you drive?' Silence.
'Where did you drive, Captain Answell? I must repeat my question.'
'I drove to Mr Hume's house in Grosvenor Street,' answered the witness.
For a second the implications of this did not penetrate into our minds. Even the Attorney-General, whatever his thoughts might have been, hesitated before he went on. The witness's air of pale candour was that of the 'engaging' Reginald Answell I had seen yesterday. -
'You drove to Mr Hume's house, you say?'
'Yes. I hoped you would not ask that.' He looked briefly towards the prisoner, who was staring at him. 'I told them I could do him no good. I understood I was not to be called as a witness.'
'You understand that it is your business to tell the truth? Very well. Why did you go to Mr Hume's house?'
'I don't know exactly. I thought it was a queer show, a very queer show. I did not intend to go in; I only intended to cruise past, wondering what was - was up.'
'At what time did you arrive at the house?' demanded the Attorney-General. Even Sir Walter Storm could not keep his voice quite level, in wondering himself what was up.
'At ten minutes past six.'
The judge looked up quickly. 'One moment, Sir Walter ...' He turned his little eyes on the witness. 'If you arrived there at ten minutes past six, that must have been at the same time as the prisoner?'
'Yes, my lord. As a matter of fact, I saw him go in.'
There are, I suppose, no degrees of a man's being motionless. Yet I had never seen H.M. convey such a mere impression of absolute stillness as he did then. He was sitting with a pencil in his hand, enormous under his black gown: and he did not even seem to breathe. In the dock, James Answell's chair suddenly scraped. The prisoner made a curious, wild gesture, like a boy beginning to put up his hand in a class-room, and then he checked himself.
'What did you do then?' asked the Attorney-General.
'I did not know what to do. I wondered what was happening, and why Jim was there. He had not spoken about coming here when I saw him last at Frawnend. I wondered if it concerned me, as having been a suitor of Miss Hume's. For what I did,' said the witness, drawing himself up, 'I do not apologize. Any human being would have done the same. I knew that there was an open passage leading down between Mr Hume's house and the house next door -'
Sir Walter Storm (be it recorded) seemed forced to clear his throat. He was not now like a man either examining or cross-examining, but one trying to get at the truth.
'Had you ever been to the house before, Captain Answell?'
'Yes, several times, although I had never met Mr Hume. I had been there with Miss Hume. Mr Hume did not approve of our acquaintanceship.'
'Go on, please.'
‘I -I -'
'You hear what counsel tells you,' said the judge, looking at him steadily. 'Continue your story.'
'I had heard a great deal of Mr Hume's 'study' from Miss Hume. I knew that if he entertained Jim anywhere, it would be there. I walked down the passage beside the house - with no motive in mind, I swear, except to get near them. Some way down the passage, on the right-hand side, I found a short flight of steps leading up to a glass- panelled door with a lace curtain over it. The door looks into the little passage outside Mr Hume's study. As I looked through the curtain, I saw the butler - who was taking Jim there - knock on the study door.'
The change in the air was as though a draught had begun to blow and scatter papers on counsel's table. 'What did you do then?' 'I - waited.' 'Waited?'
'Outside the door. I did not know quite what to do.' 'How long did you wait?'
'From about ten or twelve minutes past six until a little later than half-past six, when they broke in.'
'And you,' demanded Sir Walter, pointing, 'you, like others, have made no mention of this to anyone until this moment?'
'No. Do you think I wanted them to hang my cousin?'
'That is not a proper reply,' snapped the judge.
'I beg your Lordship's pardon. I - put it that I was afraid of the interpretation which would be placed on it.'
Sir Walter lowered his head a moment. 'What did you see while you were outside the glass-panelled door?'
'I saw Dyer come out about fifteen minutes past six. I saw Miss Jordan come down about half-past six, and knock at the door. I saw Dyer return then, and heard her call out to Dyer that they were fighting. And the rest of -'
'One moment. Between six-fifteen, when Dyer left the study, and six-thirty, when Miss Jordan came downstairs, did you see anyone approach the study door?'
‘I did not.'
'You had a good view of it?'
'Yes, the little passage has no light; but there was a light in the main hall.'
'From where you were standing outside that door -hand the witness up a plan - could you see the windows of the room?'
'Yes. They were immediately to my left, as you can see.'
'Did anyone approach those windows at any time?' 'No.'
'Could anyone have approached those windows without your knowledge?'
'No. I am sorry. I suppose I incur penalties for not telling this -'
I make a pause here, for there was a similar kind of blankness in the room. We have heard much of last- minute witnesses for the defence. This one, though called for the defence, was a last-minute witness for the prosecution who put the rope firmly round the prisoner's neck. James Answell's face was a colour it had not been at any time during the trial; and he was staring at his cousin in a vague and puzzled way.
But there was another kind of pause or change as well - that is, if it did not exist only in my own prejudiced mind. Up to this time, sallow-faced and stiff-lipped Reginald , had seemed (in a quiet way) inspired. He compelled belief. He brought to this case what it had heretofore lacked: an eyewitness to support circumstantial evidence. It may have been a certain turn in his last sentence. 'I suppose I shall incur penalties for not telling this -' which gave a slightly different glimpse. It did not last long. But it was as though a cog had failed to mesh, or a shutter had been drawn aside, or the same glutinous quality of hypocrisy had appeared in his speech which had appeared once before. The man was lying: I felt convinced of that. More, you could see he had gone into the box with the deliberate intention of lying in just that way. He had made an obvious attempt to draw Sir Walter Storm's attack –
But surely H.M. knew that? H.M. must have been prepared for it? At the moment H.M. was sitting in the same quiet way, his fists at his temples. And the point was its effect, not on H.M., but on the jury.
'I have no more questions,' said Sir Walter Storm. He seemed puzzled.
H.M. roused himself to a re-examination which was really a cross-examination of his own witness. And when H.M. did get up, he used words that are not common at the Old Bailey, and have not been since the days of Serjeant Arabin. But there was not only violence in it; there was a sort of towering satisfaction which made him seem about a foot taller.
‘I’ll give you just two seconds’ said H.M., 'to admit that you had an attack of delirium tremens, and that everything you said in that examination was a lie.'
'You will retract that, Sir Henry,' said the judge.-'You are entitled to question the witness on any matters that have arisen out of Sir Walter's cross-examination; but you will express yourself in a proper manner.'
'If yrludship pleases,' said H.M. 'It'll be understood why I'm takin' this line when I do question ... Captain ' Answell, do you want to retract any statement you've made?'
'No. Why should I?'
'All right,' said H.M. with massive unconcern. 'You saw all this through the glass panel of the door, did you?' 'Yes.'
'Was the door open ?' 'No. I didn't go inside.'
