ed to tell
his missis, and his missis told it to somebody else, who told it to one
of the policemen, and that's 'ow it came about."

In another part of the court, not far from the barristers' seats, two
ladies discussed Paul. They, too, had been brought there by morbid
curiosity aroused by this trial.

"Did you know that Judge Bolitho's daughter was here yesterday?"

"No. Was she?"

"Yes. I watched her face during the trial. It was as pale as death.
I wonder how she dared to come."

"Why, what do you mean?"

"Oh, you know she was engaged to young Wilson."

"I've heard that was denied."

"Well, anyhow, there's something about it in one of the Brunford
papers, and there's no doubt Wilson was in love with her."

"Then no wonder she was pale."

"Mrs. Jackson told me she saw her smile on the prisoner."

"She must have been mistaken. It's terribly interesting, isn't it?"

"I wonder when they will commence. It's five minutes past time."

This was true. Five minutes had passed away since Paul had been led to
the dock, and still the trial had not commenced. The reason for this
was evident--the judge had not yet appeared. The jurymen were in their
places, conversing in low whispers one with another. More than one was
anxious and pale. A number of barristers were also present, eager for
the commencement of the day's trial. They were wondering what new
factor would be at work that day. To most of them it was a case that
was deeply interesting, one which they wished to study and which might
help them in days to come. Newspaper reporters sat busily writing.
Each was trying to vie with the other to produce a sensational
description. Presently, as if by magic, a great silence fell upon the
court. It was now ten minutes past the time when the trial should
commence, and still the judge had not appeared. Each seemed to be
wondering what was the matter. The air was tense with excitement.
Could anything have happened? What did the judge mean by being late?
And still they waited and watched, until at last the silence became
almost painful.

Presently a deep sigh rose from the crowded seats. It seemed as if the
spectators wanted to give vent to their feelings. A curtain at the
back of the hall was drawn aside, and Judge Bolitho, with bowed head
and staggering footsteps, found his way to his accustomed seat.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DAY OF JUDGMENT (_continued_)

The attention of all present, which h