Constance felt her colour deepen. She bent her face over the exercise she was correcting. “Is he likely to be cleared of the charge?” perseveringly resumed Lady Augusta. “Not by actual proof, I fear,” answered Constance, pressing her hand upon her brow as she remembered that he could only be proved innocent by another’s being proved guilty. “The note seems to have been lost in so very mysterious a manner, that positive proof of his innocence will be difficult.” “Well, it is a dreadful thing!” concluded Lady Augusta. Meanwhile, at the very moment her ladyship was speaking, the magistrates were in the town-hall in full conclave--the case before them. The news had spread--had excited interest far and wide; the bench was crowded, and the court was one dense sea of heads. Arthur appeared, escorted by his brother Hamish and by Roland Yorke. Roland was in high feather, throwing his haughty glances everywhere, for he had an inkling of what was to be the termination of the affair, and did not conceal his triumph. Mr. Galloway also was of their party. Mr. Galloway was the first witness put forth by Mr. Butterby. The latter gentleman was in high feather also, believing he saw his way clear to a triumphant conviction. Mr. Galloway was questioned; and for some minutes it all went on swimmingly. “On the afternoon of the loss, before you closed your letter, who were in your office?” “My clerks--Roland Yorke and Arthur Channing.” “They saw the letter, I believe?” “They did.” “And the bank-note?” “Most probably.” “It was the prisoner, Arthur Channing, who fetched the bank-note from your private room to the other? Did he see you put it into the letter?” “I cannot say.” A halt. “But he was in full possession of his eyes just then?” “No doubt he was.” “Then what should hinder his seeing you put the note into the letter?” “I will not swear that I put the note into the letter.” The magistrates pricked up their ears. Mr. Butterby pricked up his, and looked at the witness. “What do you say?” “I will not swear that I put the bank-note inside the letter,” deliberately repeated Mr. Galloway. “Not swear that you put the bank-note into the letter? What is it that you mean?” “The meaning is plain enough,” replied Mr. Galloway, calmly. “Must I repeat it for the third time? I will not swear that I put the note into the letter.” “But your instructions to me were that you did put the note into the letter,” cried Mr. Butterby, interrupting the examination. “I will not swear it,” reiterated the witness. “Then there’s an end of the case!” exclaimed the magistrates’ clerk, in some choler. “What on earth was the time of the bench taken up for in bringing it here?” And there _was_ an end of the case--at any rate for the present--for nothing more satisfactory could be got out of Mr. Galloway. “I have been checkmated,” ejaculated the angry Butterby.