Then a bell twinkled and he raised his head and saw that the chancel was
full of lights and white-robed priests. It was broad daylight. Horrified
he looked at his watch, to find that it was ten minutes after ten. His
joints creaked as he pulled himself to his feet and his eyes were half
closed as he staggered down the steps and hailed a taxi.
"Criminal Courts Building--side door. And drive like hell!" he muttered
to the driver.
He reached it just as Judge Babson and his attendant were coming into
the courtroom and the crowd were making obeisance. Everybody else was in
his proper place.
"You may proceed, Mr. Tutt," said the judge after the roll of the jury
had been called.
But Mr. Tutt was in a daze, in no condition to think or speak. There was
a curious rustling in his ears and his sight was somewhat blurred. The
atmosphere of the courtroom seemed to him cold and hostile; the jury sat
with averted faces. He rose feebly and cleared his throat.
"Gentlemen of the jury," he began, "I--I think I covered everything I
had to say yesterday afternoon. I can only beseech you to realize the
full extent of your great responsibility and remind you that if you
entertain a reasonable doubt upon the evidence you are sworn to give the
benefit of it to the defendant."
He sank back in his chair and covered his eyes with his hands, while a
murmur ran along the benches of the courtroom. The old man had
collapsed--tough luck--the defendant was cooked! Swiftly O'Brien leaped
to his feet.
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