“When he came into the dock he looked (so it seemed to me) altered since I had last seen him; more anxious and worn, that is, but yet composed and dignified.  Doubtless I am but a prejudiced witness; but his face to me lacks both the confusion and the effrontery of guilt.  He looks like one pressed by a heavy affliction, but enduring it with fortitude.  I think his appearance affected and astonished many in the court.  Those who were prepared to see a hardened ruffian, or, at best, a cowering criminal, must have been startled by the intellectual and noble style of his beauty, the grace and dignity of his carriage, and the modest simplicity of his behaviour.  I am but a doting old man; for I think on no evidence could I convict him in the face of those good eyes of his, to which sorrow has given a wistful look that at times is terrible; as if now and then the agony within showed its face at the windows of the soul.  Once only every trace of composure vanished—­it was when sweet Mistress Dorothy was called; then he looked simply mad.  I wonder—­but no! no!—­he did not commit this great crime,—­not even in a fit of insanity.

“Mr. A——­ is a very able advocate, and, in his cross-examination of the man Crosby and of Mistress Dorothy, did his best to atone for the cruel law which keeps the prisoner’s counsel at such disadvantage.  The counsel for the prosecution had pressed hard on my dear lady, especially in reference to those farewell words overheard by her, which seem to give the only (though that, I say, an incredible) clue to what remains the standing mystery of the event—­the missing hand.  Then Mr. A——­ rose to cross-examine.  He said—­

“’During that part of the quarrel when you were present, did the prisoner use any threats or suggestions of personal violence?’

“‘No.’

“’In the fragment of conversation that you overheard at the last, did you at the time understand the prisoner to be conveying taunts or threats?’

“‘No.’

“’How did you interpret the unaccountable anxiety on the prisoner’s part to shake hands with a man by whom he believed himself to be injured, and with whom he was quarrelling!’

“‘Mr. Manners’ tone was such as one uses to a spoilt child.  I believed that he was determined to avoid a quarrel at any price, in deference to my brother’s infirmity and his own promise to me.  He was very angry before Edmund came in; but I believe that afterwards he was shocked and sobered at the obviously irresponsible condition of my poor brother when enraged.  He had never seen him so before.’

“‘Is it true that Mr. Manners’ pocket-knife was in your possession at the time of the murder?’

“‘It is.’

“’Does your window look upon the “Honeysuckle Walk,” where the prisoner says that he spent the time between leaving your house and the finding of the body?’

“‘Yes.’

“’Was the prisoner likely to have any attractive associations connected with it, in reference to yourself?’