The curate had not been at first subpoenaed. But so urgent had become the need of more testimony that the defence had decided at the last moment to put Turner into the box. The latter looked not a little nervous. Truth to tell, the situation was one of horror to his immaculate soul. He did not fancy being mixed up in criminal trials, as he subsequently put it. "Now, Mr Turner," went on Mr Windgate, after a few preliminary questions. "I believe you took part in the search for Miss Olive Ingelow, who was cut off by the tide on this coast some two-and-a-half years ago?" "Yes, I did." "And you found her?" "We were so fortunate." "Kindly tell the Court how and where you found her." Turner complied in as few words as possible. "Now, did it strike you that this stranger you mention--this person who rescued the young lady, might have been Mr Roland Dorrien disguised?" "Never." "Never? Then or since?" "Neither then nor since," answered Turner decidedly. "Did you ever hear that it struck anybody?" "Never." "Yet you knew Roland Dorrien well?" "Fairly well." "Dr Ingelow, the lady's father, took part in the search, did he not?" "Yes." "And he remarked no likeness?" "Not that I am aware of." "You saw a great deal of Dr Ingelow at that time?" "Yes." "And he never mentioned any such suspicion?" "Never." "One moment, Mr Turner," said the Crown counsel, rising to cross-examine. "This lady is now the prisoner's wife, is she not?" "She is." "Didn't it strike you as rather--well, queer--the stranger Durnford suddenly leaving you all in the way he did?" "A little perhaps. But we supposed he knew his own business best. And some people _are_ queer." "A--quite so--Mr Turner, I quite agree with you--they are," said Mr Benham waggishly. "That will do, thank you." "That's my defence, my lord," said Mr Windgate. CHAPTER FORTY SIX. LIFE OR DOOM? The prisoner, re-entering after the adjournment for lunch, found himself idly wondering whether, when next he should pass through the dock gate, it would be as a free man or as one whose days were numbered. Then, amid the intense hush that followed on his appearance, he heard his counsel opening his address to the jury, which, put into a good humour by a few deft if stereotyped compliments, began to think that after all there might be a good deal to be said on the side of the defence. Before brushing aside the flimsy testimony which seemed to tell against the accused, for the prosecution had relied upon quantity to counterbalance an utter absence of quality, began Mr Windgate, he would show what manner of man it was whom they were asked to convict of the gravest crime known to the law. It was all very well for the prosecution to contend that a gentleman in his client's position was as liable to commit crime as--say the historic Mr William Sikes. His own experience--perhaps fully equal to that of his learned brother opposite--was wholly against any such theory.