Several policemen hastened to her, and the girl was partly hustled and partly carried out of court, shrieking as she went.  When the commotion caused by the scene subsided, the judge irritably requested to be informed who the woman was.

“I don’t know, my lord,” replied Mr. Walters.  “Perhaps—­” He stopped and bent over to Detective Rolfe, who was pulling at his gown.  “Er—­yes, I’m informed by Detective Rolfe of Scotland Yard, my lord, that the young woman is a witness in the case.”

“Then why was she permitted to remain in court?” asked Sir Henry Hodson angrily.  “It is a piece of gross carelessness.”

“I do not know, my lord.  I was unaware she was a witness until this moment,” returned Mr. Walters, with a discreet glance in the direction of Detective Rolfe, as an indication to His Honour that the judicial storm might safely veer in that direction.  Sir Henry took the hint and administered such a stinging rebuke to Detective Rolfe that that officer’s face took on a much redder tint before it was concluded.  Then the judge motioned to Mr. Walters to resume the case.

Counsel, with his index finger still in the place in his brief where he had been interrupted, rose to his feet again and turned to the jury.

“Birchill returned to the flat at Westminster shortly after midnight,” he continued.  “Hill had been compelled by Birchills threats to remain at the flat with the girl while Birchill visited Riversbrook, and the first thing Birchill told him on his return was that he had found Sir Horace Fewbanks dead in his house when he entered it.  On his way back from committing the crime belated caution had probably dictated to Birchill the wisdom of endeavouring to counteract his previous threat to murder Sir Horace Fewbanks.  He probably remembered that Hill, who had heard the threat, was an unwilling participator in the plan for the burglary, and might therefore denounce him to the police for the greater crime if he (Birchill) admitted that he had committed it.  In order to guard against this contingency still further Birchill forced Hill to join in writing a letter to Scotland Yard, acquainting them with the murder, and the fact that the body was lying in the empty house.  Birchill’s object in acting thus was a twofold one.  He dared not trust Hill to pretend to discover the body the next day and give information to the police, for fear he should not be able to retain sufficient control of himself to convince the detectives that he was wholly ignorant of the crime, and he also thought that if Hill had a share in writing the letter he would feel an additional complicity in the crime, and keep silence for his own sake.  Birchill was right in his calculations—­up to a point.  Hill was at first too frightened to disclose what he knew, but as time went on his affection for his murdered master, and his desire to bring the murderer to justice, overcame his feelings of fear for his own share in bringing about the crime,