profession joined had reference to his moral character in legal circles.  There had always been gossip of the kind in his life-time.  Sir Horace’s judicial reputation was beyond reproach and he had known his law a great deal better than most of his judicial colleagues.  Comparatively few of his decisions had been upset on appeal.  But every one about the courts knew that he was susceptible to a pretty feminine face and a good figure.

Many were the conflicts that arose in court between bench and bar as the result of Mr. Justice Fewbanks’s habit of protecting pretty witnesses from cross-examining questions which he regarded as outside the case.  There was no suggestion that his judicial decisions were influenced by the good looks of ladies who were parties to the cases heard by him, but there were rumours that on occasions the relations between the judge and a pretty witness begun in court had ripened into something at which moral men might well shake their heads.

While the members of the legal profession struggled to obtain seats in the body of the court, an entirely different class of spectators struggled to get into the gallery.  For the most part they were badly dressed men who needed a shave, but there were a few well-dressed men among them, and also a few ladies.  Detective Rolfe took a professional interest in the occupants of the gallery.  “What a collection of crooks,” he whispered to Inspector Chippenfield.  “A regular rogues’ gallery.  Look—­there is ‘Nosey George’; it is time he was in again.  And behind him is that cunning old ‘drop’ Ikey Samuels—­I wish we could get him.  Look at the other end of the first row.  Isn’t that ‘Sunny Jim’?  I hardly knew him.  He’s grown a beard since he’s been out.  We’ll soon have it off again for him.  He’s got the impudence to scowl at us.  He’ll lay for you one of these nights, Inspector.”

The judicial duties of the murdered man had been concerned chiefly with civil cases at the Royal Courts of Justice, but when the criminal calendar had been heavy he had often presided at Number One Court at the Old Bailey.  It was this fact which had given the criminal class a sort of personal interest in his murder and accounted for the presence of many well-known criminals who happened to be out of gaol at the time.  The spectators in the gallery included men whom the murdered man had sentenced and men who had been fortunate enough to escape being sentenced by him owing to the vagaries of juries.  There were pickpockets, sneak thieves, confidence men, burglars, and receivers among the occupants of the gallery, and many of them had brought with them the ladies who assisted them professionally or presided over their homes when they were not in gaol.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the man we want is among that bunch,” said Rolfe to Inspector Chippenfield.

“You’ve a lot to learn about them, my boy,” said his superior.

“There is Crewe up among them,” continued Rolfe.  “I wonder what he thinks he’s after.”