CHAPTER XXXIV.
[GATHERING CLOUDS.]
"There's trouble coming, there's trouble coming." This was the dominant thought in Dick's mind as he emerged from the court. Reporters, hurriedly gathering their sheets of notes and sketches, were hastening to their respective offices, and persons who had been unable to obtain admission were eagerly asking for news of what had taken place. The jurymen filed out, with a judicial weight on their brows, and the man who had put and prompted so many questions gave Dick a searching look as he passed. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Remington," said a cheery interviewer, "I belong to 'The Hourly Inquirer,' and if you would give me a few minutes----" "No time for interviewing--nothing to say," interrupted Dick, and hurried on. Of which the interviewer made a quarter of a column. Dick was not in the mood to impart information or impressions; he had more serious matters to think of. It seemed to him as though sinister forces were at work inimical to Florence and Reginald. "I wonder," he thought, "what kind of evidence Lady Wharton has to give--she seems terribly in earnest."
Clear of the crowd he felt a light touch upon his arm; looking down he saw it was Florence.
"Reginald sent me," she said; "he is very anxious. Is it over?"
"Not by a long way," he replied. "People are staring at us. Let us walk on."
"What has been done, Dick?"
"Evidence of identification has been taken, and a lot of stupid and unnecessary questions asked. You will read all about it in the papers, one part true, and three parts fiction." He spoke with a light air to relieve her mind. "Reporters make the most of everything; it is their business to lay on colour pretty thickly. There is one rather vexatious thing--your visit to Catchpole Square on the night of the fog."
"Has my name been mentioned?" asked Florence, in alarm.
"No, but it may be, and we must consider what we ought to do. Don't look distressed; a straightforward explanation will set it right. Docs Uncle Rob know you went there?"