gentlemanly, he appeared little suited to his position in that court.
“I protest against this going on,” he was saying for about the fiftieth time, as Frederick Grey edged himself on to the inch and a half of bench. “I protest against this woman’s evidence. I say—as I said at the time—that the person who lay ill was a stranger to me; what interest, then, could I———"
“Now, Carlton, I won’t have it,” interrupted Lawyer Billiter, wiping his hot face. “I declare, if you do ruin your cause in this manner, I’ll leave you to it. You be quiet, and trust to me.”
“But I did not know her, and I shall say it,” persisted the prisoner. “I ask what motive———"
“We cannot hear this, Mr. Carlton,” at length interposed the bench, tolerant hitherto, but Mr. Carlton was not an ordinary prisoner. “You can make your defence at the proper period; this is only wasting the time of the bench, and can do you no possible good. You must let the witness give her evidence.”
The witness looked rather uncertain what to do, what with the gaze of the crowded court, and Mr. Carlton’s interruptions. It was evident that Judith Ford was not a very willing witness.
“Go on, witness,” said the magistrate. “You looked into the room, you say, and saw Mr. Carlton. What was he doing?”
“He had a small bottle in his hand, sir,”: replied Judith; “a very little tiny bottle; but that he held it up, right in the light, I should not have been able to distinguish what it was. He was putting the cork into it, and then he dropped it into his waistcoat pocket. After that he took up the other bottle———"
“What bottle?” interrupted Lawyer Billiter, snapping up Judith.
“The other bottle that stood on the cheffonier, close to his hand; it was a bottle the size of those sent in by Mr. Stephen Grey with the night draughts. The cork lay by it, and he took up the cork very quickly and put it into the bottle———"
“You can’t swear that it was the bottle and draught just sent in by Mr. Stephen Grey?”
“No,” said Judith, “but I think it was. I could see that it had a label on it, and it was full of medicine. No other bottle in the house, but that, was full that night, as was testified to by the nurse at the inquest.”
“But———"
“Go on, witness,” interposed the bench, drowning Mr. Carlton’s “but.”
“When Mr. Carlton had corked it up,” resumed the witness, “he placed it in a corner of the shelf of the cheffonier, in a slanting position, and came out of the room very quickly; so quickly, that I had no time to get away. I went to the side of the landing, and stood against the wall, but———"
“Where he would pass you as he went downstairs?”
“Oh, no, sir, he would not pass me; I was further up, nearer to the bedroom door. He saw me standing there; at least he saw my face, and spoke, asking what I was; but I did not answer, and he looked alarmed. While he went back for the light, I slipped into the broom closet by the bedroom.”
“But you were not the dark man with whiskers, to whom allusion has been so often made?” exclaimed one of the astonished magistrates.
“Yes, I was, sir; at least I was what Mr. Carlton took to be a man. I had my cheeks tied up with black plush, on account of the face-ache, a piece on each side, and the plush and the frilled black border of my cap looked just like whiskers in the uncertain light.”
“But why did you disguise yourself like that?” was the inquiry of the magistrate, when the surprise had in some degree subsided. “What was your motive?”
“I beg your pardon, sir, but I had not meant it for any disguise,” replied Judith. “I had no thought of such a thing. My face was in great pain and much swollen, and Mr. Stephen Grey had told me I ought to tie it up. I had no other motive in doing it. Had I waited for Mr. Carlton to see me when I brought out the light, he would have known who it was.”
“This is a most extraordinary avowal, witness!” struck in Lawyer Billiter, who indeed spoke but in accordance with his own opinion and the general feeling. “Pray had you any knowledge of Mr. Carlton previous to this?”
“Not any,” was the reply. “I had seen him passing in the street in his carriage and knew him by sight from that circumstance; but he had never seen me in his life.”
“And now, witness, what was your motive for watching Mr. Carlton from the landing on this night, as you tell us you did?”
“Indeed I had no motive,” was the earnest reply of the witness; “I did not purposely watch him. When I heard a movement in the room as I got to the top of the stairs, I feared it was Mrs. Crane—as I have stated to you—and I looked in quietly, thinking how very imprudent it was of her. I did not know anybody except Mrs. Crane was up—stairs; I had no idea Mr. Carlton was there. But when I looked in I saw it was Mr. Carlton, and I saw him doing what I have told you. It all happened in an instant, as it were, and he came