Everybody expected to see Mr. Pollard rise, state to the Bench what had happened, and make a suggestion as to the course to be pursued.
Presently there was a move, and the chief constable made a private communication to the stipendiary.
Mr. Welby left his seat and went out, followed by Mr. Overend and Mr. Rogers.
Then Mr. Clegg, and next Mr. Pollard, were called out. For five or ten minutes there was nothing to do but look round and speculate.
There is but one female in court. How is this? Is female curiosity defunct? Don’t the ladies want to see Peace and the woman whose name has been so unhappily mixed up with his, and who may be regarded as one of his victims?
No doubt they do. Never was female curiosity more lively, and this morning there were many early breakfasts, and there was a decided resolution, to be in time.
Soon after nine o’clock, quite a bevy of ladies had made their way into the police offices, never doubting that their potent claims would carry them into the court, and secure them the gratification they longed for.
It was a painful duty for the chief constable to make the ladies aware that the examination of the day was likely to take a very delicate turn indeed—so delicate that the presiding magistrate would have to point out to any ladies who might be present the propriety of retiring.
I will not undertake to say that there were not applicants who could have run the risks of all this, but the case was to put to the group so plainly as to induce them all to retire.
But, as I have said, there was one woman in court and the whisper went round “That is Mrs. Dyson.”