ch a
wound on the head of Richard Kildene--the omission is remarkable in so
clever an actor. Miss Ballard also admits having bound up that wound
on the head of Richard Kildene,--but still she claims that this man is
her former fiance, Peter Craigmile, Jr. Gentlemen of the Jury, is it
possible that you can retire from this court room and not consider
carefully this point? Is it not plainly to be seen that the prisoner
thought to return and take the place of the man he has slain, and
through the testimony of the young lady prove himself free from the
thing of which he accuses himself in his confession, and so live
hereafter the life of a free man without stain--and at last to marry
the young girl he has loved, of whom he robbed his cousin, and for
whom he killed him, and counting on the undeniable resemblance to that
cousin, as proved in this court, to deceive not only the young lady
herself--but also this whole community--thus making capital out of
that resemblance to his own advantage and--"
"Never! Never!" cried a voice from the far corner of the court room.
Instantly there was a stir all over. The Elder jumped up and frowned
toward the place from whence the interruption came, and Milton Hibbard
lifted his voice and tried to drown the uproar that rose and filled
the room, but not one word he uttered could be heard.
Order was called, and the stillness which ensued seemed ominous. Some
one was elbowing his way forward, and as he passed through the crowd
the uproar began again. Every one was on his feet, and although the
prisoner stood and gazed toward the source of commotion he could not
see the man who spoke. He looked across to the place where Betty
Ballard had been sitting between her father and mother, and there he
saw her standing on a chair, forgetful of the throng around her and of
all the eyes that had been fixed upon her during her testimony in cold
criticism, a wonderful, transfiguring light in her great gray eyes,
and her arms stretched out toward some one in the surging crowd who
was drawing nearer to the prisoner's box. Her lips were moving. She
was repeating a name over and over. He knew the name she was repeating
soundlessly, with quivering lips, and his heart gave a great bound and
then stopped beating, and he fell upon his knees and bowed his head on
his hands as they clung to the railing in front of him.
Amalia, watching them all, with throbbing pulses and luminous
eyes, saw and understood, and he
|