Some were for taking this course, and this was Steve’s wish; but old Mr. Bagby said, No. He had lost one case, he said, by allowing his client to act on a sentiment, and he would not risk another. Sentiment was sentiment, but law was law. He looked through his spectacles significantly at Major Welch. He believed in making every defence as you came to it. So, as Major Welch was sure he would receive the telegrams he was expecting from the North, and agreed with Mr. Bagby, this plan was adopted. It was decided to announce the marriage before the beginning of the trial, and take the postponement that would almost inevitably occur.
The secret was well kept, and, up to the last moment before the trial, there was no idea on Leech’s part of what had taken place. He had put on a new and longer black coat than usual, and a carefully tied white cravat; and, with his books and papers clasped to his breast, and his pale eyes downcast except when he lifted them covertly and cast a swift glance of conscious triumph around him, he moved about the court-green busy and noiseless. He was still haggard from his late illness, but there was an air of triumph even in the flapping of his loose coat and the line of his thin back.
But, notwithstanding Leech’s ignorance, an idea had got abroad that something unusual would happen. The lawyers for Captain Allen were still grave; but they wore a more confident air than they had exhibited yesterday. Andy Stamper was chirpy and facetious, and had a look of deeper mystery than he was wont to wear except when events were about to happen. It was known that Major Welch, who had just returned from the North, had been to the railway station after midnight, and had remained there until daybreak; and it was known, further, that Mrs. Welch and Miss Welch had left the tavern, and were staying at Mrs. Dockett’s. So there was something in the air. It was rumored that McRaffle had been sent away by Leech.
When Captain Allen walked across the green from the jail to the court-house, he wore a look of triumph which cheered the hearts of his friends. They crowded round him, to speak to him and shake his hand; and he laughed and chatted with them like a victor, not like a prisoner. One man called to him: “We came near taking you out of yonder last night, Captain; and if you just crook your finger, we’ll clean up the whole gang now. There’s several of the old Company around here yet.” Steve looked over at him and smiled.
“It’s all right, Michael. Don’t trouble yourself.” And the crowd pressed after him into the court-house, which was already jammed.
The case was called, and the Court asked the usual question whether counsel were ready. Leech replied meekly that the Government was ready, and glanced across at the array of counsel for the prisoner. After a moment’s hesitation, old Mr. Bagby slowly rose:
“If the Court please!” he said, “we are ready for the defence; but before entering on the case, there is a statement which I feel—which we feel—it is proper we should make, as we do not wish to surprise the Court, or to take any advantage of a state of facts which may cause a surprise to the other side.”
He turned to Leech, on whose face a look of wonder was beginning to dawn.
“I believe I see among the list of witnesses summoned for the prosecution the name of a witness—” (the old lawyer took up the book containing the list of witnesses, and scanned it as if he had not seen it before)—“of a young lady—ah—Miss Welch—who, I believe, has been summoned ah—who I understand has been summoned to prove—ah—to testify to certain statements alleged to have been made by our client, which are deemed material.” He looked across at Leech, who was staring at him in vague wonder. “Am I correct in this, Colonel Leech?” His voice was never so unctuous and his manner so civil as when he was preparing a deadly thrust.
“Umph, I don’t know. I believe there is a witness of that name, to prove some of the prisoner’s confessions. There are a number of others. We are not dependent on her at all,” said Leech, with insolent indifference.