He put his hand over his mouth to smother a laugh and his eyes
fairly sparkled with mischief. "Who is Conkey?" I asked the
Doctor.
"Sh! He is speaking of the judge up there, the Honorable Eustace
Beauchamp Conckley."
"Now," said Mr. Jenkyns, bringing out a notebook, "tell me a
little more about yourself, Doctor. You took your degree as
Doctor of Medicine at Durham, I think you said. And the name of
your last book was?"
I could not hear any more for they talked in whispers; and I fell
to looking round the court again.
Of course I could not understand everything that was going on,
though it was all very interesting. People kept getting up in
the place the Doctor called the witness-box, and the lawyers at
the long table asked them questions about "the night of the
29th." Then the people would get down again and somebody else
would get up and be questioned.
One of the lawyers (who, the Doctor told me afterwards, was
called the Prosecutor) seemed to be doing his best to get the
Hermit into trouble by asking questions which made it look as
though he had always been a very bad man. He was a nasty lawyer,
this Prosecutor, with a long nose.
Most of the time I could hardly keep my eyes off poor Luke, who
sat there between his two policemen, staring at the floor as
though he weren't interested. The only time I saw him take any
notice at all was when a small dark man with wicked, little,
watery eyes got up into the witness-box. I heard Bob snarl under
my chair as this person came into the court-room and Luke's eyes
just blazed with anger and contempt.
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