about that Ross; why wouldn't he take
advice! I know the regular jeremiad. And the
sensible friends will lay their heads together.
Confound those mule-headed jurors!" he said,
starting up; "can't they settle a simple case
like that? And yet they can sell a horse, and
weigh their meal, infernal dunder-headed crew!
I never saw such a collection of oafs. I knew
how it would be when they came into the box.
But, I give you notice, it shan't stop here! Don't
think it. I'll begin it all, all again. And I
shan't be done. I shan't wait here any longer."
And, drinking off a tumbler of wine, he went
out of the room.

He left them sitting in silence and looking at
each other. Mrs. Tilney tossed her head.

"He is really getting like a man possessed,"
she said.

"He is excited," said Mr. Tilney.
"Surprising! Yet I declare, when I went up into that
box to-day, I just felt as if I were going in to
dinner—twenty-two, you know, and the Chief
Justice there sitting at the head."

"We must make allowance for him," said
Mr. Tillotson, gently, "at this particular
moment. He is naturally excited."

"But," said Mrs. Tilney, "we have always to
be making allowances. He is always the same
rude, unbearable creature that you see him
tonight; to myself I can only say that he is
unvaryingly rude—rude."

An hour went by. Ross came back, tired,
jaded, with a sort of hopelessness in his face.
Mrs. Tilney read it off, and started up.

"There! He has lost!" she cried. "I told
you so; I always said so."

"Hush!" said Mr. Tillotson, authoritatively.
"They have not 'found' yet, I am sure. Is it
not so?"

"Your superior divination," said Ross, " has
hit it off. That old woman who tried it has
just called them out, and they say there are
some of them won't agree, and he wants to
discharge them. The infernal old ass wants to
go home and drink his claret, and go to bed
after his debauch; but Cobham, who is good
for something, has made him send them back
for an hour or two. I hope to God he'll make
him lock 'em all up for the night without fire
or candles, and starve their fat carcases into
common sense! I'd like to give 'em a lesson
all round that they wouldn't forget in a
hurry!"

He was almost savage with vexation and
suspense. Mr. Tillotson had gone away.
Another hour passed by, then half an hour.
Suddenly they heard wheels. They rushed to the
window. It was the dean's carriage passing
by.

"It's only that apostle Ridley coming home
gorged! 'Blessed are the poor in spirit.' You
have a nice pack of drones down here, haven't
you? There's one just gone home to the
hive."

"Where's Mr. Tillotson, Augusta?" said
Mrs. Tilney. "Was he to come back?"

"He's in his bed, of course," said Ross,
"tucked in like a precise puritan as he is. What's
the fancy you have all taken to that fellow?
Any one that knew anything of the world
would see he was nothing but a common city
prig!"

Mrs. Tilney did not answer.

("I hold," she had always said to her friends,
"as little communication as I can with him.")

Wheels again.

"There!" said Ross. "More drones for the
hive. Why don't you all get up and rush to the
window?"

But the wheels did not pass the window.
A cab had stopped at the little green gate.
There was a quick patter of steps on the gravel
of the little walk. There were voices—voices
of the solicitor and Mr. Cobham. Mr. Tillotson,
opening the door, had rushed in with a
radiant face—a face of real joy and satisfaction.

"It is all safe!" he cried. "You have
gained! The jury has behaved nobly! They have
found for you!"

The whole family fell into a sort of tumult.
They forgot their conventional restraint before
company, and uttered a cry of joy.

Ross stood in the middle looking round with
exulting eyes, and for a moment without speaking.

"Ah! What did I tell you?" he said. "What
did I always say? Do me justice now, at least.
Who shall say the bold game isn't the best—
eh? Who has the best eyes and the best wit—
eh?"

"Indeed, William, we were all wrong," said
Mrs. Tilney, obsequiously.

"It is wonderful," said Mr. Tillotson, almost
with enthusiasm; "and I am really so glad.
I congratulate you again and again, Mr.
Ross."

"Thank you," said the other, with some
softness; "I am obliged to you."

"And where is Miss Ada?" said Mr.
Tillotson. " We must tell her. Ah! here she
is."

She came gliding softly in, without sound
almost. She read the good news in all their
faces. She went up to the centre figure; the
yellow hair and the calm soft face beneath it
were lit up as with a saint's glory.

"Dear, dear William, I am so happy!" she
said.

"My lodgings are not far from here," said
Mr. Cobham, "so I thought I would look in and
let you know. Very glad indeed—very."

"You did wonders, sir, professionally," said
Mr. Tilney, complimentarily. "You laboured
through the dust and the heats. We owe it
all to you, sir, and I think a little to my testimony
in that box."

"And to some other little help too," said Mr.
Cobham, smiling. "Mr. Ross, just one word
outside here."

They both walked out—down the path to
the little gate. It was a calm night. The
cathedral rose before them like a great Head on
a shore, with a cold blue waste behind it.