"Yes, you did," said Uncle Rob, and accustomed as he ought to have been, as an inspector of police, to strange surprises, there was a flutter at his heart. But then it was a beloved daughter's happiness that was at stake. "I promised to give you timely notice," continued Lambert, "when something was going to happen." "Yes." "I never go from my word. Something _is_ going to happen. I'm only waiting here till the verdict's given, and then----" "And then?" "Your son-in-law's in Court, facing it like a man," said Lambert, branching off, "and I admire him for it. Supposing the verdict runs, 'some person or persons unknown,' he'll be coming out with the ladies on his way home when the sheet's signed." "Yes, he will; and if it runs the other way?" "Meaning if it's brought against him by name?" "Yes." "Well, then, of course he'll be prepared." "He's prepared for anything, Lambert; he's made up his mind to it: so have we all." Uncle Rob spoke in a sad tone; these two men perfectly understood each other, though the meaning of what they said would not have been clear to a stranger. "Step aside, Robson," said Lambert, and his voice was friendly, "and let us talk as if it was the weather we were interested in. Cloudy to-day, fine to-morrow; there's no telling what changes to expect in such a blessed climate as ours. So it is with human nature; up to-day, down to-morrow, and the other way round. All's well that ends well, eh?" "Yes," said Uncle Rob, mechanically. "Prepared for anything he is," Lambert went on. "I call that sensible and manly; but he's been that all through. So what I say is, to save a scene, wouldn't it be a good thing to get your wife and daughter out of the way?" "How?" "Well, by letting them go home by themselves. When two women are together like that, with trouble ahead, they're a comfort to each other. They must be tired out of their lives sitting in that stuffy court all day. A pair of bricks I call them; I should be proud, I should indeed, Robson, if they were my wife and daughter. Proud you must be of them--in a melancholy way, as things are, but that's natural under the circumstances. Wheedle them home, Robson, and let us get the business over quietly." Uncle Rob knew what was meant by "the business." "It's decided upon, then," he said. "Yes, and I've got the warrant in my pocket." "Whatever the verdict is?" "Whatever the verdict is." "Is there anything against him," asked Uncle Rob, with a sinking heart, "beyond what has come out in the inquest?" "Nothing; but that is supposed to be enough to commence with. Get the ladies away quietly, just whisper a word to him, and we'll walk along as comfortably as possible, and no one the wiser. I've kept it snug on purpose for your sake."