She was bidden to tell the whole of that story also, and did so in the same clear, straightforward manner in which she had told it in the magistrate's office, told it simply, artlessly—as not aware of the bravery and unselfishness of her conduct in attempting the capture of the burglars at the risk of being attacked and murdered by them—and in the same calm, even, distinct tones in which she had spoken at first.
A murmur of admiration ran through the court-room as she concluded her narrative with, "Papa was asleep and I couldn't speak just at first for want of breath; but when I put my arm round his neck and laid my face on the pillow beside his, he woke and I told him about the burglars and what I had done."
The prisoners had listened with close attention and evident interest.
"So 'twas her—that chit of a gal, that fastened us in—caught us in a trap, as one may say," muttered Davis, scowling at her and grinding his teeth with rage. "Pity I didn't hold on to that ere bridle and kerry her off afore we ventur'd in thar."
A warning look from his counsel silenced him, and the latter addressed himself to Lulu.
"You say you had seen Davis three times before to-day. Where and when did you see him the third time?"
"In the magistrate's office, the next morning after he and Ajax had been in our house."
"Did you then recognize them as the same men you had seen in the strong room of your home the night before at work at the lock of the safe?"
"Yes, sir; and Davis as the man who had seized my pony's bridle in the wood."
"But you had not seen Ajax Stone's face; how then could you recognize him?"