ng, and he wondered whether
he had in some way learned the truth.

When Judge Bolitho opened his mouth to speak, Paul's heart seemed to
stop. So intense was his interest in what he would say that, for the
moment, he forgot his own position. The shadow of death was somehow
removed from him; that grimness and the horror of the trial had lost
their meaning. That "Gentlemen, I wish to make a statement which is of
the utmost importance. I wish to say that I can no longer sit in
judgment on this case . . ."--what did it mean? A thousand wild
fancies flashed through his mind. He wondered whether Mary Bolitho had
been at work, whether this was the first step in her endeavours to
prove him innocent. He did not know how it could be, but, like
lightning, his mind and heart flew to her.

He gave a quick glance around the court and turned towards the spot
where he had seen her on the previous day. Even then he realised that
all attention was turned from him to the judge, realised that everyone
waited with breathless interest for the next words that should fall
from his lips. But he could not see Mary. Again his eyes swept over
the crowded benches which held the spectators, but she was not there.
He wondered why. In a sense he was glad. At least she no longer
looked upon his ignominy and shame. And yet he felt the loss of her
presence. The day before she had cheered him in spite of himself,
strengthened him to bear the brunt of the battle; but now he was alone.

Again the judge spoke, and Paul listened to every word that passed his
lips. Like the other spectators, he was eager to know what would
follow.

"I cannot continue to sit in judgment upon the prisoner," went on the
judge; and every word was clearly enunciated. "And my reason for this
is all-sufficient--I cannot sit in judgment upon him because I have
learnt that he is my own son!"

Paul's heart gave a leap as he heard the words. It seemed to him as
though the atmosphere of the court changed as if by magic. There was
something electric in it, something that seemed to alter the whole
state of affairs and change the current of events. His heart beat with
a new hope and burned with a strange joy. He had not yet grasped what
it meant. He could not yet read the thoughts that were passing in the
judge's mind, but he felt their consequence, felt that, in spite of
everything, the sky was becoming brighter.

The effect on the court, as may be imagined, was t