"And you think that something of the sort may have happened in this case?"

"Had you been on the jury, what would have been your verdict?"

"Guilty."

"Had I been on the jury, what would have been my verdict? Despite my firm conviction that Layton is an innocent man, I should have brought him in guilty. It was not my opinion I had to be guided by, it was the evidence and the evidence in Layton's case, as it was presented to the court and appears in the papers, indisputably proclaims him to be a guilty man. Again, when the verdict was pronounced I watched his face; again I saw there a startled look of wonder and astonishment; to his own mind the evidence against him was conclusive. Then it was that I observed him for the first time gaze upon the jury with some kind of interest and attention. Not once during the trial had he looked at them in any but a casual way, and I should not be surprised to learn that he was ignorant of their names. This is most unusual. Ordinarily a prisoner pays great attention to the jury upon whose verdict his fate hangs. He gazes upon them with deepest anxiety, he notes every change in their countenances, is despondent when he believes it to be against him, is hopeful when he 'believes it to be in his favor. Not so with Layton. When the jury were empanelled, and their names called over, he paid not the slightest attention to them he did not turn his eyes towards them; he might have been both deaf and blind for all the interest he evinced."

"Perhaps you are not aware," said the doctor, "that he is very short-sighted, and that without his glasses it would have been impossible for him to distinguish their features."

"I am quite aware of it," said the lawyer "but he had his glasses hanging round his neck, and it is remarkable that not once during the trial did he put them to his eyes. I have here," and the lawyer tapped his pocket-book, "a list of the names, social standing, and businesses or professions of the jurymen engaged on this Layton mystery. As regards only one of them is my information incomplete. I know their ages, whether they are married or single, whether they have families, etc. I know something more--I know the name of the one man who would not subscribe to the verdict of guilty which the other eleven, almost without leaving the box, were ready to pronounce. Curiously enough, this dissentient is the person respecting whom I have not yet complete particulars. I am acquainted with his name, but have not been supplied with his address. I shall, however, obtain it easily, if I require it."

"What is his name?" asked Dr. Daincourt.

"James Rutland," replied the lawyer.

At this moment there was a knock at the door, and a man-servant made his appearance.

"A telegraph lad, sir," said the servant, "has brought this message, and is waiting to know whether it is correct, and whether there is any answer. He says he has been to your rooms in the Temple, and was directed on here to your private address, the instructions being that the message was to be delivered immediately, either at your professional or private residence."