Waterbuck, Q.C. , had barely screwed round on his elbow to chat with his Junior before Mr. Justice Bentham himself appeared⁠—a thin, rather hen-like man, with a little stoop, clean-shaven under his snowy wig. Like all the rest of the court, Waterbuck rose, and remained on his feet until the judge was seated. James rose but slightly; he was already comfortable, and had no opinion of Bentham, having sat next but one to him at dinner twice at the Bumley Tomms’. Bumley Tomm was rather a poor thing, though he had been so successful. James himself had given him his first brief. He was excited, too, for he had just found out that Bosinney was not in court.

“Now, what’s he mean by that?” he kept on thinking.

The case having been called on, Waterbuck, Q.C. , pushing back his papers, hitched his gown on his shoulder, and, with a semicircular look around him, like a man who is going to bat, arose and addressed the Court.