micircular seats of unpainted pine for the accommodation of the
public rose tier above tier, but most of them were empty. There were
present several gentlemen of the legal profession, but they kept
silence, and never interrupted the counsel's address. Nor did the
judge utter a word; he sat at his desk sideways, with his boots
resting on a chair. He wore neither wig nor gown, and had not even
put on his Sunday go-to-meeting clothes. Neither had the lawyers.
If there was a court crier or constable present he was indistinguishable
from the rest of the audience.

Near the judge's desk there was a bucket of water and three tumblers
on a small table. It was a hot day. The counsel paused in his
speech, went to the table, and took a drink; a juryman left the box
and drank. The judge also came down from his seat, dipped a tumbler
in the bucket and quenched his thirst; one spectator after another
went to the bucket. There was equality and fraternity in the court
of law; the speech about the Skemelhorne horse went on with the
utmost gravity and decorum, until the nasal drawl of the learned
counsel put me to sleep.

On awakening, I went into another hall, in which dealings in real
estate were registered. Shelves fixed against the walls held huge
volumes lettered on the back. One of these volumes was on a table in
the centre of the hall, and in it the registrar was copying a deed.
Before him lay a pile of deeds with a lead weight on the top. A
farmer came in with a paper, on which the registrar endorsed a number
and placed at the bottom of the pile. There was no parchment used;
each document was a half-sheet foolscap size, party printed and
partly written. Another farmer came in, took up the pile and
examined the numbers to see how soon his deed was likely to be
copied, and if it was in its proper place according to the number
endorsed. The registrar was not fenced off from the public by a wide
counter; he was the servant of the citizens, and had to satisfy those
who paid him for his labours. His pay was a fixed number of cents
per folio, not dollars, nor pounds.

When I went back to gaol I found it deserted. Wilkins had sold his
farm and disappeared. His wife remained in the hut. Sheriff
Cunningham was still away among the Bluenoses, and Silas was 'functus
officio', having accomplished a general gaol delivery. He did not
pine away on account of the loss of his prisoners, nor grow any
thinner--that was impossi