“Every one behaved splendidly,” interposed Sir Charles.  “You,” gazing contemplatively at the girl, “were but a child then, Jocelyn.”

She did not answer; the beautiful face had abruptly changed; all laughter had gone from the clear blue eyes.

“She is thinking of the convict who saved her!” observed Sir Charles in an explanatory tone to Captain Forsythe.  “Quite an interesting episode, ’pon honor!  Tell you about it later.  Never saw anything finer, or better.  And the amazing part of it is, the fellow looked like a brute, had the low, ignorant face of an ex-bruiser.  He’d gone to the bad, taken to drink, and committed I don’t know how many crimes!  Yet that man, the lowest of the low—­”

“You must not speak of him that way!” The girl’s hands were clasped; the slender, shapely figure was very straight.  Her beautiful blue eyes, full of varying lights, flashed, then became dimmed; a suspicion of mist blurred the long, sweeping lashes.  “He had a big, noble spark in his soul.  And I think of him many, many times!” she repeated, the sweet, gay lips trembling sensitively.  “Brave fellow!  Brave fellow!” The words fell in a whisper.

“Fortunate fellow, I should say, to be so remembered by you, Miss Jocelyn!” interposed Captain Forsythe.  “Eh, Ronsdale?”

“Fortunate, indeed!” the thin lips replied stiffly.

“Pity he should have been drowned though!” Captain Forsythe went on.  “He would, I am sure, have made a most interesting study in contrasts!”

She, however, seemed not to hear either compliment—­or comment, but stood for a moment as in a reverie.  “I am almost sorry I was persuaded to come here to-day,” she said at length, thoughtfully.  “I don’t believe I shall like courts, or,” she added, “find them amusing!”

“Nonsense!” Sir Charles laughed.  “I have heard his lordship has a pretty sense of humor, and never fails, when opportunity offers, to indulge it.”

“Even when sentencing people?”

“Well; there is no need of turning the proceedings into a funeral.”

“I don’t believe I should laugh at his wit,” said the girl.  “And is this Mr. John Steele witty, too?”

“Oh, no!  Anything irrelevant from any one else wouldn’t be allowed by his lordship.”

Here Ronsdale lifted his hat.  “May happen back this way,” he observed.  “That is,” looking at Jocelyn Wray, “if you don’t object?”

“I?  Not at all!  Of course, it would bore you—­a trial!  You are so easily bored.  Is it the club?”

“No; another engagement.  Thank you so much for permission to return for you—­very kind.  Hope you will find it amusing.  Good morning!” And Lord Ronsdale vanished down the narrow way.