nd climbed the steps leading to the room wherein the trial was
being held.

"I shall know him," he said to himself, "know him among a thousand!"

He did not seem to consider that this visit would lead to anything; he
only wanted to see the man who had blackened his mother's life. The
justice chamber was very full as he entered it, and he could not help
being impressed by the scene before him. The judge, with his legal
robes and his formidable-looking wig, sitting grave and stern on his
seat of eminence; the eager faces of the barristers; the watchful eyes
of the solicitors; the important look on the faces of the twelve
jurymen who sat huddled in a kind of square box; the anxious face of
the man who stood in the witness-box giving evidence; all appealed to
the young fellow's imagination, and caused his pulses to throb
violently. So great was the impression made upon him that for the
moment he almost forgot the purpose for which he came. This was life
indeed, and the work of making looms appeared to him as a kind of
sordid drudgery. The ambitions which had lain smouldering in his heart
for a long time sprang into flame again, and he determined that, while
he saw no chance of his being a judge, or even like one of the
barristers who sat around the table beneath the judge's bench, he at
least could become prominent in the great busy life of the world. The
case itself, too, cast a kind of spell upon him; he listened eagerly to
the questions that were being asked, and as he caught the meaning of
the things for which these men were fighting, the picture of his
mother's sorrows became less real and less vital. But this was not for
long. Presently one of the counsel rose to address the jury, and there
was a kind of flutter among the spectators as he did so.

"Yon's Graham," he heard a man say by his side, and then the purport of
his coming to Manchester laid hold of him.

"Which is Graham?" he asked of the man.

"Yon man who has just got on his feet," was the reply. "He's a rare
'un, is Graham. I wouldn't like 'im to cross-examine me! You'll see,
he'll tear t'other chap's case all to flitters!"

Paul turned his eyes towards the barrister in question, and then, he
could not tell why, but his heart became like lead. This was not the
man he had come to see. It was true he could not see the colour of his
hair, because It was hidden by his barrister's wig, but the face was
different from any he had ever seen in his