dge Bolitho was florid, somewhat heavy featured, in spite
of the fact that his face was cast in a classical mould. He was fresh
coloured, too, and suggested a _bon vivant_. Judge Branscombe, on the
other hand, was a little man, with small, watchful eyes and
sharp-pointed features. He was a lawyer to his very finger-tips, keen,
penetrating, and a master of detail. He was a judge who did not deal
with broad issues. He dealt with facts, hard, incontrovertible facts,
rather than what might lie beyond them. What might be called "internal
evidence" had little weight with him. What any prisoner might be
likely to do under a given set of circumstances had little or no weight
with him. It was what the prisoner had been known to do that he
fastened upon and held to with the tenacity of a terrier. Not a cruel
man by any means, but in a sense a little man; a man of keen intellect
but of narrow outlook; a man who followed out a certain set of
circumstances to their logical issue regardless of all other
probabilities which might appear. Such was the judge who sat to hear
Paul's case that day. Such was the man who in time would have to
advise the jury concerning their verdict.

Paul was not long in summing up the nature of Judge Branscombe, and he
felt sure that under his guidance the trial would more than ever rest
upon circumstantial evidence. This man was not a reader of character,
not one who studied probabilities, therefore he felt his battle would
be hard to fight.

The court was again crowded to its utmost capacity, and the excitement
which had prevailed at the first trial had not lessened in the
slightest degree. Everyone there knew of what had taken place and
realised the reason for the change of judges. All sorts of rumours had
been afloat concerning what had become of Judge Bolitho, what had been
said in high places, and what the result would be in his future career.
The whole affair had been the talk of the country. People had come
from afar to witness the outcome of this strange case, and, as on the
previous occasion, the atmosphere was tense with excitement and keen
with expectation.

Again the clerk of the assizes rose and read the indictment, and again
the judge turned to Paul and asked him whether he were guilty or not
guilty.

"Not guilty, my lord," he replied.

Everyone noted that there was a tone of defiance in his voice which
they had missed on the first occasion. He found himself examining t