, beneath the amber panoply of the
Bench, the Recorder sat, an ascetic Solon.

The atmosphere of the room, high ceiled, close packed, was
Senegambian. Without you could see, within you could feel, the heat
and eagerness of the autumnal sun.

"Arthur Annandale to the Bar!"

Into the court, as though it were a theatre, the defendant strolled,
perfectly groomed, the Tombs pallor on his face but none of its dust
on his coat, an air of tranquil boredom about him. At his heels was a
keeper. He shook hands with Orr, sat down beside him, turned and gave
his hat to the keeper, turned again and looked over to a gated
inclosure at the right of the Bench where, in a sort of proscenium
box, Sylvia sat with her mother.

The entire settings were those of a play. With this difference, it was
real, a drama of mud and blood without orchestral accompaniment. After
months of preparation, after days of talesmen baiting, on this Indian
Summer forenoon the curtain was rising. The jury it had been a job to
get. A full hundred were examined, cross-questioned, challenged and
rejected before the dozen were boxed. When the last, the twelfth, a
cadaverous individual, was accepted the stage was set.

"May it please the Court; Mr. Foreman and gentlemen of the jury."

With three bows and these rituals, Peacock opened for the State,
outlining the case of the People, describing the crime, detailing the
motive, summarizing the evidence, expressing the wish that the jury
would believe the defendant innocent until his guilt had been proved,
but declaring that, personally, for his own part, of that guilt he was
thoroughly convinced.

Before he had finished Orr was at him. "I object to the District
Attorney prejudicing the jury against this gentleman, my client."

That gentleman did not appear to heed. From Sylvia and her mother he
had turned to look at the spectators, from them to fabulous beasts
that climbed the fluted columns on the walls.

The objection was not sustained.

"And I object to Your Honor's ruling," Orr with a bulldog look threw
up at the Bench.

Peacock proceeded. "There, gentlemen, is the crime, there too, the
motive. To finish the picture evidence will be adduced."

He sat down. Then getting up, he called the first witness for the
People, the Gramercy Park caretaker, who had found the body. The
witness was succeeded by others, by the policeman on the beat, by the
coroner's physician, by experts and servants.

By turn Orr t