Leigh’s youth seemed appalling in that place. The boy, with his white face and his dark-ringed eyes, looked fifteen. He had a long lock of light brown hair that was usually tossed back from his white forehead--a Byronic effect that Leigh secretly cherished. It was hanging down now, limp and disheveled, and he kept clutching at his necktie with nervous fingers; but there was a light in his eyes, a singular light, as if he saw something inspiring and beautiful. William tried to follow his glance, to discover what had inspired that rapt look, but the crowd was so great that he could not even get through it to sit beside his father. He found standing-room near the door, where he seemed to be unnoticed, and watched the proceedings with a growing feeling of shame that he was not in Leigh’s place. Daniel was engaged now in a tilt with the commonwealth attorney, Major Haskins, a man who William knew had once quarreled with his father, and who was known to be vindictive. Haskins was flushed and excited, declaiming loudly, while Daniel, keeping his temper admirably, scored again and again. It was the case of a skilled toreador baiting a bull. Major Haskins, like the finest bulls in the arena, charged in a straight line, never swerving, and, like the toreador, Daniel dodged lightly on first one side and then the other, parrying the attack but goading the enemy. Something in the extreme dexterity of the goading surprised William again. “I didn’t know Dan had it in him,” he thought with an accession of unexpected pride in this taciturn brother, who had suffered so long and so silently. Then he heard an excited whisper from a woman in front of him. “There she is--the dancer! Look--over to the right--they say she’s going on the stand!” William shrank as if from a physical blow, and his sensitive egotism shivered. This, then, was to be his crowning humiliation, this crowd gathered to stare at his wife! Of course Leigh had been looking at her; he might have known it. The boy was a fool about her, as he himself had been a fool. William felt an unbearable sensation of suffocation; the air of the crowded room was unfit to breathe. People had found him out, too. The companion of the woman who had whispered so loudly had spotted him. They were looking back covertly over their shoulders and talking in audible undertones. “What d’you suppose he was doing?” “That’s her husband--back there.” “Not really! Oh, my----” “Say! Pull Jenny’s dress----” “She’ll want to see him.” William turned, pushed past the men in the doorway, and almost staggered into the corridor. It was absolutely empty. Every living soul who could squeeze into the court-room had done so. A short flight of marble steps descended to a door which opened on the quadrangle and he could see the sunshine on the lowest step. He started down, bent on escape, and came face to face with Colonel Denbigh.