“That is direct proof,” said Justice Millet, with a glance at his brother on the bench. “After this there can be no doubt in any mind.”
“Peradventure the prisoner can explain how he came by the document,” said Justice Hide.
“Have you anything to say as to how you became possessed of it?”
“Nothing.”
“Will you offer the court no explanation?”
“None.”
“Would the answer criminate you?”
No reply.
For Ralph the anguish of years was concentrated in that moment. He might say where he was on the night of the murder, but then he had Sim only for witness. He thought of Robbie Anderson—why was he not here? But no, Robbie was better away; he could only clear him of this guilt by involving his father. And what evidence would avail against the tangible witness of the warrant? He had preserved that document with some vague hope of serving Sim, but here it was the serpent in the breast of both.
“This old man,” he said,—his altered tone startled the listeners,—“this old man,” he said, pointing to Sim at his side, “is as innocent of the crime as the purest soul that stands before the White Throne.”