“’The defendant certainly thought him his friend, and he’—­the defendant—­’therefore did disclose all this to him.  Gentlemen, one has only to say further that if this point of honor was to be so sacred as that a man who comes by knowledge of this sort from an offender was not to be at liberty to disclose it the most atrocious criminals would every day escape punishment; and therefore it is that the wisdom of the law knows nothing of that point of honor.’”

Miss Beekman listened politely.

“I am sorry,” she replied with dignity.  “I shall not change my mind.  I refuse to answer the question, and—­and you can do whatever you like with me.”

“Do you understand that you are in contempt of this court?  Do you intend to show contempt for this court?” he demanded wrathfully.

“I do,” answered Miss Althea.  “I have contempt for this court.”

A titter danced along the benches and some fool in the back of the room clapped his hands.

Judge Babson’s face grew hard and his eyes narrowed to steel points.

“The witness stands committed for contempt,” he announced bitingly.  “I direct that she be confined in the city prison for thirty days and pay a fine of two hundred and fifty dollars.  Madam, you will go with the officer.”

Miss Althea rose while the ghost of the Signer encircled her with his arm.

Mr. Tutt was already upon his feet.  He knew that the ghost of the Signer was there.

“May I ask the court if the witness, having been committed for the contemptuous conduct of which she is obviously guilty, may remain in your chambers until adjournment, in order that she may arrange her private affairs?”

“I will grant her that privilege,” agreed Judge Babson with internal relief.  “The request is quite reasonable.  Captain Phelan, you may take the witness into my robing room and keep her there for the present.”

With her small head erect, her narrow shoulders thrown back, and with a resolute step as befitted the descendant of a long line of ancestors Miss Althea passed behind the jury box and disappeared.

The twelve looked at one another dubiously.  Both Babson and O’Brien seemed nervous and undecided.

“Well, call your next witness,” remarked the judge finally.

“But I haven’t any more witnesses!” growled O’Brien.  “And you know it almighty well, you idiot!” he muttered under his breath.

“If that is the people’s case I move for the defendant’s immediate discharge,” cried Mr. Tutt, jumping to his feet.  “There is no evidence connecting him with the crime.”

McGurk, furious, sprang toward the bar.

“See here!  Wait a minute!  Hold on, judge!  I can get a hundred witnesses—­”

“Sit down!” shouted one of the officers, thrusting him back.  “Keep quiet!”

Babson looked at O’Brien and elevated his forehead.  Then as O’Brien gave a shrug the judge turned to the expectant jury and said in apologetic tones: