But a growing rumour, freezing the very marrow in the bones of their curiosity, had come abroad. It was said that Jim had disappeared: was not to be found under the local skies; and it was this caused the chief portion of the public excitement. For in point of fact, when Bowen and the rest arrived at Barmester, Jim Sanders could not be seen or heard of. Dumps was despatched back to Barbrook in search of him. The hearing was fixed for ten o'clock; and before that hour struck, the magistrates--a full bench of them--had taken their places. Many familiar faces were to be seen in the crowded court--familiar to you, my readers; for the local world was astir with interest and curiosity. In one part of the crowd might be seen the face of George Ryle, grave and subdued; in another, the dark flashing eyes of Nora Dickson; yonder the red cheeks of Mr. Apperley; nearer, the pale concerned countenance of Mr. Freeman. Just before the commencement of the proceedings, the carriage from Trevlyn Hold drove up, and there descended from it Mr. and Madam Chattaway, and Miss Diana Trevlyn. A strange proceeding, you will say, that the ladies should appear; but it was not deemed strange in the locality. Miss Diana had asserted her determination to be present in tones quite beyond the power of Mr. Chattaway to contradict, even had he wished to do so; and thus he had no plea for refusing his wife. How ill she looked! Scarcely a heart but ached for her. The two ladies sat in a retired spot, and Mr. Chattaway--who was in the commission of the peace, but did not exercise the privilege once in a dozen years--took his place on the bench. Then the prisoner was brought in, civilly conducted by Superintendent Bowen. He looked pale, subdued, gentlemanly--not in the least like one who would set fire to a hay-rick. "Have you all your witnesses, Bowen?" inquired the presiding magistrate. "All but one, sir, and I expect him here directly; I have sent after him," was the reply. "In fact, I'm not sure but he is here," added the man, standing on tiptoe, and stretching his neck upwards; "the crowd's so great one can't see who's here and who isn't. If he can be heard first, his evidence may be conclusive, and save the trouble of examining the others." "You can call him," observed the magistrate. "If he is here, he will answer. What's the name?" "James Sanders, your worship." "Call James Sanders," returned his worship, exalting his voice. The call was made in obedience, and "James Sanders!" went ringing through the court; and walls and roof echoed the cry. But there was no other answer. CHAPTER XL THE EXAMINATION