Eliza brightened up, and officiously lighted Mr. Fauntleroy some paces down the street, in spite of the gas-lamp at the door, which shone well. "What a good humour the old lawyer's in!" quoth she. "I wonder what his business was? I heard him say something had arose in Carr and Carr." CHAPTER VIII. THE SECOND DAY. Tuesday morning dawned, and before nine o'clock the Nisi Prius court was more densely packed than on the preceding day: all Westerbury--at least, as many as could push in--were anxious to hear his lordship's summing up. At twenty-eight minutes after nine, the javelins of the sheriff's men appeared in the outer hall, ushering in the procession of the judges. The senior judge proceeded to the criminal court; the other, as on the Monday, took his place in the Nisi Prius. His lordship had his notes in his hand, and was turning to the jury, preparatory to entering on his task, when Mr. Serjeant Wrangle rose. "My lord--I must crave your lordship's permission to state a fact, bearing on the case, Carr versus Carr. An unexpected witness has arisen; a most important witness; one who will testify to the abstraction from the register; one who was present when that abstraction was made. Your lordship will allow him to be heard?" Serjeant Siftem, and Mynn and Mynn, and Squire Carr and his son Valentine, and all who espoused that side, looked contemptuous daggers of incredulity at Serjeant Wrangle. But the judge allowed the witness to be heard, for all that. He came forward; a remarkably handsome boy, at the stage between youth and manhood. The judge put his silver glasses across his nose and gazed at him: he thought he recognised those beautiful features. "Swear the witness," cried some official. The witness was sworn. "What is your name?" demanded Serjeant Wrangle. "Henry Cheveley Arkell." "Where do you reside?" "In Westerbury, near the cathedral." "You are a member of the college school and a chorister, are you not?" interposed the judge, whose remembrance had come to him. "A king's scholar, my lord, and senior chorister." "Were you in St. James's Church on a certain night of last November?" resumed Serjeant Wrangle. "Yes. On the twentieth." "For how long? And how came you to be there?" "I went in to practise on the organ, when afternoon school was over, and some one locked me in. I was there until nearly two in the morning." "Who locked you in?" "I did not know then. I afterwards heard that it was one of the senior boys." "Tell the jury what you saw." Henry Arkell, amidst the confused scene, so unfamiliar to him, wondered which was the jury. Not knowing, he stood as he had done before, looking alternately at the examining counsel and the judge. "I went to sleep on the singers' seat in the organ-gallery, and slept until a noise awoke me. I saw two people stealing up the church with a light; they turned into the vestry, and I went softly downstairs and followed them, and stood at the vestry door looking in."