But Morris Benstead caught him by the arm, and pointing to a seat, said, "You must remain here, if you please, sir: I am an officer." The rector cast a look of unutterable dismay upon the policeman, and fell upon the bench in a state of mind bordering on distraction. Meantime the case proceeded. The counsel for the prosecution said that he should like to ask Rachel Bennet a few questions. That witness accordingly returned to the box. "Why did you not empower some one to produce that letter when the prisoner was examined before the magistrate?" inquired the prosecuting counsel. "Because, sir, I did not conceive that it could be of any use. I never for a moment suspected that any other person besides the one accused could have taken away my poor sister's life. My husband proposed to send the letter to the magistrate; but as my sister had written to me in strict confidence, I would not consent to that step. And now, since you have asked me, sir, I will tell you what I really _did_ think; and God forgive me if I have been unjust." "We do not want to hear what you thought," exclaimed the prosecuting counsel. "You may stand down." "No," cried the barrister for the defence: "as we are upon the subject, we _will_ have the witness's impressions." "I really thought, sir," continued the woman, "that the Katherine Wilmot alluded to was perhaps no better than she should be, and had become more intimate with Mr. Tracy than my poor sister suspected. That, I thought, was the reason why she had poisoned my sister in order to get her out of the way, and for herself to remain at Mr. Tracy's house. But I did not think that Mr. Tracy himself had any hand in the murder; and so I did not see the good of producing a letter which would only expose Mr. Tracy." [Illustration] "Now you may stand down," said the counsel for the prisoner: then, in a loud tone, he called, "John Smithers!" And Gibbet entered the witness-box. His first glance was towards the dock; and that look, rapid, and imperceptible to others, conveyed a world of hope to the bosom of poor Katherine. Richard Markham was at a loss to conceive what testimony the hump-back could bring forward in the prisoner's favour. Every one present felt the deepest interest in the turn given to the proceedings. The hump-back stood upon a stool that there was in the witness-box; and even then his head was alone visible. His hideous countenance, pale and ghastly through his intense feelings for Katherine's situation, was nevertheless animated with confidence and hope. Amidst a dead silence of awe-inspiring solemnity, he deposed as follows:—