But as each impaled victim shrank with agonized terror from the torture, Mr.Gitemthruet would turn round to Alaric and assure him that they were going on well, quite as well as he had expected.

Mr.
Chaffanbrass was really exerting himself; and when Mr.Chaffanbrass did really exert himself he rarely failed.
And so the long day faded itself away in the hot sweltering court, and his lordship, at about seven o'clock, declared his intention of adjourning.

Of course a _cause celebre_ such as this was not going to decide itself in one day.

Alaric's guilt was clear as daylight to all concerned; but a man who had risen to be a Civil Service Commissioner, and to be entrusted with the guardianship of twenty thousand pounds, was not to be treated like a butcher who had merely smothered his wife in an ordinary way, or a housebreaker who had followed his professional career to its natural end; more than that was due to the rank and station of the man, and to the very respectable retaining fee with which Mr.Gitemthruet had found himself enabled to secure the venom of Mr.Chaffanbrass.So the jury retired to regale themselves _en masse_ at a neighbouring coffee-house; Alaric was again permitted to be at large on bail (the amiable policeman in mufti still attending him at a distance); and Mr.Chaffanbrass and his lordship retired to prepare themselves by rest for the morrow's labours.
But what was Alaric to do?
He soon found himself under the guardianship of the constant Gitemthruet in a neighbouring tavern, and his cousin Charley was with him.

Charley had been in court the whole day, except that he had twice posted down to the West End in a cab to let Gertrude and Mrs.Woodward know how things were going on.