women amongst the audience.
The younger ones eyed him with sympathy as he was brought into the dock:
his good looks, his blue eyes, his air of breeding, his well-cut
clothes, appealed to their sensibilities, and if they had been given the
opportunity they would have acquitted him without the formality of a
trial as far "too nice a boy" to have committed murder.

To the array of legal talent assembled together by the golden wand of
Costs the figure of the accused man had no personal significance but the
actual facts at issue entered as little into their minds as into the
pitying hearts of the female spectators. The accused had no individual
existence so far as they were concerned: he was merely a pawn in the
great legal game, of which the lawyers were the players and the judge
the referee, and the side which won the pawn won the game. As this
particular game represented an attack on the sacred tradition of
Precedent, both sides had secured the strongest professional intellects
possible to contest the match, and the lesser legal fry of Norwich had
gathered together to witness the struggle, and pick up what points they
could.

The leader for the prosecution was Sir Herbert Templewood, K.C., M.P., a
political barrister, with a Society wife, a polished manner, and a
deadly gift of cross-examination. With him was Mr. Grover Braecroft, a
dour Scotch lawyer of fifty-five, who was currently believed to know the
law from A to Z, and really had an intimate acquaintance with those five
letters which made up the magic word Costs. Apart from this valuable
knowledge, he was a cunning and crafty lawyer, picked in the present
case to supply the brains to Sir Herbert Templewood's brilliance, and do
the jackal work which the lion disdained. The pair were supported by a
Crown Solicitor well versed in precedents--a little prim figure of a man
who sat with so many volumes of judicial decisions and reports of test
cases piled in front of him that only the upper portion of his grey head
was visible above the books.

The defence relied mainly upon Mr. Reginald Middleheath, the eminent
criminal counsel, who depended as much upon his portly imposing stage
presence to bluff juries into an acquittal as upon his legal
attainments, which were also considerable. Mr. Middleheath's cardinal
article of legal faith was that all juries were fools, and should be
treated as such, because if they once got the idea into their heads that
they knew something