The crowd grew pale in the intensity of their excitement and suspense, and the jury were rising to leave the box, when a loud noise was heard at the entrance of the court, and a smooth-faced, commonplace-looking man was seen to push his way through the throng, followed by a dark, sinister-looking man, who, as he advanced, looked from right to left in a furtive, half-suspicious, half-frightened way.
“McAndrew!” muttered Mr. Sewell; “where on earth has he been, and what is he doing? We have got a conviction!”
McAndrew—for it was he—went straight for Mr. Sewell, and whispered to him, and an eager dispute followed between them.
“Eh?” then said Mr. Sewell. “Oh, if you like, I don’t care!”
Then he looked up to the bench.
“My lord, the only desire of the Crown is that the truth of this matter should be made apparent. I call Seth Lee!”
The judge looked and frowned, and held up his hand.
“You may call him,” he said.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
A FORGERY.
Seth glided into the box, and stood with his eyes fixed upon Mr. McAndrew, as if he looked to him for guidance and protection. McAndrew, close to Mr. Sewell’s elbow, whispered his instructions, and that eminent counsel, evidently struggling against an overwhelming astonishment not unmingled with a certain professional indignation, addressing the judge, said: