“I must speak—I must speak now.”
Hastily Sir Almeric takes a hand.
“The young woman who desires so urgently to be heard, my lord, was formerly parlour-maid at the Thatched House. I doubt, however, if she is in a fit condition to go into the witness-box to-day at all. I understand she has just come from her husband’s death-bed.”
The judge leans forward.
“Do you regard her as an important witness, Sir Almeric?”
“No, my lord. She was moving about the house during the night of Mrs. Garlett’s death. Also she has evidence to tender concerning the secret meetings which took place between Henry Garlett and some unnamed young woman in a wood before Mrs. Garlett’s death.”
Again there rises that strange, unnatural cry—loud, defiant:
“I demand to be heard now! I have the right to be heard now!”
The judge frowns. He peers forward till he thinks he distinguishes the hysterical young woman who has been making such an unseemly disturbance, and then he says, slowly, distinctly, and severely:
“You will be heard when I direct you to be heard. And I now direct that your evidence shall be taken after the rest of the witnesses for the prosecution have been examined, cross-examined, and re-examined.”