AT THE BAR.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "A CRUISE UPON WHEELS," &C. &C.

CHAPTER XXXVI. THE MISTS BEGIN TO CLEAR
AWAY.

WE have got to the last stage of all, and the
end draws very near.

In the last chapter we left all that great
concourse of persons who were assembled in the
court-house of the Old Bailey to witness the
trial of Gabrielle Penmore, waiting anxiously
till they should hear what was about to be said
by him on whom the duty devolved of balancing
one against the other those two theories which
had been laid before the court, one of which
assumed the guilt and the other the innocence
of the Prisoner at the Bar. The relative worth
of these, the degree of credit of which each was
worthy, and by which of the two arguments the
jury were to be influenced in coming to their
final decision, it was now the judge's work to
decide.

"In the course of all the long years during
which I have exercised the office of judge," the
old man said, "no case has ever come before
me similar to this in strength of evidence on
both sides, or in which each has seemed to
preponderate in its turn with such an
overwhelming force. That for the prosecution, as
it was developed before us, step by step, and
point by point, seemed gradually to shut up, one
by one, each avenue of escape by which the
accused might have hoped to pass, until at last
there came to be amassed against her such an
accumulated load of testimony as made it appear
an impossible thing that she should ever emerge
from under so overwhelming a structure. Such
was the effect of the evidence which was brought
forward to support the prosecution. It was
almost conclusive, as convincing probably as
circumstantial evidence ever can be. And yet no
sooner had the counsel for the defence put
forward his view of the case, than it became evident
that there was still one loophole left by which
escape was yet attainable for the accused, one
avenue by which it was possible for her to pass
forth into the light unhindered and unhurt—if
only it could be shown that the way along that
avenue was clear and unencumbered."

And with that the old judge proceeded to pass
in review all the evidence which had been
taken in court during these two days. He went
through it all with the utmost care and completeness, commenting on the testimony of each
witness in its turn with infinite clearness and
perspicuity. Those few words which he had
spoken, to begin with, formed, so to speak, the
text which he now went on to illustrate more
fully. The reader will conceive with what
attention he was listened to, as he thus examined
all that had been put forward by the different
witnesses. To two persons in that court each
word that fell from the old man's lips was
indeed of awful import. Throughout this trial
there had been something of comfort to Gabrielle
in the thought that her cause was in such hands
as those of the old judge, and that her life was
in his keeping. She had felt throughout a sort
of trust in him, together with something of
reverence, which had even made her try to stand
when first he began to speak; an attempt which
had soon, however, been abandoned, as her
forces had quickly given away.

At first, and as the evidence for the prosecution
was passing under the judge's consideration,
it seemed to Gabrielle that this one in whom
she had trusted had turned against her, so
completely did he do justice to the evidence,
showing how strong it was, how full, how
convincing. It made her tremble to hear him
admit this: it had never appeared to her before
how powerful, how almost impregnable, the case
was against her; what a mass of damning proof
the accusers were possessed of. What was
this righteous judge doing? He seemed to be
accumulating evidence against her. Did he
think her guilty in his heart? Did his sense of
justice compel him to condemn her?

It was indeed a terrible moment. More than
half a century of law-study had taught this gentleman
to know what evidence was, to understand
it fully, and estimate it truly, whether in its
strength or in its weakness, and therefore it was
that he was able to appreciate the full force of
this evidence against Gabrielle Penmore—
which, indeed, the reader will admit, was most
strong—and to put it before those who
listened to him with an extraordinary force and
clearness. So much for the prosecution. But
when at last the time came for considering
what might be said on the other side, and the
evidence for the defence came to be reviewed in
its turn, then men saw that all that proof which