But even Neil, huddled against the wall, heard the last words of the prophet as they thundered forth in sudden passion.
"Winnsome Croche demands the death of her father's murderer!" Nathaniel felt his companion's shoulders sinking under his weight and he leaped quickly to the floor.
"Winnsome is there!" he panted desperately.

"Do you want to see her ?" Neil hesitated.
"No.

Your boots gouge my shoulder.

Take them off." The scene had changed when Nathaniel took his position again.

The jury had left its platform and was filing through a small door.