Jeffreys stirred in his scarlet robes, and his wistful eyes grew terrible as they bent from under beetling brows upon the witness.
“Why,” he asked, “dost thou think that she would entertain any one she had no knowledge of merely upon thy message? Mr. Dunne, Mr. Dunne! Have a care. It may be more is known to me of this matter than you think for.”
“My lord, I speak nothing but the truth!” bleated the terrified Dunne.
“I only bid you have a care,” Jeffreys smiled; and his smile was more terrible than his frown. “Truth never wants a subterfuge; it always loves to appear naked; it needs no enamel nor any covering. But lying and snivelling and canting and Hicksing always appear in masquerade. Come, go on with your evidence.”
But Dunne was reluctant to go on, and out of his reluctance he lied foolishly, and pretended that both Hicks and Nelthorp were unknown to him. When pressed to say why he should have served two men whom he had never seen before, he answered:
“All the reason that induced me to it was that they said they were men in debt, and desired to be concealed for a while.”
Then the thunder was heard in Jeffreys' voice.
“Dost thou believe that any one here believes thee? Prithee, what trade art thou?”
“My lord,” stammered the unfortunate, “I—I am a baker by trade.”
“And wilt thou bake thy bread at such easy rates? Upon my word, then, thou art very kind. Prithee, tell me. I believe thou dost use to bake on Sundays, dost thou not?”