"With whom was she travelling?"
"With a gentleman whom I afterward learned was her husband, a little boy some two or three years of age, and the child"s nurse."
"Were there any other children on the train?"
"Yes, one, a boy of about the same age, riding in the same car in company with an elderly gentleman."
"Did you see either of these children after the disaster?"
"I saw one of them."
"Which one?"
"I supposed, at the time, that it was the one who accompanied the old gentleman."
"Why did you suppose so?"
"Because I saw a child who bore marks of having been in the wreck riding in the car which carried the rescued pa.s.sengers to the city, and he was in company with an elderly man."
"Was he the same elderly man whom you saw with the child before the accident?"
"I cannot say; my attention was not particularly called to him before the accident; but I supposed he was the one, from the fact of his having the child with him."
"Could you, at this time, recognize the man whom you saw with the child after the accident?"
"I think so. I took especial notice of him then."
"Look at this old gentleman, sitting by me," said Sharpman, waving his hand toward Craft, "and tell me whether he is the one."
The man turned his eyes on Old Simon, and looked at him closely for a full minute.
"Yes," he replied, "I believe he is the one. He has grown older and thinner, but I do not think I am mistaken."
Craft nodded his head mildly in a.s.sent, and Sharpman continued:--
"Did you take particular notice of the child"s clothing as you saw it after the accident; could you recognize, at this time, the princ.i.p.al articles of outside wear that he had on?"
"I think I could."
Sharpman paused as if in thought.
After he had whispered for a moment with Craft, he said to the witness:--
"That is all, for the present, Mr. Merrick." Then he turned to the opposing counsel and said:--
"Mr. Goodlaw, you may take the witness."
Goodlaw fixed his gla.s.ses more firmly on his nose, consulted briefly with his client, and then began his cross-examination.
After drawing out much of the personal history of the witness, he went with him into the details of the Cherry Brook disaster.
Finally he asked:--
"Did you know Robert Burnham in his lifetime?"
"A gentleman by that name called on me a week after the accident to make inquiries about his son."
"Did you say to him, at that time, that the child must have perished in the wreck?"
"I think I did; yes, sir."
"On what did you base your opinion?"
"On several circ.u.mstances. The nurse with whom he was sitting was killed outright; it would seem to have been impossible for any one occupying that seat to have escaped instant death, since the other car struck and rested at just that point. Again, there were but two children on the train. It took it for granted that the old man and child whom I saw together after the accident were the same ones whom I had seen together before it occurred."
"Did you tell Mr. Burnham of seeing this old man and child after the accident?"
"I did; yes, sir."
"Did you not say to him positively, at that time, that they were the same persons who were sitting together across the aisle from him before the crash came?"
"It may be that I did."
"And did you not a.s.sure him that the child who went to the city, on the train that night after the accident was not his son?"
"I may have done so. I felt quite positive of it at that time."
"Has your opinion in that matter changed since then?"
"Not as to the facts; no, sir; but I feel that I may have taken too much for granted at that time, and have given Mr. Burnham a wrong impression."
"At which time, sir, would you be better able to form an opinion,--one week after this accident occurred, or ten years afterward?"
"My opinion is formed on the facts; and I a.s.sure you that they were not weighted with such light consequences for me that I have easily forgotten them. If there were any tendency to do so, I have here a constant reminder," holding up his empty sleeve as he spoke. "My judgment is better, to-day, than it was ten years ago. I have learned more; and, looking carefully over the facts in this case in the light I now have, I believe it possible that this son of Robert Burnham"s may have been saved."
"That will do," said Goodlaw. The witness left the stand, and the judge, looking up at the clock on the wall, and then consulting his watch, said:--
"Gentlemen, it is nearly time to adjourn court. Mr. Sharpman, can you close your case before adjourning time?"
"That will be impossible, your Honor."
"Then, crier, you may adjourn the court until to-morrow morning at nine o"clock."
The crier made due proclamation, the spectators began to crowd out of the room, the judge left the bench, and the lawyers gathered up their papers. Ralph, on his way out, again pa.s.sed by Mrs. Burnham, and she had for him a smile and a kind word. Bachelor Billy stood waiting at the door, and the boy went down with him to their humble lodgings in the suburbs, his mind filled with conflicting thoughts, and his heart with conflicting emotions.
CHAPTER XI.