He beckoned for Phipps, who sat uneasily, with a scared look upon his face, among the crowd.

“Is that Mrs. Dillingham?” he asked in a whisper.

Phipps assured him that it was.  Then Mr. Belcher wrote upon his card the words:  “Do not, for my sake, remain in this room.”

“Give this to her,” he said to his servant.

The card was delivered, but the lady, quite to his surprise, did not stir.  He thought of his little book, but it seemed impossible that his idol, who had so long been hidden from his sight and his knowledge, could betray him.

A jury was empanneled, the case of Benedict vs. Belcher was called, and the counsel of both parties declared themselves ready for the trial.

The suit was for damages, in the sum of half a million dollars, for the infringement of patents on machines, implements and processes, of which it was declared that the plaintiff was the first and only inventor.  The answer to the complaint alleged the disappearance and death of Benedict, and declared the plaintiff to be an impostor, averred the assignment of all the patents in question to the defendant, and denied the profits.

The judge, set somewhat deep in his shirt-collar, as if his head and his heart were near enough together to hold easy communication, watched the formal proceedings listlessly, out of a pair of pleasant eyes, and when they were completed, nodded to Mr. Balfour, in indication that he was ready to proceed.

Mr. Balfour, gathering his papers before him, rose to make the opening for the prosecution.

“May it please the Court,” he said, “and gentlemen of the jury, I have to present to you a case, either issue of which it is not pleasant for me to contemplate.  Either my client or the defendant will go out of this court, at the conclusion of this case, a blackened man; and, as I have a warm friendship for one of them, and bear no malice to the other, I am free to confess that, while I seek for justice, I shrink from the results of its vindication.”

Mr. Cavendish jumped up and interjected spitefully:  “I beg the gentleman to spare us his hypothetical sentiment.  It is superfluous, so far as my client is concerned, and offensive.”

Mr. Balfour waited calmly for the little explosion and the clearing away of the smoke, and then resumed.  “I take no pleasure in making myself offensive to the defendant and his counsel,” said he, “but, if I am interrupted, I shall be compelled to call things by their right names, and to do some thing more than hint at the real status of this case.  I see other trials, in other courts, at the conclusion of this action,—­other trials with graver issues.  I could not look forward to them with any pleasure, without acknowledging myself to be a knave.  I could not refrain from alluding to them, without convicting myself of carelessness and frivolity.  Something more than money is involved in the issue of this action.  Either the plaintiff or the defendant will go out of this court wrecked in character, blasted in reputation, utterly ruined.  The terms of the bill and the answer determine this result.”