"
"Come," said George, seeing that they were nearing their destination.
"Hev one more nip just to keep your spirits up," and he produced the
brandy bottle, at which she took a long pull.
"Now," he said, "go for him like a wild cat."
"Never you fear," she said.
They got out of the cab and entered the Sessions House without
attracting any particular notice. The court itself was crowded, for a
case which had excited public interest was coming to a conclusion. The
jury had given their verdict, and sentence was being pronounced by Mr.
de la Molle, the chairman.
Mr. Quest was sitting at his table below the bench taking some notes.
"There's your husband," George whispered, "now do you draw on."
George's part in the drama was played, and with a sigh of relief he
fell back to watch its final development. He saw the fierce tall woman
slip through the crowd like a snake or a panther to its prey, and some
compunction touched him when he thought of the prey. He glanced at the
elderly respectable-looking gentleman by the table, and reflected that
he too was stalking /his/ prey--the old Squire and the ancient house
of de la Molle. Then his compunction vanished, and he rejoiced to
think that he would be the means of destroying a man who, to fill his
pockets, did not hesitate to ruin the family with which his life and
the lives of his forefathers had been interwoven for many generations.
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