John Gaviller looked up astonished.
The judge gave her over to Denholm. "Will you examine?" he asked.
Denholm consulted with his client. Ambrose, up to this moment so indifferent to the lawyers, could be seen giving him positive instructions. Denholm expostulated with him. The bench showed symptoms of impatience. Finally Denholm rose.
"My lord," he said. "I have never seen Miss Gaviller before this moment. I have no inkling of the nature of her evidence. Left to myself, I should ask for an adjournment; surely we are entitled to it. But my client insists on going ahead. My lord"—his voice shook a little—"none but an innocent man could be so rash!"
"Never mind that," rebuked the judge. He was distinctly nettled by the upset of court decorum.
"I will therefore respectfully ask the indulgence of the court,"
Denholm went on, "and move to reopen the taking of testimony."
"Proceed," said the judge.
A court attendant led Colina to the witness stand. She was sworn. Judge, lawyers, and spectators alike searched her grave, composed face for some suggestion of what she had to say. Nothing was to be read there.
"Miss Gaviller," said Denholm, "I can only ask you to tell in your own words all that you know bearing on the offenses with which Ambrose Doane is charged."
"My father, Mr. Macfarlane, Dr. Giddings have all testified, I suppose," said Colina. "They can tell you as much or more than I can. I have come to tell you of things that happened after his arrest, after all the others went out of the country."