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Mr. Carton, who had so long sat looking at the ceiling of the

court, changed neither his place nor his attitude, even in this

excitement. While his learned friend, Mr. Stryver, massing his

papers before him, whispered with those who sat near, and from

time to time glanced anxiously at the jury; while all the

spectators moved more or less, and grouped themselves anew; while

even my Lord himself arose from his seat, and slowly paced up and

down his platform, not unattended by a suspicion in the minds of

the audience that his state was feverish; this one man sat

leaning back, with his torn gown half off him, his untidy wig put

on just as it had happened to light on his head after its

removal, his hands in his pockets, and his eyes on the ceiling as

they had been all day.