At the close of her testimony she addressed him personally and said: “I didn’t want to come, but they made me. I know you didn’t mean to do it. You did not know Mr. Pennington was there.” At the mention of Mr. Pennington there was a low buzz in the room which Elithe heard and understood. Blushing scarlet, she continued: “I mean Mr. Percy. You did not know he was there. You fired low at some animal. I thought I heard a rustle in the leaves.” “By George, she’s hit the nail on the head,” Tom Drake exclaimed, springing to his feet and nearly upsetting an old lady sitting next to him and munching caraway seed. No one had followed Elithe more closely than Tom, whose springing up and exclamation were involuntary, and when some one behind him called out, “Sit down!” he sat down as quickly as he had risen, and no further attention was paid to him. All the interest was centred on Elithe, whose face shone with wonderful brightness and beauty as she turned from Paul to the judge and said: “He didn’t do it on purpose. He can explain, and you will let him go, won’t you?” Never was there a fairer pleader, or one more in earnest than Elithe. She didn’t know she was infringing upon the etiquette of legal procedure and no one enlightened her. The judge blew his nose, the jurors winked very hard, while Paul covered his face with his hands to hide the tears he could not keep back and which made him Paul Ralston again,—the man for whose release Elithe was asking so innocently. The direct examination was over, and she felt relieved, thinking she was through. “More! Must I tell more?” she asked pathetically, when given into the hands of a lawyer on the other side. He was a kind-hearted man and he pitied the young girl who had borne so much, but he must do his duty, and their only hope of success lay in weakening her testimony and show cause why she might think she saw what she did not see. He was one of the most adroit men for cross-questioning in the profession, approaching the citadel to be attacked cautiously, boring here, undermining there, confusing and bewildering until the witness so unfortunate as to fall into his hands contradicted himself and did not really know what he saw or heard. Paul knew his reputation and wondered how Elithe would come through the ordeal. She felt intuitively what was before her and braced herself for it. “Will some one bring me some more water?” she said, and there was a different ring in her voice. Three or four started to get the water, but Tom was ahead of them. He didn’t spill it this time, but whispered to her: “You’ve the very Old Harry to deal with. If you want to _forget_, it will be pardonable now.”