“Only as to the photo in your dining-room, your worship, besides the one I gave to Lucy. They are both faithful likenesses of the man I shot at and hit in the back.”
At this critical moment, when the doctor seemed somewhat confounded and rose as if he could bear it no longer, two young women, Lucy and the doctor’s servant, Maria, were disputing as to who ought to catch the squire’s eye to have the first say after Tom Trigger had done.
“Come forward, Lucy,” cried the squire, who had noticed the altercation. “What is it you wish to say?”
“If you please, squire, I only wish to say that my Tom is no poacher, and as to the photo that the doctor turned his nose up at, I can swear that it was taken on the banks of the Crystal Palace lake, and is a faithful portrait of Mr Falcon, who made no attempt to rescue Miss Dove.”
“And please, squire,” said Maria, “may I speak?”
“Certainly; and what have you to say?”
“I ought to have said so before, your worship, Doctor Peters is wanted immediately by a lady who is very bad.”
“Hurry off, doctor,” said the squire.
After the doctor’s exit, Maria asked, when she saw that her master had left, whether she could state something that took place at their house during his absence in the park looking at the balloon. It had been preying on her mind, but she did not like to make it known, because she thought the doctor would not believe it, and would blame her.
“As your master has just left, Maria, I would reserve what you have to state until he is present, and then speak out fearlessly if it is anything that would concern him or any of us here assembled.”