“Alive.”
“Then you saw her killed? Be careful.”
“I’m careful,” replied Seth, doggedly. “I saw her killed; yes, shot.”
“Now, on your oath; who fired the shot?”
“Bartley Bradstone!” was the grim reply.
No pen can describe the sensation which for the moment seemed to paralyze the court. The judge raised his head, the jury craned forward; a murmur that was almost a cry ran round.
Faradeane drew a deep sigh, and looked toward Olivia. For a second it seemed as if she were about to fall; but she caught her father’s arm, and hid her face on his shoulder; then she turned and looked at Faradeane.
“Bartley Bradstone,” said Seth. “I see it all. I knew he was to meet her. I watched ’em from under the bracken; I could have touched ’em a’most.”
And in rapid but perfectly distinct words he told the story of the crime.
Amazement sat upon every face. Mr. Sewell, himself pale and disturbed, held up his hand as McAndrew whispered in his ear.