Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy: Volumes 1 to 3 (of 3)Reade, Charles
General
Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy: Volumes 1 to 3 (of 3)
Reade, Charles
Bigamy -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century
_The Judge._ Prisoner, I do not quite see your drift; but God forbid
you should be hampered in your defense. Witness, by virtue of your
oath, reply directly. Did this pedlar offer you marriage that night
after he left the prisoner?
_Ryder._ My lord, he did.
_Prisoner._ And confided to you he had orders to kill Mr. Gaunt?
_Ryder._ Not he, madam: that was not the way to win _me._
_Prisoner._ What! did not his terrible purpose peep out all the time he
was making love to you?
No reply.
_Prisoner._ You had the kitchen to your two selves? Come, don't
hesitate.
_Ryder._ The other servants were gone to bed. You kept the man so late.
_Prisoner._ Oh, I mean no reflection on your prudence. You went out of
doors with your wooer; just to see him off?
_Ryder._ Not I. What for? I had nobody to make away with. I just opened
the door for him, bolted it after him, and went straight to my bedroom.
_Prisoner._ How long had you been there when you heard the cry for help?
_Ryder._ Scarce ten minutes. I had not taken my stays off.
_Prisoner._ If you and Thomas Hayes speak true, that gives half an hour
you were making love with the murderer after he left me. Am I correct?
The witness now saw whither she had been led, and changed her manner:
she became sullen, and watched an opportunity to stab.
_Prisoner._ Had he a mole on his brow?
_Ryder._ Not that I know of.
_Prisoner._ Why, where were your eyes, then, when the murderer saluted
you at parting?
Ryder's eyes flashed; but she felt her temper tried, and governed it
all the more severely. She treated the question with silent contempt.
_Prisoner._ But you pass for a discreet woman; perhaps you looked
modestly down when the assassin saluted you?
_Ryder._ If he saluted me, perhaps I did.
_Prisoner._ In that case you could not see his mole; but you must have
noticed his shoes. Were these the shoes he wore? Look at them well.
_Ryder_ (after inspecting them). I do not recognise them.
_Prisoner._ Will you swear these were not the shoes he had on?
_Ryder._ How can I swear that? I know nothing about the man's shoes.
If you please, my lord, am I to be kept here all day with her foolish
trifling questions?
_The Judge._ All day, and all night too, if Justice requires it. The
law is not swift to shed blood.
_Prisoner._ My lord and the gentlemen of the jury were here before you,
and will be kept here after you. Prithee attend. Look at that drawing
of Hernshaw Castle and Hernshaw Mere. Now take this pencil, and mark
your bedroom on the drawing.
The pencil was taken from the prisoner, and handed to Ryder. She waited
like a cat till it came close to her; then recoiled with an admirable
scream. "Me handle a thing hot from the hand of a murderess! It makes
me tremble all over."
This cruel stab affected the prisoner visibly. She put her hand to her
bosom, and with tears in her eyes faltered out a request to the judge
that she might sit down a minute.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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