The weakest point in this ingenious fabrication was the prisoner's failure to communicate with the owner of the diamonds during the ensuing five months. This, and other discrepancies, having been easily laid bare on cross-examination, a verdict of guilty was quickly rendered. The judge had hardly uttered the usual query whether the prisoner was known, before an alert police inspector replied, "He is an international swindler, well-known all over the Continent, wanted in Berlin for a job of 20,000 marks, in Paris for another of 30,000 francs and elsewhere." _Judge_: "Suppose we give him a few months and allow the foreign police to apply for extradition?" _Inspector_: "Well, Your Lordship, the trouble is that he claims to have been born in Paris of English parents and that he is, therefore, a British subject, and the French police will jolly well accept his statement." _Judge_: "That's very awkward. We'll give him twelve calendar months and see what transpires." CHAPTER XIII AN IMPORTANT MURDER TRIAL Amongst the murder trials on the "Calendar of Prisoners" appeared "No 38; Madar Lal Dhingra, 25, Student, wilful murder of Sir William Hutt Curzon Wyllie and Dr. Cowas Lalcaca." This referred to the cowardly assassination of an English gentleman who had devoted his life to Indian administration and to benefiting the native races of that country, and to the murder of an Indian doctor, who lost his life in an effort to save him. The tragedy, the news of which had profoundly shocked the world less than three weeks before, occurred during an evening reception at the Imperial Institute. The prisoner, a fanatical Indian student, was believed to have borne no personal animosity to his victim. No one knew exactly when the case would be reached, but it had been expected for several days when, one morning, the Old Bailey, in view of a possible disturbance by Indian sympathizers, was found to be carefully guarded by detectives. Except a small audience admitted by cards which were doubtless hard to procure and not transferable, the public, clamoring at the doors, were excluded from the Court, although one American lady, who appeared in one of the back seats, seemed to have had information and influence necessary to gain an entrée. The barristers' benches, however, were so full that there was an unusual array of bewigged heads on that side of the court. The jury, already in place, and the small audience, waited in quiet but tense expectation. While one was idly noting the usual dried herbs and rose leaves on the desks and carpet of the judges' dais, the Lord Chief Justice seated himself and rolled his chair forward, a shaft of soft sun rays from the skylight accentuating his scarlet robe. The sheriffs bowed and took their seats at the side, and Dhingra's name was called.