Part 67 (1/2)
He had heard of his son-in-law's encounter with Doctor Heath, of course; knew that a feud existed between them, could not so much as guess at the nature of it. The prosecuting attorney is about to dismiss him _sans ceremonie_, when Mr. O'Meara, springs into sudden activity and announces his desire to examine the witness.
His opponent stares astonished, a murmur runs through the room; the Court bids him proceed.
”Mr. Lamotte,” begins O'Meara, rising to his feet with provoking slowness, and then propounding his questions with a rapidity which leaves the witness no time for thought. ”Mr. Lamotte, what can you tell us of this missing witness, Brooks?”
Mr. Lamotte stares in mute astonishment, then instinctively scenting danger ahead, he makes an effort to rally his forces that have been scattered by the lawyer's unexpected bomb.
”What do I know of the man Brooks?” he repeats slowly. ”I don't comprehend you, sir.”
”I asked a plain question,” retorts the lawyer, crisply.
”I believe the man has been in my employ,” ventures the witness, as if making an effort to recall some very insignificant personage.
”When?”
”That I do not remember, sir.”
”Ah! Perhaps you have forgotten when last you saw this fellow, Brooks?”
”I think I saw him, for the last time, two days before my son-in-law was killed. I was at the depot, starting for the city. I think Brooks left town on the same train.”
”And you have not seen him since?”
”Not to my knowledge.”
”Make an effort to think, sir. Brooks has been seen in W---- since. It is known that he has visited Mapleton. Try to recall that visit.”
Mr. Lamotte ponders and falls into the trap.
”A man came to Mapleton on the day of Mr. Burrill's funeral,” he says, slowly. ”I believe, upon reflection, that it _was_ Brooks; he wished to see the body.”
”Did you see this man on that occasion?”
”I did; for a moment only; he came to me with his request.”
”You are sure this man was Brooks?”
”Not beyond a doubt. I was troubled, and busy. It was one of my factory hands; I _think_ it was the man Brooks.”
”Mr. Clerk,” says O'Meara, turning suddenly to that functionary, ”please take down Mr. Lamotte's statements. He is _not_ sure that it was the man Brooks.”
Mr. Lamotte looks disconcerted for a moment.
But O'Meara goes vigorously on, leaving him no time to collect his thoughts.
”Now, Mr. Lamotte, what do you know of this woman who calls herself Nance Burrill?”
”Nothing,” with a glance of offended dignity.
”Nothing! I am told that she has worked in your mills.”