Q.You have testified to being responsible for the death of John Darrow.The instrument with which he was killed was directly or indirectly your handiwork, yet you did not strike the blow, and you have said you had no other person for an accomplice.Am Isubstantially correct in all this?
A.You are quite correct.
Q.Very good.Did John Darrow's death result from a poisoned wound made by the instrument you have described?
A.It did.
This reply seemed to nonplus us all with the exception of Maitland and Godin.These two seemed proof against all surprises.The rest of us looked helplessly each at his neighbour as if to say, "What next?" and we all felt, - at least I did and the others certainly looked it, - as if the solution of the enigma were farther away than ever.
Maitland proceeded in the same methodical strain.
Q.A blow was given, yet neither you nor any person acting as your accomplice gave it.Did Mr.Darrow himself give the blow?
A.No, sir.
Q.I thought not.Did any person give it?
A.No, sir.
The audience drew a deep inspiration, as if with one accord! They had ceased to reason.Again and again had we been brought, as we all felt sure, within a single syllable of the truth, only to find ourselves at the next word more mystified than ever.It would hardly have surprised us more if the prisoner had informed us that Mr.Darrow still lived.The excitement was so intense that thought was impossible, so we could only listen with bated breath for someone else to solve the thing for our beleaguered and discouraged minds.
After a word with his colleague, Maitland resumed.
Q.A blow was given, yet no person gave it.Was it given by anything which is alive?
A.It was not.
You could have heard a pin drop, so silent was the room during the pause which preceded Maitland's next question.
Q.Did you arrange some inanimate object or objects outside the eastern window, or elsewhere, on the Darrow estate so that it or they might wound Mr.Darrow?
A.No, - no inanimate object other than the hypodermic syringe already referred to.
Q.To my question: "A blow was given, yet no person gave it.Was it given by anything which is alive?" you have answered: "It was not." Let me now ask: Was it given by anything which was at that time alive?
A.It was.
There was a stir all over the court-room.Here at last was a suggestive admission.The examination was approaching a crisis!
Q.And you have said it was not a person.Was it not an animal?
A.It was.
"An animal!" we all ejaculated with the unanimity of a Greek chorus.
So audible were the exclamations of incredulity which arose from the spellbound audience that the crier's gavel had to be brought into requisition before Maitland could proceed.
Q.Did you train a little Capucin monkey to strike this blow?
A.I did.
A great sigh, the result of suddenly relieved tension, liberally interlarded with unconscious exclamations, swept over the court-room and would not be gavelled into silence until it had duly spent itself.
Even the Judge so far forgot his dignity as to give vent to a half-stifled exclamation.
Maitland proceeded:
Q.In order that this monkey might not attack the wrong man after you had armed him, you taught him to obey certain signals given by little twitches upon the cord by which you held him.A certain signal was to creep stealthily forward, another to strike, and still another to crawl quickly back with the weapon.When circumstances seemed most favourable to the success of your designs, - that is, when Miss Darrow's voice and the piano prevented any slight sound from attracting attention, - you gently dropped the monkey in at the window and signalled him what to do.When Mr.Darrow sprang to his feet you recalled the monkey and hastened away.Is not this a fairly correct description of what occurred?
A.It is true to the letter.
Q.And subsequently you killed the monkey lest he should betray you by exhibiting his little tricks, at an inopportune moment in a way to compromise you.Is it not so?
A.It is.I killed him, though he was my daughter's pet.
We were stricken aghast at Maitland's sudden grasp of the case.
Even Godin was surprised.What could it all mean? Had Maitland known the facts all along? Had he simply been playing with the witness for reasons which we could not divine? M.Godin's face was a study.He ceased boring holes in Latour with his eyes and turned those wonderful orbs full upon Maitland, in whom they seemed to sink to the depths of his very soul.Clearly M.Godin was surprised at this exhibition of Maitland's power.
Browne, who throughout the trial had glared at Maitland with an unfriendliness which must have been apparent to everyone, now lowered blacker than ever, it seemed to me.I wondered what could have occurred to still further displease him, and finally concluded it must either be some transient thought which had come uncalled into his mind, or else a feeling of envy at his rival's prominence in the case, and the deservedly good reputation he was making.His general ill-feeling I, of course, charged to jealousy, for I could not but note his uncontrollable admiration for Gwen.I fully believed he would have given his own life - or anyone else's for that matter - to possess her, and I decided to speak a word of warning to George.After a short, whispered consultation with Jenkins and the prosecuting attorney, Maitland turned to the prisoner and said:
"That will do.M.Latour may leave the stand."It seemed to the spectators that the affair was now entirely cleared up, and they accordingly settled themselves comfortably for the formal denouement.They were, therefore, much taken aback when Maitland continued, addressing the jury:
