"I had not."
"That is all," Littell said, and the witness returned to his place.
There was a period of expectation,—everyone was waiting for something, you could feel it in the air,—till after awhile Littell, apparently in response to the silent question, leaned forward with a little expression of surprise and said in the most even tones:
"That is all, your Honor, I have no further testimony to offer."
The effect of this announcement was immediate; the air of expectation was banished and astonishment took its place; people exchanged glances of surprise—almost consternation: "Was this all there was to be to the defence; why! there was no defence." You could almost read the words in the expressions of those about you, but Littell seemed undisturbed and after a moment's hesitation the Judge announced an hour's recess with the expectation that the case would be concluded at a late session.
It had been a long morning, for the proceedings had been late in beginning and the testimony of Winters had occupied several hours, and most of those within the rail, that is, those who were assured of regaining admission to the scene, hastened away upon the announcement to make the most of the opportunity for rest and refreshment. Not so with the spectators, however; there was scarcely a movement in that compact mass; for any of them to go was to resign their places to others—and the sacrifice was too great.
I looked toward Littell in the hope that he would join me at lunch, but his head was bent over some papers and if he was conscious of my glance he gave no sign, and so I went out alone.
When I returned he was still in the same attitude and I doubted if he had left his seat. One by one the others dropped in and resumed their places until, when the recess had expired and the session was resumed, all was in readiness to proceed.
There was some delay, however, while the State's officers engaged in earnest consultation, till the attention of the Judge being attracted thereby, he looked up and peering inquiringly over his glasses in their direction said: "Well, gentlemen, are we ready?" At this the junior arose and asked permission to recall the defendant. General surprise was manifest at this request, and Littell offered prompt objection to its concession. In a few words he called attention to the fact that there had been no such re-direct examination of the defendant as to afford occasion for re-cross, and further insisted that as the witness had been permitted to leave the stand he could not be recalled; and he added pointedly that the prisoner was too exhausted to stand the strain of further examination—which fact his brother lawyers knew and were seeking to turn to their advantage. When, at the conclusion of these words, the District Attorney arose with severe mien to reply himself in place of his junior, I knew there was coming the usual indignant protest of injured innocence, and I listened with indifference to its eloquent vindication and then to the argument that followed. It was the first tilt of the trial between counsel and as usual proved a source of entertainment to the spectators, but to me it was weariness. Still, I gave attention while the lawyer told why he wished to recall the witness and why he should be allowed to do so, and argued that he had never said he was through with the witness and had never closed his case—through all of which the junior nodded approval, and Littell looked bored and occasionally interrupted, and the Judge remained expressionless—and so it went on and meanwhile the daylight faded in the room and the gas was lighted and the atmosphere, already oppressive, became almost stifling in its heat, and the crowd moved restlessly and men yawned, and I listened and listened in dull consciousness till, feeling satisfied that in the end the Court would rule for the defence, I slipped quietly from the room. Littell's summing up could alone affect the final result now, and in the meanwhile the quiet and the cool air of the corridor were welcome.
As I paced up and down smoking a cigar and weighing in my mind the chances of the trial, I would occasionally get a momentary glimpse into the court-room as the door would swing open to permit the exit of some other weary spectator like myself, and in the hot glare of the gaslights the scene within would be visible through the doorway like a picture within a frame, the court with all its surrounding functionaries, the figure of the speaker gesticulating as he addressed the Judge, the form of the prisoner bowed and still between his guards, and in the foreground the dense throng of spectators, all in vivid relief.