"You are getting upon dangerous ground," said the chairman. "What the witness thought, or when he ceased to think it, is not evidence." "Another point, then," said Carlton: "do you remember the appearance of the lamps?" "Yes." "What was it?" "They were crooked." "Did you notice any paraffin spilt about?" "Yes, when my attention was called to it." "Where was this paraffin?" "On the pews that were catching fire." "And who called your attention to it?" "You did yourself, sir." "I did myself!" repeated Carlton, struggling with his tone. "That will do for that. I am going back for a moment to those suspicions of yours. Have you never mentioned them to a human being?" "Yes, sir, I have." "As things of the past?" "As things of the past." "When was it that you first spoke of them?" "Last Friday--the eighteenth, sir." "And did you then speak of your own accord, or were you questioned?" "I was questioned." "As the first man to reach the burning church?" "Yes, sir." "Take care!" cried Wilders. "That was a leading question." "It is the last," replied Carlton. "I have finished with the witness. I would take this opportunity, however, of apologising to your worships for the various errors and excesses which I have committed, and may still commit, in my ignorance and inexperience of the law, and my indignation at the charge. In this respect, and this alone, I crave the indulgence of the bench, and beg leave to rectify one of my mistakes. I spoke in haste when I said, yesterday, that I had no questions to ask the witness Fuller. I desire, with your worships' permission, to have that witness recalled." The chairman was rather sharp: subsequent evidence might make the recall of witnesses a necessity, but the lost opportunities of counsel, or of accused persons conducting their own defence, were an altogether insufficient reason. However, the man was in court, and the application would be allowed. "I appreciate the privilege," said Carlton, "and promise that it shall not detain us many moments." He was becoming as fluent and adroit as a past practitioner; in the pauses of the fight he felt ashamed of his facility, a haunting sense that it was indecent in him to defend himself at all. Yet he was one against many; and, in this matter, an innocent man. Fight he must, and that with all the skill and spirit in his power. His liberty, his self-respect; his one remaining chance, object, and desire in life; nay, his very life itself was at stake with these. It was no time for dwelling upon the past. The sin that he had committed was one thing; the crime that he had not committed was another. It was his duty to be just to himself. Yet this was how he treated himself, whenever he had time to think! He resolved to give himself fairer play than he seemed likely to receive at the hands of others; and his resolve declared itself in the ringing voice that shocked not a few who heard it, having found him guilty already in their hearts.