"
"Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?"
"_Not guilty_."
It must have been full a minute, as I leant back clutching the rail
in front of me, before I saw anything but the bleared eyes of the
candles, or heard anything but a hoarse murmur from the crowd.
But as soon as the court ceased to heave, and I could stare about me,
I looked towards my counsel again.
He was still shaping his pen. He made no motion to come forward and
shake hands over my acquittal, for which he had worked untiringly all
day. He did not even offer to speak. He just looked up, nodded
carelessly, and turned to his junior beside him; but in that glance I
had read something which turned my heart cold, then sick, within me,
and from that moment my hatred of the man was as deep as hell.
In the fog outside I got clear of the gaping crowd, but the chill of
the night after that heated court pierced my very bones. I had on
the clothes I had been taken in. It was June then, and now it was
late in October. I remember that on the day when they caught me I
wore my coat open for coolness. Four months and a half had gone out
of my life. Well, I had money enough in my pocket to get a
greatcoat; but I must put something warm inside me first, to get out
the chill that cursed lawyer had laid on my heart.
I had purposely chosen the by-lanes of the town, but I remembered a
certain tavern--the "Lamb and Flag"--which lay down a side alley.
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