"I am sorry for that," interposed the Judge; "you were beginning to interest me more than I should have believed possible."
Mr. Gentle Gammon bowed ever so slightly, as if the Learned Judge had crowned him with a compliment that he found too heavy for his head to support, and proceeded—
"But, my Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, if I say little else with regard to this case before you, which is permeated throughout by the mythical mystery of a classical age, it is only that the witnesses I shall produce to prove this strange thing may speak instead of myself. Three witnesses in all, and one in particular. The one in particular, since only truth can issue from the lips of infancy, I shall call first. My Lord, I shall put a child, a little boy, into the witness box that you may hear his simple story."
Judge. "Dear me, I hope he won't be frightened of the Lion." (Titters in Court.)
Mr. Gammon, K.C. "On the contrary, my Lord, you will find he regards it as an old friend; and, my Lord, when you have listened to what he has to say, I think we may all realise 'that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in—er—philosophy.'"
His Lordship (pleasantly). "I think I have heard that before."
Mr. Gammon (courteously). "Your Lordship is much too well read to have missed it." (Thereupon Mr. Gammon, K.C., sat down.)
Judge (with a little snigger). "The only thing I am likely to miss is how our celestial knowledge is going to be especially advanced this afternoon. However, the curious nature of the case as presented possesses unlimited possibilities."
Ridgwell, having been called, walked with the utmost composure into Court and took his place in the witness-box. He looked very tiny, but very self-possessed, and smiled pleasantly at the Judge.
The Judge smiled pleasantly back at Ridgwell.