Lewis wiped his face, and tried to calm his breathing, and glared fearfully towards the bench, but never spoke.
"You have been sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, sir, and you must do so," said the judge, staring at his ugly face, through his glasses. "Answer the question."
"Y—es."
"What was your motive for doing so?" asked Serjeant Wrangle.
"It was only done in fun. I didn't mean to hurt him."
"Pretty fun!" ejaculated one of the jury, who had a timid boy of his own in the college school, and thought how horrible might be the consequences should he get locked up in St. James's Church.
"How long did you leave him there?"
"I don't know. I took back the key to the clerk's, and the next morning, when we went to let him out, he was gone."
"Who is 'we?' Who was with you?" cried Serjeant Wrangle, catching at the word.
"Mr. George Prattleton. He was at the clerk's in the morning, and I told him about it, and asked him to get the key, for Hunt would not let me have it. So he was coming with me to open the church; but Hunt happened to say that Arkell had just been to his house. He had got out somehow."