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They liked Denholm, liked his resourcefulness, his unassailable good-humor, his gallant struggle on behalf of a bad cause. Plainly they were wondering what he could say for his client now. If Denholm felt that his case was hopeless, he gave no sign of it. He was frank, unassuming, friendly with the jury. His style of delivery was conversational. "I will be brief," he said.
It is the characteristic picture of a prisoner on trial; guilty or innocent makes little difference on the surface. Nature, when we have reached the limit of endurance, lends us apathy. Ambrose had suffered so much he was dulled to suffering. He had not a friend in the court-room except Arthur Denholm.
"I will therefore respectfully ask the indulgence of the court," Denholm went on, "and move to reopen the taking of testimony." "Proceed," said the judge. A court attendant led Colina to the witness stand. She was sworn. Judge, lawyers, and spectators alike searched her grave, composed face for some suggestion of what she had to say. Nothing was to be read there.
"I met with the young man Robert about five years ago, and have often since asked myself what special end providence could have in view in making such a man." "I was acquainted with old William Burns," said my companion, "when he was gardener at Denholm, an' got intimate wi' his son Robert when he lived wi' us at Irvine, a twalmonth syne.
They believed that he had plotted against the popular idols, the mounted police; that was enough. The prisoner sat at a table beside his counsel with his chin in his palm. He was well dressed and groomed Denholm saw to that and his face composed, though very pale; the eyes lusterless. Throughout Mr. Pascoe's arraignment he scarcely moved, nor appeared to pay more than cursory attention.
Indeed, in his opinion, there was no one else in the case. Denholm for the defense was a sharp and clever lad, but a mere lad! As for the judge well one knows these judges in the outlying provinces! The people of Prince George did not often get a chance to listen to a man like him, therefore he wished to give them the worth of their money.
Followed down the Teviot to Denholm, the birth-place of the celebrated poet and linguist, Dr. John Leyden, another victim who offered himself a sacrifice to the costly honors and emoluments of East Indian official life. One great thought fired his soul in all the perils and privations of that deadly climate. It was to ascend one niche higher in knowledge of oriental tongues than Sir William Jones.
"Miss Gaviller," said Denholm, "I can only ask you to tell in your own words all that you know bearing on the offenses with which Ambrose Doane is charged." "My father, Mr. Macfarlane, Dr. Giddings have all testified, I suppose," said Colina. "They can tell you as much or more than I can.
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