Upon this Anstey rose and, addressing the judge, said—
"I call witnesses, my lord."
The judge nodded and made an entry in his notes while Anstey delivered his brief introductory speech—
"My lord and gentlemen of the jury, I shall not occupy the time of the Court with unnecessary appeals at this stage, but shall proceed to take the evidence of my witnesses without delay."
There was a pause of a minute or more, during which the silence was broken only by the rustle of papers and the squeaking of the judge's quill pen. Juliet turned a white, scared face to me and said in a hushed whisper—
"This is terrible. That last man's evidence is perfectly crushing. What can possibly be said in reply? I am in despair; oh! poor Reuben! He is lost, Dr. Jervis! He hasn't a chance now."
"Do you believe that he is guilty?" I asked.
"Certainly not!" she replied indignantly. "I am as certain of his innocence as ever."
"Then," said I, "if he is innocent, there must be some means of proving his innocence."
"Yes. I suppose so," she rejoined in a dejected whisper. "At any rate we shall soon know now."