Stone was hungry, too, but he hadn’t thought about it until now.

Then, from somewhere beyond the courtroom, a bell rang, something like a big brass schoolyard bell. The bailiff rose and left the room.

“They’re coming in,” Hewitt said. “Perhaps now we can all have dinner together.” He smiled at Allison.

The bailiff returned to the courtroom and escorted Allison back to the dock. A moment later, the jury filed in.

“All rise!” the bailiff called out, and when everyone had stood, the judge entered and took his seat.

“Gentlemen, have you reached a verdict?” he asked the jury.

The retired tailor rose. “We have, Your Lordship,” he said, handing a sheet of paper to the bailiff.

The bailiff took the paper to the judge, who read it without expression. “Read the verdict,” he said to the bailiff.

The bailiff held up the paper and read it once to himself, then out loud. “We, a jury of freemen of St. Marks, have considered our verdict in the case of the Government of St. Marks versus Allison Ames Manning. After due deliberation, we unanimously find the prisoner guilty of murder.”

The courtroom erupted in gasps and whispers; there was even a little scattered applause. Stone felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the courtroom. He turned to Allison and mouthed the words, “Don’t worry.”

Allison was as white as marble. She sat rigidly, expressionless, looking straight ahead of her but, apparently, not focusing on anything before her. Finally, she turned and looked desolately at Stone, who mouthed his message again. She nodded, then looked down at her lap.

“Sentence will be pronounced immediately,” the judge said, nodding at the bailiff.

Sir Leslie Hewitt was on his feet, in his hand a white envelope sealed with a blob of red wax. “Your Lordship, the defense has prepared an appeal, which we request be sent to the prime minister’s residence without delay, and that sentence be postponed until we have heard from the prime minister.”

The bailiff took the envelope and delivered it to the judge, who glanced at it and returned it to the bailiff. “Deliver this personally as soon as court has adjourned,” the judge said to him, then looked up at Hewitt. “I see no reason to reconvene court at some later time,” he said. “Sentence will be pronounced immediately.” He nodded to the bailiff.

The bailiff went to a small cabinet under the bench and unlocked it with an old brass key. From the cabinet he removed a fringed cushion that supported a black cloth. He walked around the bench, climbed the few steps, and presented his burden to the judge. The judge took the black cloth from the cushion and placed it atop his wig. “All rise to hear the sentence!” the bailiff called out.

Stone struggled to his feet, along with the rest of the court.

The judge looked at Allison. “The prisoner will rise,” he said.