Wiltshire. We don't want your opinion. Confine yourself to facts.
Prisoner. You heard me rating my husband on that night: what was it I said about the constables,—do you remember?
Jane. La, dame, I wouldn't ask that if I was in your place.
Prisoner. I am much obliged to you for your advice; but answer me—truly.
Jane. Well, if you will have it, I think you said they should be here in the morning. But, indeed, good gentlemen, her bark was always worse than her bite, poor soul.
Judge. Here. That meant at Hernshaw Castle, I presume.
Jane. Ay, my lord, an' if it please your lordship's honor's worship.
Mrs. Gaunt, husbanding the patience of the court, put no questions at all to several witnesses; but she cross-examined Mrs. Ryder very closely. This was necessary; for Ryder was a fatal witness. Her memory had stored every rash and hasty word the poor lady had uttered, and, influenced either by animosity or prejudice, she put the worst color on every suspicious circumstance. She gave her damnatory evidence neatly, and clearly, and with a seeming candor and regret, that disarmed suspicion.
When her examination in chief concluded, there was but one opinion amongst the bar, and the auditors in general, namely, that the maid had hung the mistress.
Mrs. Gaunt herself felt she had a terrible antagonist to deal with, and, when she rose to cross-examine her, she looked paler than she had done all through the trial.
She rose, but seemed to ask herself how to begin; and her pallor and her hesitation, while they excited some little sympathy, confirmed the unfavorable impression. She fixed her eyes upon the witness, as if to discover where she was most vulnerable. Mrs. Ryder returned her gaze calmly. The court was hushed; for it was evident a duel was coming between two women of no common ability.
The opening rather disappointed expectation. Mrs. Gaunt seemed, by her manner, desirous to propitiate the witness.
Prisoner (very civilly). You say you brought Thomas Leicester to my bedroom on that terrible night?
Ryder (civilly). Yes, madam.
Prisoner. And you say he stayed there half an hour?
Ryder. Yes, madam; he did.
Prisoner. May I inquire how you know he stayed just half an hour?
Ryder. My watch told me that, madam. I brought him to you at a quarter past eleven; and you did not ring for me till a quarter to twelve.
Prisoner. And when I did ring for you, what then?
Ryder. I came and took the man away, by your orders.
Prisoner. At a quarter to twelve?
Ryder. At a quarter to twelve.
Prisoner. This Leicester was a lover of yours?
Ryder. Not he.
Prisoner. O, fie! Why, he offered you marriage; it went so far as that.
Ryder. O, that was before you set him up pedler.
Prisoner. 'T was so; but he was single for your sake, and he renewed his offer that very night. Come, do not forswear yourself about a trifle.
Ryder. Trifle, indeed! Why, if he did, what has that to do with the murder? You'll do yourself no good, madam, by going about so.
Wiltshire. Really, madam, this is beside the mark.
Prisoner. If so, it can do your case no harm. My lord, you did twice interrupt the learned counsel, and forbade him to lead his witnesses; I not once, for I am for stopping no mouths, but sifting all to the bottom. Now, I implore you to let me have fair play in my turn, and an answer from this slippery witness.
Judge. Prisoner, I do not quite see your drift; but God forbid you should be hampered in your defence.
