"I have no objection, my lord," replied Longly, turning toward the judge, "to say anything in the world, if I am asked in a civil way, do you see; but if he tries to brow-beat me, he shall find himself mistaken."
"You must respect the court, sir," replied the judge. "We will not suffer you to be brow-beat, but you must remember the awful nature of the proceeding in which we are engaged. The life of a fellow-creature is at stake--a terrible crime has been committed, and the law must be satisfied. Have you any objection, Mr. Longly, to answer the court what was the business you were engaged in during the time that the prisoner at the bar was with you. You are not obliged, however, to say anything to criminate yourself, therefore, let your answer be considerate."
Longly paused for a moment, ere he replied, and turned his eyes toward Everard Morrison; but then, slapping his knee after his own peculiar fashion, he answered, "Well, I don't care! It must be told one day, so it shall out now. Why, my lord, you see I was fighting a duel! There is no harm in that, I take it. There's not a man among you," and he looked around the court, "there's not a man among you that wouldn't fight, too, if a scoundrel were to come and attempt to kidnap your child--to take your daughter away against her will, and under false pretences. That's what I fought for."
The movement produced in court by Longly's words, was indescribable, and even the judge was affected; but still greater was the sensation when the old seaman went on to describe the whole that had taken place, the provocation given, the conduct of young Hargrave and that of Charles Tyrrell, and ended by declaring that the young baronet had determined to stand his trial, and even die, rather than betray the trust reposed in him.
The words that he used, in any other man's mouth, would, probably, have produced little or no effect; but there was something in the simplicity which, mingled with Longly's shrewdness, and in the contrast between the bold ingenuity with which he frustrated the efforts of the counsel to extract his secret, and the straightforward candour with which he afterward told it, all at once, that gave point to every word.
In answer to some further questions from the court, in reference to the ultimate fate of Hargrave, he said:--
"Why, my lord, I thought the scoundrel was as dead as a stock-fish; but I have heard since that he got quite well, and was drowned when the cutter got ashore on the Hog's-back. But you see, as soon as I heard that, I went and asked old Jenkins, with whom I had left him; and I made him tell me the truth; and then I found that it was only a faint that he was in. He went on fainting that way all day; but he got better afore the next morning, and then he made old Jenkins swear he would not tell but that he was dead. He had some deviltry or another in hand, depend upon it, by pretending to be dead when he was living; but, howsoever, he's as dead as a mackerel now, that's clear."
"This matter must be inquired into further," said the judge; "but, in the meantime, I hope the witness will remember the dangerous situation he not only brought himself, but others, by giving way to a spirit of revenge:" and he proceeded to read Longly a lecture, to which the other listened with great attention, being far more edified by the full wig and furred gown, than by those absurd conceits wherewith our gentlemen of the bar are compelled to disfigure themselves.
When Longly had been suffered to go down, the good fisherman, John Hailes, was called, and confirmed, in every particular, the evidence of the preceding witness.
His account of the duel between Longly and Lieutenant Hargrave, delivered in homely language, and stripped of every shade of the imaginative, made a smile run through the court; but while he went on the jury were consulting together, without attending; and as soon as he had done, the foreman addressed the judge, saying:--