Once more the atmosphere of the court grew hostile. Watching the jury, Bonnie could see that his enemy had almost turned them. Impassivity settled like a mask on the faces of the nine men. The two spinsters gazed awe-struck at the big weapon in the seafarer's big hand. Even the red-hatted matron, whom he had decided a moment since definitely favorable, shook her head twice as though in new doubt. Then, turning from the jury-box to the dock, Ronnie was aware of his client's eyes. The eyes--Aliette's very own---looked pitiful. Imagination told him that they were afraid, that at last the woman realized her danger. He tried to signal to her; but she took no notice of his signal. "That will be enough, I think," gloated Brunton; and, nervously, Ronnie started his task of cross-examination. "You've known Robert Fielding for some time?" "About seven years." "Is he, in your opinion, a violent man? The kind of man who would commit a murder?" "No." "Or," Ronnie's nervous voice dropped two full tones, "the sort of man who would incite some one else to commit murder?" "No." "When Robert Fielding told you that he was in love with his cousin--that was a good many years ago, wasn't it?--did you understand that there was anything guilty in that love? That his cousin was his mistress?" "No. I did not." The sailor's eyes--blue as the barrister's own--kindled. "As far as you know, had misconduct taken place between Robert Fielding and his cousin?" "I don't know anything about that." "Was Lucy Towers in the room during any part of your conversation with Robert Fielding?" "No." "Has Robert Fielding ever suggested to you, _since_ his cousin's marriage, that he would like to get her away from her husband?" "No." The witness hesitated. "Not exactly." "What do you mean by 'not exactly'?" "Well, it didn't seem to me that Bob'd be exactly sorry if anything happened to Towers." Brunton chuckled audibly. The chuckle enraged Ronnie. For a question or two he fenced aimlessly with his witness's honesty. Then suddenly he decided to try and turn that very honesty against his opponent. "Tell me," he said suavely, "did you gather from the way in which Robert Fielding habitually spoke of him that the dead man, William Towers, was of a very violent disposition?" "Well, more or less I suppose I did." "And would it be too much if I suggested to you that it was solely because of her husband's violent disposition that Robert Fielding thought his cousin should have either some one to protect her, or some means of protecting herself? That he had that particular thought in his mind, and that thought only, when he showed you this revolver?" The sailor seemed to find some difficulty in understanding the suggestions; and even after Ronnie had repeated them piecemeal, he refused, sailor-like, to commit himself.