“The doorway to the large hall?”
“Yes, sir.”
Oh, the sinister memories! The moments which I myself had spent there—after this time of her passing through the hall, thank God!—but not long after. And some one had been there before me! Was it Arthur? I hardly had the courage to interrogate his face, but when I did, I, like every one else who looked that way, met nothing but the quietude of a fully composed man. There was nothing to be learned from him now; the hour for self-betrayal was past. I began to have a hideous doubt.
Carmel being innocent, who could be guilty but he. I knew of no one. The misery under which I had suffered was only lightened, not removed. We were still to see evil days. The prosecution would prove its case, and—But there was Mr. Moffat. I must not reckon without Moffat. He had sprung one surprise. Was he not capable of springing another? Relieved, I fixed my mind again upon the proceedings. What was Mr. Fox asking her now?
“Miss Cumberland, are you ready to swear that you did not hear a step at that time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Or see a face?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That you only heard a sigh?”
“A sigh, or something like one.”