The prisoner bowed his head and wept. The court were stricken with astonishment.
Fanny was led towards the witness-box; there was a buzz of admiration and of pity as she passed along. Captain Hartley beheld her—he clasped his hands together. "Gracious heavens! my own Fanny!" he exclaimed aloud.
He sprang forward—he stood by her side—her head fell on his bosom. "My lord!—O my lord!" he cried, wildly, addressing the judge, "I doubt—I disbelieve, my own evidence. There must be some mistake. I cannot be the murderer of the man who saved me—of my Fanny's father!"
The most anxious excitement prevailed through the court: every individual was moved, and, on the bench, faces were turned aside to conceal a tear.
The judge endeavoured to restore order.
The shock of meeting with Augustus, in such a place and in such an hour, though she knew not that he was her father's accuser, added to her agony, was too much for Fanny, and, in a state of insensibility, she was carried out of the court.
Harry's servant-girl was examined; and, although she swore that, on the night on which the murder was committed, he had not been out of his own house, yet, in her cross-examination, she admitted that he frequently was out during the night without her knowledge, and that he might have been so on the night in question. Other witnesses were called, who spoke to the excellent character of the prisoner, and to his often-proved courage and humanity; but they could not prove that he had not been engaged in the affray in which the murder had been committed.
Captain Hartley strove anxiously to undo the impression which his evidence had already produced; but it was too late.
The judge addressed the jury, and began to sum up the evidence. He remarked upon the knife with which the deed was perpetrated, being proved and acknowledged to be the property of the prisoner—of its being seen in his hand on the same day, and of his admitting the fact—on the resemblance of the figure to that of the individual who was seen to strike the blow, and on his inability to prove that he was not that individual. He was proceeding to notice the singular scene that had occurred, with regard to the principal witness and the prisoner, when a shout was heard from the court-door, and a gentleman, dressed as a clergyman, pressed through the crowd, and reaching the side of the prisoner, he exclaimed, "My lord, and gentlemen of the jury, the prisoner, Harry Teasdale, is innocent!"
"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Captain Hartley.