"I remained with the Van Deust brothers, taking supper with them, receiving their signatures to some papers, and holding a consultation with them in regard to the investment of certain monies belonging to them jointly, until, as nearly as I can now remember, about fifteen minutes before nine o'clock in the evening. They pressed me to remain all night, which I declined to do, as I had business of importance to attend to in New York, for other clients, and was desirous of returning as speedily as possible to the city. When I took my departure Jacob Van Deust accompanied me to where my horse was hitched in the lane, and we stood there talking a few minutes. There was no wind stirring, and the mosquitoes annoyed me very much. In switching them from the back of my neck with my handkerchief I dropped it accidentally, and the horse chanced to step upon it, trampling it into the dirt of the lane. Seeing that it had been rendered unfit for present use, Mr. Jacob Van Deust was kind enough to offer me the loan of a clean one which he had in his pocket, and I thankfully accepted it. I mounted my horse, said good-by, and set out upon a new road that Mr. Van Deust—the younger brother, I mean—had recommended to me as shortening considerably the distance I had to travel.
"I had ridden, as nearly as I can judge, about a mile, or perhaps only seven-eighths of a mile, when, in passing through a cutting that depressed the roadway to a depth of nine or ten feet below the surface of the ground on either side, I found, lying upon the ground and groaning, a young man."
"Do you recognize that man among those here present?"
"I do, sir. It was the prisoner at the bar. He informed me that having been unacquainted with the existence of that new road, he had just sustained a severe fall into it. His injuries seemed to corroborate his statement, at least so far as the severity of his fall was concerned. His scalp was badly cut in at least two places, and he was bleeding profusely.
"When I assisted him to rise he found that one of his ankles—the left, I believe—was so seriously sprained that he could not bear to rest his weight upon it, and could not walk a step without assistance. I used the clean handkerchief which was in my possession, together with one he had, to bind up his head and stanch the flow of blood, after which I supported him to the beach, where he hoped, he said, to find a small vessel to take him to New Haven, where he resided. But he was only able to move very slowly, and when we arrived at the water's edge no vessel was in sight. While we were debating what was best to be done with him, under the circumstances, a small fishing-boat came within a short distance of the shore, and the person directing its movements responded to his call. He offered the person in the boat—who appeared to be an old man, accompanied by a boy—the sum of ten dollars to take him over to New Haven, which offer was accepted. I assisted him to enter the boat, and, when it had sailed away returned to where I had left my horse tied to tree, remounted him, and prosecuted my journey homeward."
During the giving of this evidence, a stillness prevailed in the court-room as if the speaker had been alone, and when his voice ceased there was such an enormous sigh from the crowded audience as if all were at once exhaling the pent-up breath they had not dared to free before for fear of losing a word of what he said. Five jurymen and the prosecuting attorney looked equally disgusted.
"At what hour that night did you last see the prisoner?" asked Mr. Dunn.
"At twenty-seven minutes past ten o'clock."
"In a small boat, sailing from the shore?"