Shyness is not one of my virtues, but I must acknowledge that I felt a trifle self-conscious as I marched into court for the second time under the wing of Inspector Neil. Apart from my recently acquired newspaper fame, which was embarrassing enough in itself, I was called on to face the eyes of practically every soul with whom I had been on speaking terms during the past ten days.
My first glance round the court showed me that the Ashton party was there en bloc. I caught sight of the white, startled face of poor Aunt Mary; the apoplectic countenance of Sir George Vane; and a few seats away the gracious and beautifully dressed figure of Lady Baradell, leaning forward, her eyes fixed on mine with a kind of passionate curiosity. Of Billy or Mercia I could see nothing.
As before, the loud buzz of excited conversation that broke out on my appearance was at once checked by the clerk. His call for order was endorsed by the magistrate, who, looking sharply round the building, observed with chilling disapproval, "If the public present are unable to behave themselves, I shall clear the court."
This threat had the desired effect. A complete and impressive silence at once descended upon everyone, broken only by the rising of a sombre-looking gentleman whom I took to be the counsel for the police.
"I am instructed to apply for a further remand, sir," he observed, addressing the magistrate. "The case for the police is still some way from complete."
The magistrate turned politely to my eminent counsellor.
"Have you anything to say in the matter, Mr. Gordon?"
Mr. Gordon rose briskly to his feet, and a little shiver of excitement ran through the court.
"If the police ask for a remand in the interests of justice," he began, "we have no objection to offer. To remove any misunderstanding, however, I wish to state that my client has a complete answer to the altogether unfounded charge that has been brought against him. We are ready to assist the police in any inquiries they may be making."
Again the eager murmur of conversation broke out, and I caught a glimpse of Maurice's face, white and savage, staring up at the impassive Gordon.