INSIDE the court-room everything was very solemn and wonderful. It was
a high, big room. Raised above the floor, against the wall was the
Judge’s desk; and here the judge was already sitting—an old, handsome
man in a marvelous big wig of gray hair and a gown of black. Below him
was another wide, long desk at which lawyers in white wigs sat. The
whole thing reminded me of a mixture between a church and a school.
“Those twelve men at the side,” whispered the Doctor—“those in pews
like a choir, they are what is called the jury. It is they who decide
whether Luke is guilty—whether he did it or not.”
“And look!” I said, “there’s Luke himself in a sort of pulpit-thing
with policemen each side of him. And there’s another pulpit, the same
kind, the other side of the room, see—only that one’s empty.”
“That one is called the witness-box,” said the Doctor. “Now I’m going
down to speak to one of those men in white wigs; and I want you to wait
here and keep these two seats for us. Bob will stay with you. Keep an
eye on him—better hold on to his collar. I shan’t be more than a minute
or so.”
With that the Doctor disappeared into the crowd which filled the main
part of the room.
Then I saw the judge take up a funny little wooden hammer and knock on
his desk with it. This, it seemed, was to make people keep quiet, for
immediately every one stopped buzzing and talking and began to listen
very respectfully. Then another man in a black gown stood up and began
reading from a paper in his hand.
He mumbled away exactly as though he were saying his prayers and didn’t
want any one to understand what language they were in. But I managed to
catch a few words:
“_Biz—biz—biz—biz—biz_—otherwise known as Luke the
Hermit, of—_biz—biz—biz—biz_—for killing his partner
with—_biz—biz—biz_—otherwise known as Bluebeard Bill on the night
of the—_biz—biz—biz_—in the _biz—biz—biz_—of Mexico. Therefore Her
Majesty’s—_biz—biz—biz_—”
At this moment I felt some one take hold of my arm from the back, and
turning round I found the Doctor had returned with one of the men in
white wigs.
“Stubbins, this is Mr. Percy Jenkyns,” said the Doctor. “He is Luke’s
lawyer. It is his business to get Luke off—if he can.”
Mr. Jenkyns seemed to be an extremely young man with a round smooth
face like a boy. He shook hands with me and then immediately turned and
went on talking with the Doctor.
“Oh, I think it is a perfectly precious idea,” he was saying. “Of
_course_ the dog must be admitted as a witness; he was the only one
who saw the thing take place. I’m awfully glad you came. I wouldn’t
have missed this for anything. My hat! Won’t it make the old court sit
up? They’re always frightfully dull, these Assizes. But this will stir
things. A bulldog witness for the defense! I do hope there are plenty
of reporters present—Yes, there’s one making a sketch of the prisoner.
I shall become known after this—And won’t Conkey be pleased? My hat!”
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 note-book, “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.
This man said his name was Mendoza and that he was the one who had
guided the Mexican police to the mine after Bluebeard Bill had been
killed. And at every word he said I could hear Bob down below me
muttering between his teeth,
“It’s a lie! It’s a lie! I’ll chew his face. It’s a lie!”
And both the Doctor and I had hard work keeping the dog under the seat.
Then I noticed that our Mr. Jenkyns had disappeared from the Doctor’s
side. But presently I saw him stand up at the long table to speak to
the judge.
“Your Honor,” said he, “I wish to introduce a new witness for the
defense, Doctor John Dolittle, the naturalist. Will you please step
into the witness-stand, Doctor?”
There was a buzz of excitement as the Doctor made his way across the
crowded room; and I noticed the nasty lawyer with the long nose lean
down and whisper something to a friend, smiling in an ugly way which
made me want to pinch him.
Then Mr. Jenkyns asked the Doctor a whole lot of questions about
himself and made him answer in a loud voice so the whole court could
hear. He finished up by saying,
“And you are prepared to swear, Doctor Dolittle, that you understand
the language of dogs and can make them understand you. Is that so?”
“Yes,” said the Doctor, “that is so.”
“And what, might I ask,” put in the judge in a very quiet, dignified
voice, “has all this to do with the killing of er—er—Bluebeard Bill?”
“This, Your Honor,” said Mr. Jenkyns, talking in a very grand manner as
though he were on a stage in a theatre: “there is in this court-room
at the present moment a bulldog, who was the only living thing that
saw the man killed. With the Court’s permission I propose to put that
dog in the witness-stand and have him questioned before you by the
eminent scientist, Doctor John Dolittle.”
_THE SIXTH CHAPTER_