Mr. Benedict and Jim, on their arrival in the city, took up their residence in Mrs. Dillingham’s house, and the landlord of Number Nine spent several days in making the acquaintance of the city, under the guidance of his old companion, who was at home.  Jim went through a great mental convulsion.  At first, what seemed to him the magnitude of the life, enterprise and wealth of the city, depressed him.  He declared that he “had ben growin’ smaller an’ smaller every minute” since he left Sevenoaks.  “I felt as if I’d allers ben a fly, crawlin’ ’round on the edge of a pudden,” he said, when asked whether he enjoyed the city.  But before the trial came on, he had fully recovered his old equanimity.  The city grew smaller the more he explored it, until, when compared with the great woods, the lonely rivers, and the broad solitudes in which he had spent his life, it seemed like a toy; and the men who chaffered in the market, and the women who thronged the avenues, or drove in the park, or filled the places of amusement, came to look like children, engaged in frolicsome games.  He felt that people who had so little room to breathe in must be small; and before the trial brought him into practical contact with them, he was himself again, and quite ready to meet them in any encounter which required courage or address.

CHAPTER XXVI.

IN WHICH THE CASE OF “BENEDICT VS. BELCHER” FINDS ITSELF IN COURT, AN INTERESTING QUESTION OF IDENTITY IS SETTLED, AND A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE TAKES PLACE.

“OYEZ! Oyez! All-persons-having-business-to-do-with-the -Circuit-Court-of-the-United-States-for-the-Southern-Distric
t-of -New-York,-draw-near,-give-your-attention,-and-you-shall-be-
heard."

“That’s the crier,” whispered Mr. Benedict to Jim.

“What’s the matter of ’im?” inquired the latter.

“That’s the way they open the court.”

“Well, if he opens it with cryin’, he’ll have a tough time a shuttin’ on it,” responded Jim, in a whisper so loud that he attracted attention.

There within the bar sat Mr. Balfour, calmly examining his papers.  He looked up among the assembled jurors, witnesses and idlers, and beckoned Benedict to his side.  There sat Robert Belcher with his counsel.  The great rascal was flashily dressed, with a stupendous show of shirt-front, over which fell, down by the side of the diamond studs, a heavy gold chain.  Brutality, vulgarity, self-assurance and an over-bearing will, all expressed themselves in his broad face, bold eyes and heavy chin.  Mr. Cavendish, with his uneasy scalp, white hands, his scornful lips and his thin, twitching nostrils, looked the very impersonation of impatience and contempt.  If the whole court-room had been thronged with vermin instead of human beings, among which he was obliged to sit, he could not have appeared more disgusted.  Quite retired among the audience, and deeply veiled, sat Mrs. Dillingham.  Mr. Belcher detected her, and, though he could not see her face, felt that he could not be mistaken as to her identity.  Why was she there?  Why, but to notice the progress and issue of the trial, in her anxiety for him?  He was not glad to see her there.