a head and face indicative of intellect and every kindly
attribute, I turned to gaze upon Mr. Fox and his colleagues. One spirit
seemed to animate them--confidence in their case, and unqualified
satisfaction at its present status.

I was conscious of a certain ironic impulse to smile, as I noted the
eager whisper and the bustle of preparation with which they settled upon
their next witness and prepared to open their batteries upon him. How
easily I could call down that high look, and into what a turmoil I could
throw them all by an ingenuous demand to be recalled to the stand!

But the psychological moment had not yet come, and I subdued the
momentary impulse and proceeded with my scrutiny of the people about me.
The jury looked tired, with the exception of one especially alert little
man who drank in even the most uninteresting details with avidity. But
they all had good faces, and none could doubt their interest, or that
they were fully alive to the significance of the occasion.

Mr. Moffat, leading counsel for the defendant, was a spare man of unusual
height, modified a little, and only a little, by the forward droop of his
shoulders. Nervous in manner, quick, short, sometimes rasping in speech,
he had the changeful eye and mobile expression of a very sensitive
nature; and from him, if from any one, I might hope to learn how much or
how little Arthur had to fear from the day's proceedings. But Mr.
Moffat's countenance was not as readable as usual. He looked
preoccupied--a strange thing for him; and, instead of keeping his eye on
the witness, as was his habitual practice, he allowed it to wander over
the sea of heads before him, with a curious expectant interest which
aroused my own curiosity, and led me to hunt about for its cause.

My first glance was unproductive. I saw only the usual public, such as
had confronted us the whole week, with curious and increasing interest.
But as I searched further, I discerned in an inconspicuous corner, the
bowed head, veiled almost beyond recognition, of Ella Fulton. It was her
first appearance in court. Each day I had anticipated her presence, and
each day I had failed to see my anticipations realised. But she was here
now, and so were her father and her cold and dominating mother; and,
beholding her thus accompanied, I fancied I understood Mr. Moffat's
poorly concealed excitement. But another glance at Mrs. Fulton assured me
that I was mistaken in this hasty surmise. No such