Still, this was only a passing thought, and he steeled his heart against the worst. When the case had dragged on for some time, Paul noticed that there was a flutter in the court. A man he had not hitherto seen came in and took his place beside the junior counsel for the prosecution. He heard a whisper go round the court, "There's Bolitho." And Paul's eyes were drawn to him as if by magic. There was something in the face that held his attention, fascinated him. He found his heart beating faster than was its wont and his muscles contracting as if he were about to meet an enemy. For the moment he forgot the reason why he was brought there, so keenly intent was he on examining the face of the barrister who had just come in. And yet it was not a face to be feared. It was somewhat florid, and certainly pleasant to look upon. His eyes were blue and had a somewhat dreamy expression in them, while the features suggested gentleness rather than harshness. A handsome man was this Mr. Bolitho, a man who looked as though he might have many friends. The counsel all round smiled at him, while the magistrate nodded benignly. He seemed to create an air of pleasantness. He relieved the somewhat sordid atmosphere which pervaded the chamber. How much time he had given to the case it was impossible to say, but, certainly, when he rose to cross-examine, he seemed to know every detail of it. Presently the examination came to an end, and Mr. Bolitho rose to address the jury for the prosecution. In a way which Paul could not quite comprehend, and yet which seemed perfectly reasonable as he did it, he laid the whole blame for the trouble at Paul's door. It was his that had been the master mind. It was he who was guilty of inciting these ignorant, thoughtless youths to the act which had ended almost fatally for three men. He dragged in the quarrel which Paul had had with the son of Mr. Wilson, the owner of the mill, and insinuated that it was a matter of personal revenge which had inspired him to commit this outrage. In a few minutes it seemed to Paul that there was no blacker criminal in England than himself. This man Bolitho had created a new atmosphere in the court; his suave, almost smiling, features had changed. When he was examining he pretended to be kind and assumed a confidential and almost friendly manner. In this way he had wormed statements out of men which Paul knew to be diametrically opposed to the truth--he had even obtained the admission, from some of the youths whom he had tried to dissuade from their deed of violence, that he, Paul, had incited them rather than otherwise. And now, in addressing the jury, this Mr. Bolitho had laid special emphasis upon it. Paul was perfectly sure that the man did not believe all he said, but he wanted to make a case, and he had fastened upon himself as the chief culprit.