"No, sir. I can only say that in recalling the sensations of that hour, I am certain my own movement was not the result of any I saw him take. The instinct to leave the place had its birth in my own breast."
"I told you so," commented Hickory, in the ear of Byrd. "She is not going to give herself away, whatever happens."
"But can you positively say he did not make the first motion to leave?"
"No, sir."
Mr. Ferris bowed, turned toward the opposing counsel and said:
"The witness is yours."
Mr. Ferris sat down perfectly satisfied. He had dexterously brought out Imogene's suspicions of the prisoner's guilt, and knew that the jury must be influenced in their convictions by those of the woman who, of all the world, ought to have believed, if she could, in the innocence of her lover. He did not even fear the cross-examination which he expected to follow. No amount of skill on the part of Orcutt could extract other than the truth, and the truth was that Imogene believed the prisoner to be the murderer of his aunt. He, therefore, surveyed the court-room with a smile, and awaited the somewhat slow proceedings of his opponent with equanimity.
But, to the surprise of every one, Mr. Orcutt, after a short consultation with the prisoner, rose and said he had no questions to put to the witness.
And Miss Dare was allowed to withdraw from the stand, to the great satisfaction of Mr. Ferris, who found himself by this move in a still better position than he had anticipated.
"Byrd," whispered Hickory, as Miss Dare returned somewhat tremulously to her former seat among the witnesses—"Byrd, you could knock me over with a feather. I thought the defence would have no difficulty in riddling this woman's testimony, and they have not even made the effort. Can it be that Orcutt has such an attachment for her that he is going to let his rival hang?"