None had foreseen the cruel, terrible, yet melodramatic climax to which the advocate was leading; and when it came over the minds of those present, all of whom in the course of the speech, even the most hardened officers of the court, the ushers, the chaplain, the javelin men, and the newspaper reporters, had passed in one form or another through all the anguish of the spirit of which they were capable, pity and horror were mingled with their overwrought surprise. As the advocate stood with his huge and livid face turned upwards towards the judge, with an ineffable emotion suffusing it, and the old man, with tears dripping quickly on to his ermine, put his two fat, white hands before his eyes, a feeling of silence and terror seemed to pervade the court. The advocate sat down with parched lips. The hush that ensued was so long that it seemed it would never come to an end. It was broken by a commotion among the public benches. A woman who had fainted was being carried out at the back of the court. The incident served to unloose the electricity which was pent up in the atmosphere. A voice from the solicitor’s well was heard to pronounce the word “Shame!” In an instant it was answered by the multitude with a volley of the wildest cheers that was ever heard in a court of justice. All the ragged, tattered, despised, broken and rejected units of the population, those humble, hungry, and inarticulate creatures upon whom Jesus himself had wrought his magic, upon whom he had depended for countenance, took up the challenge, and with their wild and hoarse cries flung it back upon him who had uttered it. For a time the scene was one of consternation. The judge was but a poor, senile, old man, from whom the tears were leaping. Every official looked towards him for his prop and stay, but all there was to see was feeble and inept old age. The Clerk of Arraigns, as pale as a ghost and trembling violently, was spreading his hands before an alderman. Policemen stood dismayed, and officers of the court, who had grown old and despotic in its service, looked towards one another helplessly, seeking for that authority which none had the power to exercise. “I never thought,” said the companion of the fat barrister, “we should come to this in England. It is a disgrace to English justice. That fellow must be brought before the general council. They must take away his wig and gown.” “A little less prejudice and a little more appreciation, dear boy,” said the fat barrister, wiping his eyes stealthily. “That lad will be a peer of the realm long before they make you a stipendiary.” “He is either the greatest madman or the greatest genius who was ever called to the bar.” “Probably both, dear boy.” XXVIII THE SUMMING UP The barrister who had ventured to give a public expression to his opinion was that nursling of wealth, the youthful ex-president of the Oxford Union.