n his own defence. He may work
wonders that way. He has done very little cross-examining to-day, but
that may be part of his method. I think he's going to rely on his
analysis of evidence. It's not an unsound process. Cross-examinations
ofttimes mean very little. Justice Hawkins, you may remember, when he
was practising at the Bar, used to depend almost entirely on his
closing speech, and he won more cases than perhaps any other man.
Still, we must not depend upon that. Nothing shall be left undone,
Mary."

"Father, I'm going to see Paul."

"Better wait, better wait," he replied. "I am afraid a visit from you
would do him more harm than good. You'd have to tell him about his
mother's illness."

"I'm going to write to him to-night, anyhow," said Mary.

"But tell him nothing that will pain him, Mary."

When Mary left the room Judge Bolitho nearly lost control over himself.
The days were slipping away, and nothing had been done. In spite of
every inquiry he had made, he seemed to be getting no nearer to the
solution he sought for. Like Mary, he was convinced that Paul had
never done the deed; and yet, unless the murderer could be discovered,
he could not close his eyes to Paul's face. For more than an hour he
went over the whole miserable story again, connecting link with link,
incident with incident, opinion with opinion. Still the same blank
wall met him.

"I can't stay indoors any longer," he muttered. "I must get out into
the open air."

It was now about nine o'clock, and, almost heedless whither he went, he
found his way into the heart of the town. Judge Bolitho had by this
time become an almost familiar figure among the people of Brunford. He
had gone all over the town making inquiries. He had spent much time in
the neighbourhood of Paul's factory making investigations. He had
talked with all sorts of people, and all, knowing what he desired, had
told him everything they knew. But still the secret remained a secret.

Presently he found himself in the market-place, where there were
excited groups of people discussing that day's trial. The judge
wandered from one group to another listening eagerly. A large ulster
almost covered his face, for the nights were very cold, and but few
recognised him. It seemed to be the settled conviction among the
people that Paul's case was hopeless. At length he heard someone
speaking who attracted his attention strangely. It was not because of
what he