At this reply many of the audience exchanged approving glances.  They believed M. Latour had shown himself quite a match for Maitland in not falling easily into what they regarded as a neat little trap which had been set to prove his lack of chemical knowledge.  They attributed Maitland’s failure to further interrogate Latour upon his understanding of chemistry as evidence that he had met an equal.  To be sure, they were not quite clear in their own minds why Latour’s counsel should be at such pains to carefully examine a man who had already confessed, but they believed they knew when a lawyer had met his match, and felt sure that this was one such instance.  Clinton Browne, who sat in one of the front seats, seemed to find a deal more to amuse him in this incident than was apparent to me.  Some men have such a wonderful sense of humour!

Maitland continued: 

Q. When Mr. Darrow was murdered he sat in the centre of his parlour, surrounded by his daughter and invited guests.  Will you tell the Court how you entered and left this room without detection?

Again the witness hesitated and looked irresolutely, almost tremblingly, about him, but seemed finally to steady himself, as it were, upon Godin’s glance.  It’s a strange thing how the directness and intense earnestness of a strong man will pull the vacillation of a weak one into line with it, even as great ships draw lesser ones into their wakes.  The excited audience hung breathlessly upon Latour’s utterance.  At last they were to know how this miracle of crime had been performed.  Every auditor leaned forward in his seat, and those who were a trifle dull of hearing placed their hands to their ears, fearful lest some syllable of the riddle’s solution should escape them.  M. Latour remained dumb.  The Judge regarded him sternly and said: 

“Answer the question.  How did you enter the Darrow parlour?”

A. I—­I did—­I did not enter it.

Again a half-suppressed exclamation of surprise traversed the room.

Q. If you did not enter the room how did you plunge the hypodermic syringe into your victim’s neck?

It seemed for a moment as if the witness would utterly collapse, but he pulled himself together, as with a mighty effort, and fairly took our breath away with his astounding answer: 

A. I—­I did not strike Mr. Darrow with the syringe.

The audience literally gasped in open-mouthed amazement, while the Court turned fiercely upon Latour and said: 

“What do you mean by first telling us you killed Mr. Darrow by injecting poison into his circulation from a specially prepared hypodermic syringe, and then telling us that you did not strike him with this syringe.  What do you mean, sir?  Answer me!”

A sudden change came over M. Latour.  All his timidity seemed to vanish in a moment, as he drew himself up to his full height and faced the Judge.  It seemed to me as if till now he had cherished a hope that he might not be forced to give the details of his awful crime, but that he had at last concluded he would be obliged to disclose all the particulars, and had decided to manfully face the issue.