"Of course," he said, recovering himself--"quite natural. I should have done the same myself had I been in a better place than the dock. Well, I was surprised; I fully anticipated a verdict of guilty."
"And," I continued, "although you may not remember it, you leaned forward and gazed at the jury with an appearance of eagerness."
"I remember that I did so," he said; "it was an impulsive movement on my part."
"Did you recognize any among them whose face was familiar to you?"
"No; to tell you the truth, I could not distinguish their faces, I am so short-sighted."
"But you had your glasses hanging round your neck. Why did you not use them?"
It amazed me to hear him laugh at this question. It was a gentle, kindly laugh, but none the less was I astonished at it.
"You lawyers are so sharp," he said, "that there is scarcely hiding anything from you. Be careful what questions you ask me, or I shall be compelled"--and here his voice grew sad--"to beg of you not to come again."
I held myself well within control, although his admonition startled me, for I had it in my mind to ask him something concerning the surprise he had evinced when the Nine of Hearts was produced from the pocket of his ulster; and I had it also in my mind to ask him whether he was acquainted, either directly or indirectly, with Mr. James Rutland. His caution made me cautious; his wariness made me wary; I seemed to be pitted against him in a friendly contest in which I was engaged in his interests and he was engaged against them.
"I will be careful," I said; "you must not close your door against me, although it is, unhappily, a prison door. I am here truly as a sympathizing friend. Look upon me in that light, and not in the light of a professional man."