The court was crowded; and from the murmurs round he could tell that it was his particular case which had brought so many there.  In a dazed way he watched charge after charge disposed of with lightning quickness.  But were they never going to reach his business?  And then suddenly he saw the little scarecrow man of last night advancing to the dock between two policemen, more ragged and miserable than ever by light of day, like some shaggy, wan, grey animal, surrounded by sleek hounds.

A sort of satisfied purr was rising all round; and with horror Laurence perceived that this—­this was the man accused of what he himself had done—­this queer, battered unfortunate to whom he had shown a passing friendliness.  Then all feeling merged in the appalling interest of listening.  The evidence was very short.  Testimony of the hotel-keeper where Walenn had been staying, the identification of his body, and of a snake-shaped ring he had been wearing at dinner that evening.  Testimony of a pawnbroker, that this same ring was pawned with him the first thing yesterday morning by the prisoner.  Testimony of a policeman that he had noticed the man Evan several times in Glove Lane, and twice moved him on from sleeping under that arch.  Testimony of another policeman that, when arrested at midnight, Evan had said:  “Yes; I took the ring off his finger.  I found him there dead ....  I know I oughtn’t to have done it....  I’m an educated man; it was stupid to pawn the ring.  I found him with his pockets turned inside out.”

Fascinating and terrible to sit staring at the man in whose place he should have been; to wonder when those small bright-grey bloodshot eyes would spy him out, and how he would meet that glance.  Like a baited raccoon the little man stood, screwed back into a corner, mournful, cynical, fierce, with his ridged, obtuse yellow face, and his stubbly grey beard and hair, and his eyes wandering now and again amongst the crowd.  But with all his might Laurence kept his face unmoved.  Then came the word “Remanded”; and, more like a baited beast than ever, the man was led away.

Laurence sat on, a cold perspiration thick on his forehead.  Someone else, then, had come on the body and turned the pockets inside out before John Evan took the ring.  A man such as Walenn would not be out at night without money.  Besides, if Evan had found money on the body he would never have run the risk of taking that ring.  Yes, someone else had come on the body first.  It was for that one to come forward, and prove that the ring was still on the dead man’s finger when he left him, and thus clear Evan.  He clung to that thought; it seemed to make him less responsible for the little man’s position; to remove him and his own deed one step further back.  If they found the person who had taken the money, it would prove Evan’s innocence.  He came out of the court in a sort of trance.  And a craving to get drunk attacked