"I can testify to that," said Rumsey, now coming forward. "The whole story is so astounding, so unprecedented, that I am not the least surprised at your all being unable to make a just estimate of the true circumstances at the present moment. Nevertheless, Awdrey tells the simple truth. I have watched him as my patient for years. I have given his case my greatest attention. I consider it one of the most curious psychological studies which has occurred in the whole of my wide experience. Awdrey killed Horace Frere, and forgot all about it. The deed was doubtless done in a moment of strong irritation." "He was provoked to it," said Hetty, speaking for the first time. "It will be necessary that you put all that down in writing," said Rumsey, giving her a quick glance. "Squire, I begin to see a ghost of daylight. It is possible that you may be saved from the serious consequences of your own act, if it can be proved before a jury that you committed the terrible deed as a means of self-protection." "It was for that," said Hetty again. "I can tell exactly what I saw." The excited people who were listening to this narrative now began to move about and talk eagerly and rapidly. Rumsey alone altogether kept his head. He saw how ill Hetty was, and how all-important her story would be if there was any chance of saving Awdrey. It must be put in writing without delay. "Come and sit here," he said, taking the girl's hand and leading her to a chair. All the others shrank away from her, but Mrs. Everett, whose eyes were blazing with a curious combination of passionate anger and wild, exultant joy, came close up to her for a moment. "Little hypocrite--little spy!" she hissed. "Don't forget that you have committed perjury. Your sentence will be a severe one." "Hush," said Rumsey, "is this a moment--?" A look in his eyes silenced the widow--she shrank away near one of the windows to relieve her overcharged feelings in a burst of tears. "Sit here and tell me exactly what you saw," said Rumsey to Hetty. "Mr. Cuthbert, you are doubtless a magistrate?" "Bless my stars, I don't know what I am at the present moment," said the worthy Squire, mopping his crimson brow. "Try to retain your self-control--remember how much hangs on it. This young woman is very ill--it will be all important that we get her deposition before----" Rumsey paused; Hetty's eyes were fixed on his face, her lips moved faintly. "You may save the Squire after all if you tell the simple truth," said Rumsey kindly, bending toward her and speaking in a low voice. "Try and tell the simple truth. I know you are feeling ill, but you will be better afterward. Will you tell me exactly what happened? I shall put it down in writing. You will then sign your own deposition." "I'll tell the truth," said Hetty--"is it the case that if I tell just the truth I may save Squire?" "It is his only chance. Now begin."