East Lynne [236]
else, and she would not be found fault with, as though she was not fit to take care of herself."
"That is nothing to the purpose. Were any others acquainted with this Thorn?"
"I should imagine the elder sister, Joyce, was. And the one who knew him best of all of us was young Richard Hare."
/Old/ Richard Hare, from his place on the bench, frowned menacingly at an imaginary Richard.
"What took Thorn into the wood so often?"
"He was courting Afy."
"With an intention of marrying her?"
"Well--no," cried Mr. Ebenezer, with a twist of the mouth; "I should not suppose he entertained any intention of the sort. He used to come over from Swainson, or its neighborhood, riding a splendid horse."
"Whom did you suppose him to be?"
"I supposed him to be moving in the upper ranks of life. There was no doubt of it. His dress, his manners, his tone, all proclaimed it. He appeared to wish to shun observation, and evidently did not care to be seen by any of us. He rarely arrived until twilight."
"Did you see him there on the night of Hallijohn's murder?"
"No. I was not there myself that evening, so could not have seen him."
"Did a suspicion cross your mind at any time that he may have been guilty of the murder?"
"Never. Richard Hare was accused of it by universal belief, and it never occurred to me to suppose he had not done it."
"Pray, how many years is this ago?" sharply interrupted Mr. Rubiny, perceiving that the witness was done with.
"Let's see!" responded Mr. Ebenezer. "I can't be sure as to a year without reckoning up. A dozen, if not more."
"And you mean to say that you can swear to Sir Francis Levison being that man, with all these years intervening?"
"I swear that he is the man. I am as positive of his identity as I am of my own."
"Without having seen him from that time to this?" derisively returned the lawyer. "Nonsense, witness."
"I did not say that," returned Mr. Ebenezer.
The court pricked up its ears. "Have you seen him between then and now?" asked one of them.
"Once."
"Where and when?"
"It was in London, about eighteen months after the period of the trial!"
"What communication had you with him?"
"None at all. I only saw him--quite by chance."
"And whom did you suppose him to be then--Thorn or Levison?"
"Thorn, certainly. I never dreamt of his being Levison until he appeared here, now, to oppose Mr. Carlyle."
A wild, savage curse shot through Sir Francis's heart as he heard the words. What demon had possessed him to venture his neck into the lion's den? There had been a strong hidden power holding him back from it, independent of his dislike to face Mr. Carlyle; how could he be so mad as to disregard it? How? Could a man go from his doom? Can any?
"You may have been mistaken, witness, as to the identity of the man you saw in London. It may not have been the Thorn you had known here."
Mr. Ebenezer James smiled a peculiar smile. "I was not mistaken," he said, his tone sounding remarkably significant. "I am upon my oath."
"Call Aphrodite Hallijohn."
The lady appeared, supported by her friend, the policeman. And Mr. Ebenezer James was desired by Mr. Ball to leave the court while she gave her evidence. Doubtless he had his reasons.
"What is your name?"
"Afy," replied she, looking daggers at everybody, and sedulously keeping her back turned upon Francis Levison and Otway Bethel.
"You name in full, if you please. You were not christened 'Afy'?"
"Aphrodite Hallijohn. You all know my name as well as I do. Where's the use of asking useless questions?"
"Swear the witness," spoke up Mr. Justice Hare. The first word he had uttered.
"I won't be sworn," said Afy.
"You must be sworn," said Mr. Justice Herbert.
"But I say I won't," repeated Afy.
"Then we must commit you to prison for contempt of court."
There was no mercy in his tone, and Afy turned white. Sir John Dobede interposed.
"Young woman, had /you/ a hand in the murder of your father?"
"I?" returned Afy, struggling with passion, temper, and excitement. "How
"That is nothing to the purpose. Were any others acquainted with this Thorn?"
"I should imagine the elder sister, Joyce, was. And the one who knew him best of all of us was young Richard Hare."
/Old/ Richard Hare, from his place on the bench, frowned menacingly at an imaginary Richard.
"What took Thorn into the wood so often?"
"He was courting Afy."
"With an intention of marrying her?"
"Well--no," cried Mr. Ebenezer, with a twist of the mouth; "I should not suppose he entertained any intention of the sort. He used to come over from Swainson, or its neighborhood, riding a splendid horse."
"Whom did you suppose him to be?"
"I supposed him to be moving in the upper ranks of life. There was no doubt of it. His dress, his manners, his tone, all proclaimed it. He appeared to wish to shun observation, and evidently did not care to be seen by any of us. He rarely arrived until twilight."
"Did you see him there on the night of Hallijohn's murder?"
"No. I was not there myself that evening, so could not have seen him."
"Did a suspicion cross your mind at any time that he may have been guilty of the murder?"
"Never. Richard Hare was accused of it by universal belief, and it never occurred to me to suppose he had not done it."
"Pray, how many years is this ago?" sharply interrupted Mr. Rubiny, perceiving that the witness was done with.
"Let's see!" responded Mr. Ebenezer. "I can't be sure as to a year without reckoning up. A dozen, if not more."
"And you mean to say that you can swear to Sir Francis Levison being that man, with all these years intervening?"
"I swear that he is the man. I am as positive of his identity as I am of my own."
"Without having seen him from that time to this?" derisively returned the lawyer. "Nonsense, witness."
"I did not say that," returned Mr. Ebenezer.
The court pricked up its ears. "Have you seen him between then and now?" asked one of them.
"Once."
"Where and when?"
"It was in London, about eighteen months after the period of the trial!"
"What communication had you with him?"
"None at all. I only saw him--quite by chance."
"And whom did you suppose him to be then--Thorn or Levison?"
"Thorn, certainly. I never dreamt of his being Levison until he appeared here, now, to oppose Mr. Carlyle."
A wild, savage curse shot through Sir Francis's heart as he heard the words. What demon had possessed him to venture his neck into the lion's den? There had been a strong hidden power holding him back from it, independent of his dislike to face Mr. Carlyle; how could he be so mad as to disregard it? How? Could a man go from his doom? Can any?
"You may have been mistaken, witness, as to the identity of the man you saw in London. It may not have been the Thorn you had known here."
Mr. Ebenezer James smiled a peculiar smile. "I was not mistaken," he said, his tone sounding remarkably significant. "I am upon my oath."
"Call Aphrodite Hallijohn."
The lady appeared, supported by her friend, the policeman. And Mr. Ebenezer James was desired by Mr. Ball to leave the court while she gave her evidence. Doubtless he had his reasons.
"What is your name?"
"Afy," replied she, looking daggers at everybody, and sedulously keeping her back turned upon Francis Levison and Otway Bethel.
"You name in full, if you please. You were not christened 'Afy'?"
"Aphrodite Hallijohn. You all know my name as well as I do. Where's the use of asking useless questions?"
"Swear the witness," spoke up Mr. Justice Hare. The first word he had uttered.
"I won't be sworn," said Afy.
"You must be sworn," said Mr. Justice Herbert.
"But I say I won't," repeated Afy.
"Then we must commit you to prison for contempt of court."
There was no mercy in his tone, and Afy turned white. Sir John Dobede interposed.
"Young woman, had /you/ a hand in the murder of your father?"
"I?" returned Afy, struggling with passion, temper, and excitement. "How