“Will you have the goodness to take that rod, and tell me what is the difference in length between the two skeletons?”
“I trust, your honour, that this is testimony which will not be received,” put in Williams. “The fact is before the jury, and they can take cognizance of it for themselves.”
Dunscomb smiled as he answered—
“The zeal of the learned gentleman runs ahead of his knowledge of the rules of evidence. Does he expect the jury to measure the remains; or are we to show the fact by means of witnesses?”
“This is a cross-examination; and the question is one in chief. The witness belongs to the defence, if the question is to be put at all.”
“I think not, your honour. The witness has testified, in chief, that he believes these remains to be those of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin; he has further said, on his cross-examination, that Dorothy was half an inch taller than Peter; we now wish to put to the test the accuracy of the first opinion, by comparing the two facts—his knowledge of the difference by the former measurement as compared with the present. It has been said that these two skeletons are very nearly of a length. We wish the truth to be seen.”
“The witness will answer the question,” said the judge.
“I doubt the power of the court to compel a witness to obtain facts in this irregular mode,” observed the pertinacious Williams.
“You can note your exceptions, brother Williams,” returned the judge, smiling; “although it is not easy to see with what useful consequences. If the prisoner be acquitted, you can hardly expect to try her again; and, if convicted, the prosecution will scarcely wish to press any objection.”
Williams, who was as much influenced by a bull-dog tenacity, as by any other motive, now submitted; and Burton took the rod and measured the skeletons, an office he might have declined, most probably, had he seen fit. The spectators observed surprise in his countenance; and he was seen to repeat the measurement, seemingly with more care.