in the well. But the man in front with the very white hair--the man who
was always watching the prisoner at the bar--there was about as much
expression of opinion upon his firm, bare face as might be seen through
the sable thickness of her widow's veil.

It was the same next day, when, for some five hours out of a possible
five and a half, the attention of the court was concentrated upon a
point of obviously secondary significance. It was suggested by the
defence that the watch and chain found up the study chimney were not
those worn by the deceased at the time he met his death. The contention
was supported by photographs of Alexander Minchin wearing a watch-chain
that might or might not be of another pattern altogether; expert
opinions were divided on the point; and experts in chains as well as in
photography were eventually called by both sides. Interesting in the
beginning, the point was raised and raised again, and on subsequent
days, until all were weary of the sight of the huge photographic
enlargements, which were handed about the court upon each occasion. Even
the prisoner would droop in her chair when the "chain photograph" was
demanded for the twentieth time by her own unflagging counsel; even the
judge became all but inattentive on the point, before it was finally
dropped on an intimation from the jury that they had made up their minds
about the chains; but no trace of boredom had crossed the keen, alert
face of the unknown gentleman with the snowy hair.

So the case was fought for Mrs. Minchin, tooth and nail indeed, yet
perhaps with more asperity than conviction, and certainly at times upon
points which were hardly worth the fighting. Yet, on the Friday
afternoon, when her counsel at last played his masterstroke, and,
taking advantage of the then new Act, put the prisoner herself in the
witness-box, it was done with the air of a man who is throwing up his