The magistrate was impressed. He took up the slip of paper and read what was written thereon. Then he was guilty of a start. The next instant he had the prosecutor up beside him and then the advocate. Together they read the message from the outside and together they lifted three pairs of incredulous eyes to stare at the culprits below. There was a hurried consultation in excited whisperings, intermittent stares and far from magisterial blinkings.
Robin bent close to Bedelia's ear and whispered: "We must have killed some one, the way they are acting."
Her face was glowing with triumph. "No. Luck is with us, Mr. Schmidt. You'll see!"
The magistrate cleared his throat and beamed upon them in a most friendly fashion.
Robin grasped the situation in a flash. His own identity had been revealed to the Judge. It was not likely that the daughter of William Blithers could create such lively interest in a French court of justice, so it must be that Gourou or Quinnox had come to the rescue. The court would not think of fining a prince of the royal blood, law or no law!
"M'sieur, Mademoiselle, will you be so good as to resume your seats? An extraordinary condition has arisen. I shall be obliged to investigate. The trial must be interrupted for a few minutes. Pardon the delay. I shall return as quickly as possible. Sergent! See that Mademoiselle and M'sieur are made comfortable."
He descended from the bench and hurried into the corridor, followed closely by the prosecutor and the advocate, both of whom almost trod on his heels. This may have been due to the fact that they were slighter men and more sprightly, but more than likely it was because they were unable to see where they were going for the excellent reason that they were not looking in that direction at all.
Policemen and attendants, mystified but impressed, set about to make the culprits comfortable. They hustled at least a half dozen roomy chairs out of an adjoining chamber; they procured palm-leaf fans and even proffered the improbable—ice-water!—after which they betook themselves to a remote corner and whispered excitedly at each other, all the while regarding the two prisoners with intense interest. Even the despairing footman and chauffeur exhibited unmistakable signs of life.
"I fancy my friends have heard of our plight, Mr. Schmidt," she said, quite composedly. "We will be released in a very few minutes."
He smiled complacently. He could afford to let her believe that her friends and not his were performing a miracle.