"Dinna ye fash yersel', laddie! I hae na the least intention to remaund the accused. I s'all commit them for trial," said the magistrate. Then looking down upon his clerk, he said:
"Ross, mon, mak' out the warrants."
A perfect storm of remonstrance, strange to witness in a magistrate's office, arose. The lawyer sprang upon his feet and vehemently opposed the committal. Lord Vincent indignantly exclaimed against the outrage of sending a nobleman of the house of Hurstmonceux to trial. Faustina went into hysterics, and was attended by Mrs. MacDonald.
Meanwhile the clerk coolly made out the warrants and placed them in the hands of McRae for execution. That prompt policeman proceeded to take possession of his prisoners. But the storm increased; Faustina's screams awoke the welkin; Lord Vincent's loud denunciation accompanied her in bass keys; the lawyer's wild expostulations and gesticulations arose above all.
Sir Alexander had borne all this tempestuous opposition very patiently at first; but the patience of the most long-suffering man may give out. Sir Alexander's did.
"McRae, remove the prisoners. And, laddie," he said to the denunciatory lawyer, "gin ye dinna haud your tongue, I'll commit yoursel' for contempt!"
Lord Vincent, seeing that all opposition must be worse than vain, quietly yielded the point and followed his conductor. But Faustina's animal nature got the ascendency, and she resisted, fought and screamed like a wildcat. It took half a dozen policemen to put her into the carriage, and then the handcuffs had to be put on her.
As soon as quiet was restored another case was called on. It was that of Frisbie, the ex-valet, charged with the murder of Ailsie Dunbar.