single enemy in the world except
the prisoner in the dock. He also went on to say that almost ever
since Paul had come to Brunford he had been the sworn enemy of his son.
He spoke of the prisoner as clever, ambitious, unscrupulous, a man who
would adopt any means to accomplish his own purposes. He stated that
his son, although a brave, strong man, had told him, his father, that
he feared what the prisoner might do to him. He denied that his son
had sought to ruin Paul Stepaside, although he admitted that the
prisoner might have had reasons for believing that his son would not be
sorry if he could be driven out of the town. And he related certain
incidents which went to prove that Paul hated his son Ned with deadly
hatred.

No one could help feeling when the counsel sat down after examining Mr.
Edward Wilson that the case looked blacker than ever against Paul. He
had supplied