“‘But——?’ queried the magistrate, whose nerves were obviously as much on tension as those of every one else in that court. “‘Speak, Joe—won’t you?’ appealed Alice Image pathetically. “‘But the mistress—Mrs. Keeson, sir,’ came from the groom in an almost inaudible whisper. ‘You know, ma’am,’ he added, while the gathering tears choked his voice, ‘I wouldn’t ’ave spoke. But she’s my sweetheart, ma’am; and I couldn’t bear that the shame should rest on her.’ “There was a moment’s deadly silence in that crowded court. Every one’s eyes wandered towards the pale face of Mrs. Keeson, which, however, though almost livid in colour, expressed nothing but the most boundless astonishment. As for Mr. Keeson, surprise, incredulity, then furious wrath at the slander, could be seen chasing one another upon his handsome face. “‘What lie is this?’ burst involuntarily from his lips, as his fingers closed more tightly upon the heavy riding-whip which he was holding. “‘Silence, please!’ said the Major with authority. ‘Now, Cockram, go on. You say Mrs. Keeson spoke to you. What did she say?’ “‘She seemed rather upset, sir,’ continued Cockram, still looking with humble apology across at his mistress, ‘for she only stammered something about: “Oh, it’s nothing, Cockram. I only wanted to speak to my son—er—to Mr. Harold—I——”’ “‘Harold?’ thundered Mr. Keeson, who was fast losing his temper. “‘I must ask you, Mr. Keeson, to be silent,’ said the Major. ‘Go on, Cockram.’ “And Cockram continued his narrative: “‘“Mr. Harold, ma’am?” I said. “What should ’e be doing ’ere in the stables at this time of night?” “Oh, nothing,” says she to me, “I thought I saw him come in here. I must have been mistaken. Never mind, Cockram; it’s all right. Good-night.” “‘I said good-night too, and then fell to wondering what Mr. ’Arold could have wanted prowling round the stables at this hour of the night. Just then the clock of St. Saviour’s struck four o’clock, and while I was still wondering I fell asleep again, and never awoke till six, when the mare was as sick as she could be. And that’s the whole truth, gentlemen; and I would never have spoke—for Mr. and Mrs. Keeson have always been good to me, and I’d have done anything to save them the disgrace—but Alice is goin’ to be my wife, and I couldn’t bear any shame to rest upon ’er.’ “When Cockram had finished speaking you might have heard a pin drop as Major Laverton asked Mrs. Keeson to step into the witness-box. She looked fragile and pale but otherwise quite self-possessed, as she quietly kissed the book and said in a very firm tone of voice: