“And look!” I said, “there’s Luke himself in a sort of pulpit-thing with policemen each side of him.  And there’s another pulpit, the same kind, the other side of the room, see—­only that one’s empty.”

“That one is called the witness-box,” said the Doctor.  “Now I’m going down to speak to one of those men in white wigs; and I want you to wait here and keep these two seats for us.  Bob will stay with you.  Keep an eye on him—­better hold on to his collar.  I shan’t be more than a minute or so.”

With that the Doctor disappeared into the crowd which filled the main part of the room.

Then I saw the judge take up a funny little wooden hammer and knock on his desk with it.  This, it seemed, was to make people keep quiet, for immediately every one stopped buzzing and talking and began to listen very respectfully.  Then another man in a black gown stood up and began reading from a paper in his hand.

He mumbled away exactly as though he were saying his prayers and didn’t want any one to understand what language they were in.  But I managed to catch a few words: 

“Biz—­biz—­biz—­biz—­biz—­otherwise known as Luke the Hermit, of—­biz—­biz—­biz—­biz—­for killing his partner with—­biz—­biz—­biz—­otherwise known as Bluebeard Bill on the night of the—­biz—­biz—­biz—­in the biz—­biz—­biz—­ of Mexico.  Therefore Her Majesty’s—­biz—­biz—­biz—­”

At this moment I felt some one take hold of my arm from the back, and turning round I found the Doctor had returned with one of the men in white wigs.

“Stubbins, this is Mr. Percy Jenkyns,” said the Doctor.  “He is Luke’s lawyer.  It is his business to get Luke off—­if he can.”

Mr. Jenkyns seemed to be an extremely young man with a round smooth face like a boy.  He shook hands with me and then immediately turned and went on talking with the Doctor.

“Oh, I think it is a perfectly precious idea,” he was saying.  “Of course the dog must be admitted as a witness; he was the only one who saw the thing take place.  I’m awfully glad you came.  I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.  My hat!  Won’t it make the old court sit up?  They’re always frightfully dull, these Assizes.  But this will stir things.  A bulldog witness for the defense!  I do hope there are plenty of reporters present—­Yes, there’s one making a sketch of the prisoner.  I shall become known after this—­And won’t Conkey be pleased?  My hat!”

He put his hand over his mouth to smother a laugh and his eyes fairly sparkled with mischief.  “Who is Conkey?” I asked the Doctor.

“Sh!  He is speaking of the judge up there, the Honorable Eustace Beauchamp Conckley.”

“Now,” said Mr. Jenkyns, bringing out a notebook, “tell me a little more about yourself, Doctor.  You took your degree as Doctor of Medicine at Durham, I think you said.  And the name of your last book was?”

I could not hear any more for they talked in whispers; and I fell to looking round the court again.