"Come along with us," whispered Bertinshaw, "and we'll celebrate your escape over a bottle of wine at my place."
"No—not now," replied Tom, hastily: "I mean to stay and hear this case: it interests me."
"Will you join us presently?" asked his new friend, who had just now pretended to be a very old one.
"Yes, yes," answered Tom: "in an hour or so."
Bertinshaw and Watkins then took their departure.
"Now, Bingham," cried the clerk; "what is it?"
At that moment a gentleman of handsome appearance and middle age entered the court.
"Here's the prosecutor who will explain the matter," said the officer.
The prisoner, suddenly remembering the respect due to the bench, raised her veil; and, at the same time, she glanced in an eager, inquiring manner towards the individual who now appeared against her.
But we must pause to describe her.