The fair girl looked wan, thin, and sad, her recent bereavement having worn heavily upon her. But there was a spot of scarlet upon each cheek, called there by the excitement of the moment, while there was also a gleam of mingled indignation and determination in her beautiful blue eyes, which bespoke some high purpose in view.
Gerald half-started from his seat as he saw her enter the court-room, then a swift, hot flush mounted to his forehead, and he sank back with averted face and painfully compressed lips. As Allison went swiftly across the room her eyes met those of John Hubbard, who sprang to his feet, repressing an oath, and hurried forward to meet her, while the judge paused in surprise at the strange interruption.
“Are you Gerald’s counsel?” Allison questioned excitedly, as her guardian came to her side.
“No,” he said briefly, then added, in a tone of displeasure, “but why are you here? This is no place for you.”
“Who is his lawyer, then?” she demanded, without heeding his objection to her presence.
“No one whom you know; but the case is almost concluded—the judge is about to address the jury. Come, let me take you out.”
“Will Gerald be acquitted?” queried Allison, anxiously.
“I—I cannot say,” the man faltered, his glance wavering before her. “But, come now.”
“No, not until I know how this case is going,” said Allison sharply. “Oh, why did you not tell me about it? I never knew a word of it until an hour ago, when I went to the bank to get something that belonged to papa, which I wanted very much, and Mr. Whipple told me what was going on here.”