“He left this the night before the trial came on, with that young gentleman that was here.”
“Ah, he left him! Deserted him in his last need!” cried she, faintly, but with an intense agony in the tone.
“Had they been friends?” asked the doctor; but she never heard the question, and sat with her hands clasped before her, motionless and silent.
“Were you there throughout the whole trial?” asked she, at last.
“No, I was present only on the last day, and I heard his speech.”
“Tell me how he looked; was he broken or depressed?”
“The very reverse. It would have been better for him if he had looked cast down or in grief. It was too bold and too defiant he was, and this grew on him as he spoke, till, towards the end of his speech, he all but said, ‘I dare you to find me guilty!’”
“The brave old man!” muttered she below her breath.
“When the crowd in the court cheered him, I knew what would happen. No Judge in the land could have said a word for him after that.”
“The brave old man!” mattered she again.