This time it was Doreen's turn to utter a stifled cry, while her fingers clasped more closely those of Terence. Had that wretch no compunction? Had he no mercy--this villain who had wriggled himself by specious arts into the confidence of honest men--this snake in the grass--this bravo who, smilingly looking in your face, could coldly choose the most fitting moment for stabbing you? It was Cassidy--actually Cassidy, who before her, before Lord Kilwarden, before Curran, could get upon the table to swear away the life of him whom he had called friend. Even the little advocate, whose faith in the innate goodness of human nature was not strong, was staggered. 'I've heard of assassination by sword and dagger,' he muttered; 'but here is a ruffian who would dip the Evangelists in blood!' The giant took the Testament and kissed it. 'Why make him swear at all?' scoffed Mr. Curran. 'Why let a murderer's touch pollute the purity of the Gospel? Well! if you will go through the mockery, let it be, I pray you, on the symbol of his profession--the knife.' Cassidy scowled down on the sturdy scoffer, and looked round at his comrades with an air of reproachful innocence, which was speedily answered by a burst of menace and a clash of arms from the yeomanry behind, accompanied by threatening looks and gestures. Mr. Curran, drawing himself up to the full of his small stature, fixed his eyes sternly on them, and exclaimed in a loud voice: 'You may assassinate me, gentlemen, but you shall never intimidate me!' This was a scandal. Things were going ill. Lord Carleton came to the rescue. 'Beware, Mr. Curran,' he said, 'lest you forfeit your gown. A little more of such unseemly language and I shall commit you.' 'Then we shall both have the consolation, my lord,' Curran retorted, with a bow, 'of reflecting that I'm not the worst thing you have committed.' Lord Carleton looked up with wonder at the skylight. What was the world coming to? He glanced at Lord Kilwarden, who leaned on his elbow, taking no share in the business, his eyes shaded with his hand. Counsel for prosecution played skilfully on his witness--an admirable witness, who merely answered questions, instead of blurting forth rash and inconvenient statements. Mr. Curran cross-examined him as cleverly, but with little effect. He could elicit nothing new or special. People were accustomed to find themselves handed over to the scrag-boy by their most intimate friends. Mr. Curran, indeed, was tedious to lay such stress on the point. The jury shuffled on their seats. Lord Carleton yawned. New candles were placed in the sockets by attentive ushers. At this rate it would certainly be morning before the affair was settled.