ly depend."

"How far has the present one proceeded?"

"The defendant's case is not yet completed."

During this scene Hugh Ritson had stood quietly by the table. He
remained there with complete self-possession while counsel proceeded to
explain that four days ago, in anticipation of this action and of
another that had been threatened, a statutory declaration had been made
in the presence of the Home Secretary and the law officers of the Crown.
The first result of that statement was that the convict Drayton was now
present in the court-house ready to appear at this trial.

The judge signified his desire that the convict might be brought in and
heard.

Hugh Ritson motioned to a tall man who stood near, and immediately
afterward a door was thrown open and another man stepped into the
court-room.

Every eye was fixed upon him. He wore a convict's gray jacket, with the
round badge marked "3. B 2001. P S," and the broad arrow beneath. His
face was pale and rigid; his large eyes glittered; he was in his full
manhood, but his close-cropped hair was slightly tinged with gray. He
pushed his way through the people, who fell back to let him pass. When
he reached the table he tapped it impatiently with one of his hands,
which were fettered, and threw up his head with a glance of defiance.
His whole bearing was that of a strong man who believed that every man's
hand was against him, and who intended to let it be seen that his own
hand was against every man's.

Counsel rose again, and asked that the defendant's witnesses might be
recalled. This was done.

"John Proudfoot, Job Sheepshanks, Thomas Lowthwaite, Giles Raisley,
look this way. Who is this man?"

There was a dead hush. Then, one by one, the men who had been named
shook their heads. They did not know the convict. Indeed, he was
terribly altered. The ordeal of the past two years had plowed strange
lines in his face. At that moment he was less like himself than was the
impostor who came there to personate him.

Hugh Ritson's manner did not change. Only a slight curl of the lip
betrayed his feelings.

Counsel continued, "Is there any one in court who recognizes him?"

Not a voice responded. All was silence.

"Will the defendant stand side by side with him?"

Drayton leaped up with a boisterous laugh, and swaggered his way to the
opposite side of the table. As he approached, the convict looked at him
keenly.

"Will Mrs. Ritson come forward again?"

Greta had