A small knot of policemen stood outside Q— Police-Court. They chatted and talked one to another, now and then alluding to the different cases to be tried that day, now and then dwelling on the ordinary topics of the times, now and then, too, speaking to a companion of home interests, and home, and personal hopes and fears.
For these stalwart-looking myrmidons of the law are just human beings like the rest of mankind, and they are quite capable now and then even of feeling and showing pity for a prisoner.
“Any cases of interest coming on to-day?” asked a young policeman of constable 21 B.
“Nothing of moment—a few thefts committed on the Derby Day. By the way, I have just brought in the drollest figure of a child to appear as witness in one of these cases.”
Just then a little woman in a black dress, black, tight-fitting bonnet, and black veil, came up timidly to the constable and asked if she might see the trials.
“Certainly, missis; you have nothing to do but to walk in. Stay, I will show you the way to the court. May I ask if there is hany particular case as you is wanting to hear?”
“Not—not—that is, I am not a witness,” replied the little woman, whose lips trembled. “I have a curiosity to see the proceedings.”
“Well, ma’am, the affairs coming on are mostly hacts of robbery committed on the Derby day—but some of them may interest you. Walk this way, ma’am,” and the constable preceded the little woman into the court.
“There,” he said kindly, seeing that for some reason she appeared a good deal either upset or excited, “you need not stand where the crowd are, you may go up and seat yourself on that bench where the witnesses be. You’ll be more quiet and comfortable hup there, and will see heverything.”
“Thank you,” replied the little woman, and she placed herself on the extreme edge of the witnesses’ bench.