The Duke of Hereward bore the searching glare quite calmly. He simply leaned back in his chair, with folded arms and attentive face, on which curiosity was the only expression.
"Mr. Keir," said the venerable Counsellor Guthrie, of the defence, "is all this supposed to concern the case before the jury?"
"Ay, does it!" cried Rose Cameron, before the lawyer addressed could reply. "Ay, does it, as ye will sune see, gin ye will gie me leave to speak."
Meanwhile the Duke of Hereward took out his note-book and wrote these lines:
"Pray let the witness proceed without regard to her use of my name. I think the ends of justice require that she be suffered to give her testimony in her own way. Hereward."
He tore this leaf out and passed it on to Mr. Guthrie, who read it with some surprise, and then waved his hand to Mr. Keir, and sat down with the air of a man who had complied with an indiscreet request, and washed his hands of the consequences.
"The time of the court is being unnecessarily wasted. Let the examination of the witness go on," said the presiding judge.
"It shall, my lord," answered the Queen's Counsel, with an inclination of his white-wigged head. Then turning to the bold blonde on the stand, he proceeded:
"Witness, tell the jury what occurred that night under the balcony of Miss Levison's apartments at Castle Lone."
Rose Cameron threw another vindictive glance at the Duke of Hereward, and commenced her narrative.