"Surprised, sir. Shook his head and made some queer gestures, then went
through his pantomime. It's quite a spectacle, sir. Poor fool, he keeps
holding his hand back, so."

Mr. Gryce noted the gesture; it was the same which Bartow had made when
he first realized that he had spectators. Its meaning was not wholly
apparent. He had made it with his right hand (there was no evidence that
the mute was left-handed), and he continued to make it as if with this
movement he expected to call attention to some fact that would relieve
him from custody.

"Does he mope? Is his expression one of fear or anger?"

"It varies, sir. One minute he looks like a man on the point of falling
asleep; the next he starts up in fury, shaking his head and pounding the
walls. It's not a comfortable sight, sir. He will have to be watched
night and day."

"Let him be, and note every change in him. His testimony may not be
valid, but there is suggestion in every movement he makes. To-morrow I
will visit him myself."

The officer went out, and Mr. Gryce sat for a few moments communing with
himself, during which he took out a little package from his pocket, and
emptying out on his desk the five little spangles it contained, regarded
them intently. He had always been fond of looking at some small and
seemingly insignificant object while thinking. It served to concentrate
his thoughts, no doubt. At all events, some such result appeared to
follow the contemplation of these five sequins, for after shaking his