"I'm sorry, Mrs. Challoner, that we couldn't do better with our facts. It seems to me to be the weakest defence I have ever seen put up in any case. Indeed, it seems to me we have no defence at all."
But somewhat to his astonishment this remark was received by Miriam Challoner with that same degree of confidence that had characterised her attitude all through the trial. On her face was a certain unexplainable something which not only he had noted but which the people had noted, the men at the press-table had noted, and commented upon freely in their copy—a glow that had never faded from the eyes of the woman, a flush upon her cheek that had never paled, and which said more plainly than words that she was certain of the acquittal of her husband.
"Devilish fine actress!" Thorne thought to himself, for such optimism in a case like this was wholly beyond his comprehension; and it was with a certain feeling of admiration that he heard her whisper with a reassuring smile:—
"You're making a glorious fight, Mr. Thorne; you're bound to succeed."
And indeed, such was her marvellous hopefulness, that it succeeded in enheartening him, and was reflected in his illustrations to the jury when dwelling at some length on the many fine points in the character of the accused. He was particularly happy in impressing upon his hearers that Challoner was a man with a most peculiar temperament and mental bias; that if Challoner had taken the life of Colonel Hargraves, it was only after the man's soul and mind had eaten poison from the hands of his enemy—Colonel Hargraves.
Of the life and character of that gentleman, he had little to add to what was already known, and was seemingly content to dismiss him with:—
"The least said of him the better, now that he is gone."
Thorne paused.
Suddenly he assumed a dramatic pose, and now turning toward a beautiful and fashionably gowned young woman with a bar of sunlight streaming down her face, who occupied a seat underneath the third high window in the court-room, he riveted his gaze on her, all eyes following in that direction.
"There," he said, his voice sinking to a whisper, but a whisper that could be heard all over the court-room, "is the woman in the case—the real culprit! A temptress! A vampire! A Circe! A woman who has made a mess of the lives of two men, and only God knows how many others! A woman who played the game to her own selfish ends!... And here you have the result!"