Dame Care Part 28

Elsbeth, leaning on her father's arm, left the court.

Now the little man with the sharply-cut features rose--he sat before the accused, and had been playing during the whole time with a bunch of keys--and said,

"I ask the president to adjourn the case for five minutes, as the presence of the witness concerned in this matter is of importance."

Paul sent a shy glance at this man.

The court adjourned.

The five minutes were an eternity. Paul was allowed to sit down in the witness-box. His father continued staring at him with fury in his eyes, but he made no sign that he wished to speak to him.

Elsbeth was brought back into the court, pale as death, and Paul stepped forward again.

"I warn you again," the president began, "to be in all things strictly truthful, for you know that each word of your statement is uttered under oath."

"I know it," said Paul.

"But you have the right, as you know, to refuse any statement if you fear that the same would bring down any punishment upon yourself or your family. Will and can you make use of this right now, as you did before?"

"No."

He spoke in a firm, clear voice, for he had the certainty that Elsbeth's honor would be irremediably lost if he were silent now.

"But if my oath is perjury?" he heard his conscience whisper immediately after; but it was too late.

"Oh! what did you want to do in the garden?" the president asked.

"I wanted--to make amends for the sin committed against Douglas in my father's house."

A murmur of disappointment and unbelief went through the court.

"And for that reason you roamed about in the strange garden?"

"I had a longing to meet somebody, of whom I might have asked pardon."

"And for that you chose the night?"

"I could not sleep."

"And you were driven there by your restlessness?"

"Yes."

"Did you meet anybody in the garden?"

"No."

"Have you been there on any former occasion at the same hour?"

A long pause, then another "no" came from his mouth, this time softly and hesitatingly, as if wrung from his conscience.

The constraint which weighed on every one began to lessen, the president turned over his papers, and Elsbeth gazed across at him with big l.u.s.treless eyes.

"Where were you when you first saw the glow of the flames?"

"About twenty steps away from the manor-house of Helenenthal."

"And what did you do then?"

"I was much frightened, and hastened back immediately to my father's farm."

"In what manner did you leave the garden?"

"I climbed over the garden fence."

"So you did NOT open the door which leads from the garden to the yard?"

"No."

"And didn't you pa.s.s the front of the house?"

"No."

A new tumult arose in court. The little man with the bunch of keys rose and said,

"I must ask the president to question Miss Douglas again--regarding what she says she heard that night."

"If you please, Miss Douglas," said the president.

With a long look at Paul she rose. They now stood close together in the wide, crowded court, as if they belonged to each other.

"Where did the steps vanish to which you heard when the glow of the fire woke you?"

"Towards the yard," she replied, softly--hardly audible.

"And did you distinctly hear the handle of the garden gate rattle?"

"Yes."

"Consider well if you may not have been mistaken."

"I was not mistaken," she answered, softly but firmly.

"Thank you. You may sit down."

She went back to her seat with uncertain steps. Since that fatal "no"

her eye was riveted on Paul. She seemed to have forgotten by that time all around her.

"When you got over the garden fence, which way did you take?" the president continued, turning to Paul.