Chapter Eighteen.
Hanging by a thread.
“Stop that!” shouted the judge, springing to his feet. The Cornishman stood quite unmoved.
There was silence directly, and the dark man went on. “Gentlemen,” he cried, “we have made this a court of justice, and you chose me the other day, being an English barrister, to act as judge.”
“Yes, yes,” came in a fierce shout, which crushed down some murmurs of opposition. “Go on, judge—go on.”
“I will, gentlemen, till you bring forward another man to take my place. Once more, we are here on British ground.”
“No, no,” came from the minority; “American.”
“British, gentlemen; and as subjects of her Majesty the Empress-Queen we stand by law and order.”
“Hear, hear!” was shouted.