“Mr. Hubbard, the young lady has voluntarily come here to give evidence for the prisoner, and her testimony will be received,” interposed the judge, with considerable sternness, adding, peremptorily: “Officer, swear the witness.”
After Allison was sworn, he courteously remarked:
“Now, Miss Brewster, you may proceed.”
“I am told,” the fair witness began, but now very pale, “that Mr. Winchester is being tried for the crime of robbery. I know that he is guiltless, for I have heard my father say, many times, that he was the most trustworthy young man he ever met. I have heard him say that he was ‘almost morbidly honest.’ I have learned today that this supposed robbery was committed on Sunday, the—the morning after my father died.” Allison’s voice wavered slightly here. “But I am sure there was no theft—no intent to steal; I believe that he was sent to the bank to get the articles found in his possession. I know he came to see papa on Saturday—the day before—for I went into the room while he was there. I am sure, too, that he must have come by appointment, for my father denied himself to all visitors, and seldom saw any one outside the family except on necessary business. If Mr. Winchester says that he gave him the keys to the bank to enable him to perform this errand, I know he must have done so, for he is incapable of falsehood.”
The court-room might have been empty, it was so still. There was not a sound save that sweet, young voice, which was like music to at least one pair of eager ears, as it bravely rehearsed the sterling qualities of her persecuted lover.
The audience listened spellbound—even the judge betrayed, by his eager attitude, how intensely interested he was, while John Hubbard was as white as the handkerchief with which, from time to time, he wiped the moisture from his forehead.
“Neither my father nor Mr. Winchester was aware of my presence in the room until a minute or two after I entered,” Allison resumed, after a momentary pause, “and as I stepped inside the portiéres I heard Gerald say, ‘I have never made a false entry in one of your books.’ ‘I am sure you have not, Gerald,’ papa replied. ‘I would stake my fortune upon your integrity, and your faithfulness to my interests. I will look into this matter as soon as I am able.’ Then I made it known that I was in the room, and, a few minutes later, Mr. Winchester went away.”
Allison heaved a sigh of relief as she concluded, although she would have been willing to talk on indefinitely if she could have given conclusive proof of Gerald’s innocence. But the little that she had told tallied so exactly with his own account of his conversation with Mr. Brewster that it proved a great deal for him.
“Do you think it would have been possible for Mr. Winchester to get possession of your father’s keys without his knowledge?” Gerald’s counsel inquired, a ring of triumph in his tones.