"This is Gilchrist's chance to square himself, Morehead," he announced huskily. "He's got to give us a new trial, or we'll know the reason why." But Judge Gilchrist merely swept the court-room with a weary glance. "Motion denied," he said briefly, and with as much concern as if he brushed away a fly. He now turned to the jury. "Gentlemen," he went on gratefully, "you are discharged for the balance of the week--after this long, protracted trial--with the thanks of the Court, for the fairness, justice and impartiality of your verdict. Good-day, gentlemen." "Wha--what!" gasped Wilkinson in a voice that could be heard all over the court-room. "Does he mean to say that this verdict is just--does he, Morehead?" Colonel Morehead frowned with vexation. "Keep quiet, Wilkinson," was all he said. The Court waited until the jury had filed out, watching them as they went. Then his glance returned to the coterie of counsel at the table. "Counsellor," he remarked to Beekman, "what day will be most convenient to you for sentence? And you, Mr. Leech?" Up to this time Leslie, who had been sitting at the counsel table with her father, had listened in a sort of daze to the proceedings of the court. She had heard all the testimony, understanding it as best she could, and had gathered from her father's manner and that of his counsel, particularly Beekman's, that the whole thing was a mere matter of form, from which her father would come out unscathed and unscarred. The verdict had simply added to this vagueness; but when the Court had pronounced the significant and ugly word 'sentence,' it brought her up, as it were, all standing; and half-rising from her seat she held out her hand in an imploring gesture. "Sentence?" she cried out in her excitement. "No, he can't mean that...." There was a titter from the women on the benches; it brought Leslie to her senses, and flushing and confused she sank back and covered her face with her hands. "Leslie, brace up!" said Beekman, leaning over her, his voice showing his deep emotion. "It will come out all right. We'll win out on appeal." Flomerfelt stepped to the fore and plucked Beekman by the sleeve. "Let me have a word with you," he requested, whispering something in his ear. Beekman at once addressed the Court. "If your Honour please," he began, "may we have a brief consultation among counsel before we ask your Honour to set a day?" "Certainly," agreed the Court, "you may step into the ante-room." Six counsel and Flomerfelt and Wilkinson--eight in all--filed into the ante-room. "Shut that door, Eliot," said Morehead. "Now, Flomerfelt, what's your idea?" * * * * * Out in the court-room J. Newton Leech, who had prosecuted for the People, left the side of Murgatroyd and went over to Leslie to offer his sympathy. "Miss Wilkinson, this has been pretty hard on you." "I don't understand it at all," the girl answered, turning her pale, tired face to his.