“Let him be,” said Barton. “He has collapsed. Lay him on the floor: he’s better so. He needs a turn of my profession: his heart’s weak. Bring some brandy.” Young Wright went for the spirits, while the frightened old lawyer kept murmuring: “The Honorable Thomas Cranley _was_ always very unsatisfactory!” It had been explained to the old gentleman that an impostor would be unmasked, and a criminal arrested; but he had _not_ been informed that the culprit was the son of his great client, Lord Birkenhead. Barton picked up the cigarette-case, and as he, for the first time, examined its interior, some broken glass fell out and tinkled on the floor. CHAPTER XVI.--The Verdict of Fate. Maitland did not dally long in the Levant after getting Barton’s letter. He was soon in a position to receive, in turn, the congratulations which he offered to Margaret and Barton with unaffected delight. Mrs. St. John Deloraine and he understood each other! Maitland, for perhaps the first time in his life, was happy in a thoroughly human old-fashioned way. Meanwhile the preparations for Cranley’s trial dragged on. Interest, as usual, was frittered away in examinations before the magistrates. But at last the day of judgment shone into a court crowded as courts are when it is the agony of a gentleman that the public has to view. When the prisoner, uttering his last and latest falsehood, proclaimed himself “Not Guilty,” his voice was clear and strong enough, though the pallor of his face attested, not only the anxiety of his situation, but the ill-health which, during his confinement, had often made it doubtful whether he could survive to plead at the bar of any earthly judgment. The Counsel for the Crown, opening the case, stated the theory of the prosecution, the case against Cranley. His argument is here offered in a condensed form: