—Shakespeare.
Every one arose and looked around to catch sight of the expected witness.
But no one was so much affected as the accused. He started to his feet on first hearing the name of Craven Kyte, and then dropped back into his chair, pale as marble.
Evidently he had not expected to hear this man called.
In the meantime a little bustle was heard in the bottom of the hall, as of some one pushing his way through the crowd.
And presently Craven Kyte, pale, calm, handsome and well-dressed in clerical black, came forward and entered the witness-box.
He bowed to the presiding judge and stood ready to give in his testimony.
All eyes within range of them turned constantly from the witness on the stand to the prisoner at the bar.
The two men were perfect duplicates of each other.
The oath was administered to the witness.