ny shocks.

The members of the junior bar chatted with the representatives of the
lower branch of the profession who ranged from articled clerks whose
young souls had not been entirely dried up by association with parchment,
to hard old delvers in dusty documents who had lived so long in the legal
atmosphere of quibbling, obstruction, and deceit, that they were as
incapable of an honest impetuous act as of an illegal one. The gossip
concerning the murdered judge in which the two branches of the profession
joined had reference to his moral character in legal circles. There had
always been gossip of the kind in his life-time. Sir Horace's judicial
reputation was beyond reproach and he had known his law a great deal
better than most of his judicial colleagues. Comparatively few of his
decisions had been upset on appeal. But every one about the courts knew
that he was susceptible to a pretty feminine face and a good figure.

Many were the conflicts that arose in court between bench and bar as the
result of Mr. Justice Fewbanks's habit of protecting pretty witnesses
from cross-examining questions which he regarded as outside the case.
There was no suggestion that his judicial decisions were influenced by
the good looks of ladies who were parties to the cases heard by him, but
there were rumours that on occasions the relations between the judge and
a pretty witness begun in court had ripened into something at which moral
men might well shake their heads.

While the members of the legal profession struggled to obtain seats in
the body of the court, an entirely different class of spectators
struggled to get into the gallery. For the most part they were badly
dressed men who needed a shave, but there were a few well-dressed men
among them, and also a few ladies. Detective Rolfe took a professional
interest in the occupants of the gallery. "What a collection of crooks,"
he whispered to Inspector Chippenfield. "A regular rogues' gallery.
Look--there is 'Nosey George'; it is time he was in again. And behind him
is that cunning old 'drop' Ikey Samuels--I wish we could get him. Look at
the other end of the first row. Isn't that 'Sunny Jim'? I hardly knew
him. He's grown a beard since he's been out. We'll soon have it off again
for him. He's got the impudence to scowl at us. He'll lay for you one of
these nights, Inspector."

The judicial duties of the murdered man had been concerned chiefly with
civil cases at the Royal Courts of