tion in the direction of the jury as if to say, "You see, he hasn't a leg to stand on. He is afraid to answer me."
And then he put his final question, "Am I to understand then that you decline to furnish this court with one single motive that would explain your invasion of Prince Rao-Singh's house? That you decline to state any reason whatever for this cowardly assault upon a defenseless man in his own home?"
Dudley raised his head wearily and faced his tormentor, "I shot him—that's absolutely all I care to say."
To Carmelita, sitting on the edge of her chair, digging her two hands into the table in front of her until the knuckles were white, it seemed that she must scream out that an injustice was being done. She swept the jury with her agonized eyes and she saw that their minds were made up. There was only one verdict, "Guilty!" and no escape. She did not hear Dudley's last words nor the curt dismissal of the witness by Banning. Dudley was stumbling past her to his chair, his shoulders slumped, his whole body like a taut spring that has been at last relaxed. A great wave of love and pity surged out of her. No, no, she could not let him do it! And suddenly the path of duty gleamed bright and broad ahead of her.
