"It's kind of you, but there's no getting the women away; they'll not make a scene," said Uncle Rob, huskily; he was thinking of Florence. "We've talked it over among ourselves, and I think it would alter your opinion if you could have heard my son-in-law this morning." "How do you know what my opinion is?" asked Lambert, in his most leisurely manner. "I _don't_ know. We couldn't help seeing the way the case was going, and if it could be done in a lawful and legal way, Reginald would not wait to be brought before a judge. He would go himself and say, 'What have you got against me? Here I am, ready to answer it.'" "But it can't be done that way. There's a settled form to go through, and we must abide by it. Well, I've given my advice, and it's a pity the ladies should be present, but if you say it can't be helped, well, it can't be, and there's an end of it. What do you think about giving them a hint beforehand. It'll break the shock." "Yes, I might do that," said Uncle Rob. He looked up into Lambert's face; he could do that, being the shorter man by two inches. He was well acquainted with Lambert's character, and knew that he was kindly disposed towards him, but there was so much more consideration evinced for his feelings than he could reasonably have expected that it seemed to him as if Lambert was keeping something in the background. Lambert returned his gaze steadily and impenetrably, and passed his hand over his chin with more than his customary thoughtfulness, but there was nothing in that action to enlighten Uncle Rob as to what was passing in his mind. Still he was emboldened to say, "Speaking as we are in confidence, is there anything behind this, Lambert, that would bring hope and comfort to my wife and daughter?" Lambert's hand travelled from his chin to his under lip, which he softly pinched as caressingly as if he were smoothing a favourite cat. "Why shouldn't she hope?" he said. "What's going to be done is only what might be expected. If her husband wasn't prepared for it of course it would be different, but as it is----" He seemed to think the uncompleted sentence sufficiently expressive, for he did not finish it. "You'll wait till the verdict's given?" said Uncle Rob. "I'll wait a reasonable time; I can't say more than that, because I shouldn't be surprised--and don't you be--if something happens that I can't call to mind has ever happened before in a murder inquest, and that is, that the jury will either give no verdict at all, or will give one that the Coroner will refuse to accept. There's a man among them who's bent upon having his own way, and that will stick out like grim death if he can't bring the others to his way of thinking. He's a kind of animal not often met with on juries, but there he is, and has to be reckoned with. A curious point, isn't it? But you can make up your mind to one thing. So far as justice is concerned there will be no dead lock. I've got hold of the reins, and I'll see to that."