"Speak up, Miss Trevethick," said the counsel, encouragingly; "these twelve gentlemen are all very anxious to hear what you have to say." The judge nodded and smiled, as though in corroboration, as well as to add, upon his own account, that it would give him also much pleasure to hear her.
"Was the prisoner staying in the inn as an ordinary guest, or did he mix with the family?"
"He was in the bar parlor most nights, Sir, along with father and me and
Solomon."
"He was in the bar parlor most nights," repeated Mr. Balais, significantly, for he was anxious that the jury should catch that answer—"'With father and me and Solomon.' And who introduced him into the parlor?"
"Father brought him first, Sir, on the second day after he came to
Gethin."
"Father brought him in, did he? Now, that is rather an unusual thing for the landlord of an inn to do, is it not? To introduce a young man whom he had known but twenty-four hours to his family circle, and to the society of his daughter, eh?"
"Please, Sir, I don't know, Sir."
"No, of course you don't, Miss Trevethick; how should you? But I think the jury know. You have no idea, then, yourself, why your father introduced this young gentleman to you so early?"
"Father said he was a friend of Mr. Carew's, of Crompton, who is father's landlord."
"Just so," said Mr. Balais, with another significant glance at the attentive twelve. "Mr. Trevethick had already discovered that this youth was of a good social position, and likely to prove an excellent match. 'Will you walk into my parlor?' said the spider to the fly; 'I have the prettiest daughter that ever you did spy.'"