“But he didn’t do it, Leander?” she urged pleadingly. “He’s not a thief at all!”
“Of course he isn’t,” Viles assented. “That’s the beauty of the little trap I laid.”
Flames were burning in her cheeks now; her head was high. “I won’t testify against him,” she said swiftly. “You can’t do it without me, and I won’t—”
“That was why you ran away?” he asked casually. “To avoid testifying? I thought as much.”
“I won’t go back!” she cried. “I’ll go away again!”
He smiled. “There were others who saw,” he told her mildly. “Do you suppose I would be content with so loose a plan? They saw him, as well as you. Saw you also.” He leaned toward her ferociously. “You’ll testify, and you’ll tell the truth, or I’ll convict you of perjury on your own lie, my dear. He’ll go to jail certainly; and you also if you choose.”
The woman was very intent, her thoughts racing. And suddenly she laughed in his face. “And I’ll tell what you’ve just told me,” she reminded him. “How long will your scheme stand then?”
He shook his head. “Oh, no, you won’t, my dear.”
“I will.”
“There is,” he said equably, “a little provision in the law of evidence which will prevent you. A wife cannot testify to any private conversation between herself and her husband. Did you suppose I would be so mad as to let you slip out of this trap so easily? The judge himself will forbid your saying one word as to what I have told you here.”