“Yes, so much has been clearly shown.”

“And she was very reluctant to be searched, which would not have been the case had she been conscious of innocence.”

The woman who searched her was now asked, “Did she shrink from search, in such a manner as to betoken guilt?”

“I can’t say that she did show any fear of being searched by us,” was the reply.  “She refused to be searched in the private office of the firm.”

“That is, in the presence of men?  Quite naturally she did.”  Then to the floor-walker, “Have your relations with this girl been entirely friendly?”

“I am glad to say I have no relations with her whatever.  My relations are the same that I hold to the other girls—­merely to see that they do their duty.”

“You are perfectly sure that you have never cherished any ill-will toward her?”

“So far from it, I was at first inclined to be friendly.”

“What do you mean by the term friendly?”

“Well, your Honor” (a little confusedly), “the term seems plain enough.”

“And she did not reciprocate your friendship?” was the keen query.

“After I came to know her better, I gave her no occasion to reciprocate anything; and, pardon me, your Honor, I scarcely see what bearing these questions have on the plain facts in the case.”

A slight frown was the only evidence that the judge had noted the impertinent suggestion that he did not know his business.

“Are you perfectly sure that you cherish no ill-will toward the prisoner?”

“I simply wish to do my duty by my employers.  I eventually learned that her father was an opium-eater and a sot, and I don’t fancy that kind of people.  That is my explanation,” he concluded, with a large attempt at dignity, and in a tone that he evidently meant all should hear.

“Her father is not on trial, and that information was uncalled for.  Have you any further testimony?” the judge asked coldly.

“No, sir,” and he stepped down amid a suppressed hiss in the court-room, for the spectators evidently shared in the antipathy with which he had inspired the keen-eyed but impassive and reticent magistrate, who now beckoned Mildred to step up close to him, and she came to him as if he were her friend instead of her judge.  He was touched by her trust; and her steadfast look of absolute confidence made him all the more desirous of protecting her, if he could find any warrant for doing so.  She said to him unmistakably by her manner, “I put myself in your hands.”

“My child,” the judge began seriously, yet kindly, “this is a very grave charge that is brought against you, and if it is your wish you can waive further trial before me at this stage of proceedings, for unless you can prove yourself innocent at this preliminary examination, your case must be heard before a higher court.  Perhaps you had better obtain counsel, and have the whole matter referred at once to the grand jury.”