g still more of the family
ways and habits, and had acquired a knowledge of certain facts which
he proceeded forthwith to use against us. His first attack, as the
Seer, had been cleverly designed so as to give us the idea that we
were a mere casual prey; and it did not escape Charles's notice now
that the detail of getting Madame Picardet to inquire at the Credit
Marseillais about his bank had been solemnly gone through on purpose
to blind us to the obvious truth that Colonel Clay was already in
full possession of all such facts about us. It was by Cesarine's
aid, again, that he became possessed of Amelia's diamonds, that
he received the letter addressed to Lord Craig-Ellachie, and
that he managed to dupe us over the Schloss Lebenstein business.
Nevertheless, all these things Charles determined to conceal in
court; he did not give the police a single fact that would turn
against either Cesarine or Madame Picardet.

As for Cesarine, of course, she left the house immediately after the
arrest of the Colonel, and we heard of her no more till the day of
the trial.

When that great day came, I never saw a more striking sight than the
Old Bailey presented. It was crammed to overflowing. Charles arrived
early, accompanied by his solicitor. He was so white and troubled
that he looked much more like prisoner than prosecutor. Outside the
court a pretty little woman stood, pale and anxious. A respectful
crowd stared at her silently. "Who is that?" Charles asked. Though
we could both of us guess, rather than see, it was White Heather.

"That's the prisoner's wife," the inspector on duty replied. "She's
waiting to see him enter. I'm sorry for her, poor thing. She's a
perfect lady."

"So she seems," Charles answered, scarcely daring to face her.

At that moment she turned. Her eyes fell upon his. Charles paused
for a second and looked faltering. There was in those eyes just the
faintest gleam of pleading recognition, but not a trace of the old
saucy, defiant vivacity. Charles framed his lips to words, but
without uttering a sound. Unless I greatly mistake, the words he
framed on his lips were these: "I will do my best for him."

We pushed our way in, assisted by the police. Inside the court we
saw a lady seated, in a quiet black dress, with a becoming bonnet.
A moment passed before I knew--it was Cesarine. "Who is--that
person?" Charles asked once more of the nearest inspector, desiring
to see in what way he would describe her