"There's your husband," George whispered, "now do you draw on."

George's part in the drama was played, and with a sigh of relief he
fell back to watch its final development. He saw the fierce tall woman
slip through the crowd like a snake or a panther to its prey, and some
compunction touched him when he thought of the prey. He glanced at the
elderly respectable-looking gentleman by the table, and reflected that
he too was stalking /his/ prey--the old Squire and the ancient house
of de la Molle. Then his compunction vanished, and he rejoiced to
think that he would be the means of destroying a man who, to fill his
pockets, did not hesitate to ruin the family with which his life and
the lives of his forefathers had been interwoven for many generations.

By this time the woman had fought her way through the press, bursting
the remaining buttons off her ulster in so doing, and reached the bar
which separated spectators from the space reserved for the officials.
On the further side of the bar was a gangway, and beyond it a table at
which Mr. Quest sat. He had been busy writing something all this time,
now he rose, passed it to Mr. de la Molle, and then turned to sit down
again.

Meanwhile his wife had craned her long lithe body forward over the bar
till her head was almost level with the hither edge of the table.
There she stood glaring at him, her wicked face alive with fury and
malice, for the brandy she had drunk had caused her to forget her
fears.

As Mr. Quest turned, his eye caught the flash of colour from the
peacock feather hat. Thence it travelled to the face beneath.

He gave a gasp, and the court seemed to whirl round him. The sword had
fallen indeed!

"Well, Billy!" whispered the hateful voice, "you see I've come to look
you up."

With a desperate effort he recovered himself. A policeman was standing
near. He beckoned to him, and told him to remove the woman, who was
drunk. The policeman advanced and touched her on the arm.

"Come, you be off," he said, "you're drunk."

At that moment Mr. de la Molle ceased giving judgment.

"I ain't drunk," said the woman, loud enough to attract the attention
of the whole court, which now for the first time observed her
extraordinary attire, "and I've a right to be in the public court."

"Come on," said the policeman, "the clerk says you're to go."

"The clerk says so, does he?" she answered, "and do you know who the
clerk is? I'll tell you all," and she raised he