The name of Mildred Jocelyn was now called, and there was a murmur of expectant interest in the court-room, for she was not by any means an ordinary prisoner in appearance, and there were not a few present who knew something of the case.  The young girl was pushed before the bar, and would gladly have clung to it, in order to support her trembling form.  But while she could not infuse vigor into her overtaxed muscles, her brave spirit rallied to meet the emergency, and she fixed her eyes unwaveringly upon the judge, who now for the first time noticed her attentively, and it did not escape her intensely quickened perceptions that his eyes at once grew kindly and sympathetic.  Sitting day after day, and year after year, in his position, he had gained a wonderful insight into character, and in Mildred’s pure, sweet face he saw no evidence of guilt or of criminal tendencies.  It was, indeed, white with fear, and thin from wearing toil and grief; but this very pallor made it seem only more spiritual and free from earthliness, while every feature, and the unconscious grace of her attitude, bespoke high breeding and good blood.

First, the officer who arrested her told his story, and then the elder of the two women who searched her was summoned as the first witness.  The judge looked grave, and he glanced uneasily at the prisoner from time to time; but the same clear, steadfast eyes met his gaze, unsullied by a trace of guilt.  Then the second woman corroborated the story of her associate, and the judge asked, “How came you to suspect the prisoner so strongly as to search her?” and at this point the floor-walker was summoned.

The vigilant magistrate did not fail to note the momentary glance of aversion and horror which Mildred bestowed upon this man, and then her eyes returned with so deep and pathetic an appeal to his face that his heart responded, and his judgment led him also to believe that there was error and perhaps wrong in the prosecution.  Still he was compelled to admit to himself that the case looked very dark for the girl, who was gaining so strong a hold on his sympathy.

“I must inform your Honor,” began the witness plausibly, after having been sworn, “that laces had been missed from the department in which this girl was employed, and I was keenly on the alert, as it was my duty to be.  Some suspicious circumstances led me to think that the prisoner was the guilty party, and the search proved my suspicions to be correct.”

“What were the suspicious circumstances?”

The man seemed at a loss for a moment.  “Well, your Honor, she went to the cloak-room yesterday afternoon,” he said.

“Do not all the girls go to the cloak-room occasionally?”

“Yes, but there was something in her face and manner that fastened my suspicions upon her.”

“What evidences of guilt did you detect?”

“I can scarcely explain—­nothing very tangible.  The evidences of guilt were found on her person, your Honor.”