“How do you think the persons to whom they belonged came to their deaths?”
“I find fractures in the skulls of both. If they lie now as they did when the remains were found, (a fact that had been proved by several witnesses,) I am of opinion that a single blow inflicted the injuries on both; it may be, that blow was not sufficient to produce death; but it must have produced a stupor, or insensibility, which would prevent the parties from seeking refuge against the effects of the flames——”
“Is the learned witness brought here to sum up the cause?” demanded Williams, with one of those demoniacal sneers of his, by means of which he sometimes carried off a verdict. “I wish to know, that I may take notes of the course of his argument.”
McBrain drew back, shocked and offended. He was naturally diffident, as his friend used to admit, in everything but wives; and as regarded them “he had the impudence of the devil. Ned would never give up the trade until he had married a dozen, if the law would see him out in it. He ought to have been a follower of the great Mahomet, who made it a point to take a new wife at almost every new moon!” The judge did not like this sneer of Williams; and this so much the less, because, in common with all around him, he had imbibed a profound respect for the knowledge of the witness. It is true, he was very much afraid of the man, and dreaded his influence at the polls; but he really had too much conscience to submit to everything. A judge may yet have a conscience—if the Code will let him.
“This is very irregular, Mr. Williams, not to say improper,” his honour mildly remarked. “The witness has said no more than he has a right to say; and the court must see him protected. Proceed with your testimony, sir.”
“I have little more to say, if it please the court,” resumed McBrain, too much dashed to regain his self-possession in a moment. As this was all Williams wanted, he permitted him to proceed in his own way; and all the doctor had to say was soon told to the jury. The counsel for the prosecution manifested great tact in not cross-examining the witness at all. In a subsequent stage of the trial, Williams had the impudence to insinuate to the jury that they did not attach sufficient importance to his testimony, to subject him to this very customary ordeal.
But the turning point of this trial, as it had been that of the case which preceded it, was the evidence connected with the piece of money. As the existence of the notch was now generally known, it was easy enough to recognise the coin that had been found in Mary Monson’s purse; thus depriving the accused of one of her simplest and best means of demonstrating the ignorance of the witnesses. The notch, however, was Mrs. Burton’s great mark, under favour of which her very material testimony was now given as it had been before.
Dunscomb was on the point of commencing the cross-examination, when the clear melodious voice of Mary Monson herself was heard for the first time since the commencement of the trial.
“Is it permitted to me to question this witness?” demanded the prisoner.
“Certainly,” answered the judge. “It is the right of every one who is arraigned by the country. Ask any question that you please.”