The crowd observed her movements with breathless attention.

All three were admitted within the rail.  John Gaviller sat near the gate.  He looked somewhat dazed.  They saw her offer him her hand with a swift smile, charged with meaning.

The gentlemanly half-breed, Gordon Strange, leaned forward, seeking to attract her attention with an eager smile.  Him she ignored.  She turned to the prisoner.  This was what the crowd was waiting for.

The pale youth and the pale girl had all the look of the principal actors in a drama.  What was between them?  They saw her smile at him, too—­an extraordinary smile, sorrowful, solicitous, cheery.  None could interpret it.

Ambrose was engaged in a desperate struggle to command himself.  At the announcement of her coming hope had sprung up, only to receive a deadlier wound at the first glimpse of her.

She had not found Nesis; very well, it was all up with him.  What matter how dearly Colina loved him if he had to go to jail?  He saw the cheer she offered him in her smile, but he rejected it.

“Nothing can help me now,” he stubbornly insisted.  “If I let myself hope, the disappointment will drive me insane.”  He fought to recover his apathy.

Pascoe and Denholm each sprang up to greet the new witness as if by the warmth of his welcome she would be attracted to his side.

“One moment, gentlemen,” said the judge.  He addressed Colina, “You have evidence to give in this case?”

Colina gravely inclined her head.

His lordship frowned.  “This is very irregular.  I must ask you why you have delayed until this moment?”

“I have just arrived in town,” said Colina.

“Couldn’t you have communicated with counsel?”

“I have come from the north.  There was no way of sending out a message ahead.  I am the first one out since the freeze-up.”

The judge nodded to show himself satisfied.  “Is the evidence you have to give favorable to the prisoner or unfavorable?”

The court-room held its breath for her answer.

“Favorable,” she murmured.

John Gaviller looked up astonished.

The judge gave her over to Denholm.  “Will you examine?” he asked.

Denholm consulted with his client.  Ambrose, up to this moment so indifferent to the lawyers, could be seen giving him positive instructions.  Denholm expostulated with him.  The bench showed symptoms of impatience.  Finally Denholm rose.

“My lord,” he said.  “I have never seen Miss Gaviller before this moment.  I have no inkling of the nature of her evidence.  Left to myself, I should ask for an adjournment; surely we are entitled to it.  But my client insists on going ahead.  My lord”—­his voice shook a little—­“none but an innocent man could be so rash!”

“Never mind that,” rebuked the judge.  He was distinctly nettled by the upset of court decorum.