"I thought you wanted to get at the truth?" "So we do. But I have warned you. Have you any questions to ask the witness?" "Not one; he is equally correct in his statements and his suppositions." Thomas Ivey was then sworn, amid the hush of deepening interest, and gave his evidence in a manly, straightforward, level-headed fashion, that added its own weight to what he said for good or ill; and his testimony told both ways. He described the scene in the church on his arrival; the character of the fire, and the attitude of Mr. Carlton; both of which, he admitted (in answer to a question from the chairman), had struck him as suspicious at the first glance. "But did you see him _do_ anything that you thought suspicious?" asked the well-meaning Mr. Preston. "I did, sir." "What was that?" from the chairman. "He threw something into the flames. But I couldn't see what that was." "Did you afterwards find out?" "No, sir." Once more the prisoner attracted every eye. It was felt that he would make another of his reckless and voluntary declarations. But this time he was silent enough; and though the evidence now took a turn in his favour, that silence left its mark. Everybody knew how the clergyman had risked his life, when it was too late, to save the church. But the story had not yet been told as Mr. Preston contrived to elicit it from the lips of Tom Ivey. The Rector of Linkworth had been from home when the fire took place. There was nothing unnatural in his desire for details, nor did he put an improper question. The chairman, however, betrayed more than a little impatience, while the junior justice, on the other hand, displayed excitement of another kind, and actually put in his word at last. "Do you mean to say you let him throw the water single-handed," said he, "while the rest of you stayed outside?" "There was no stopping him, sir," said Ivey. "He would have all the danger to himself." "Then you could not see what use he made of the water?" suggested the chairman, dryly. "No, sir," said Tom; "I could only see the steam." And his tone was still more dry. Wilders looked at the clock as the examination concluded. The case had not been taken till the afternoon; it was now nearly five. Wilders beckoned and spoke to the inspector, subsequently addressing the prisoner in his coldest tone. "I understand that this is the last witness to be called against you," said he. "Do you propose to cross-examine him?" "I do." "And may I ask if you have any witnesses to call for your defence?" "I may have one."