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The Tale of Timber Town
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“Then we’ll try to assist your memory. Do you know the prisoner at the bar?”
The witness looked at Scarlett with a grin. Then he turned, and confronted the lawyer. “I know him,” he said. “He was boss of the gentlemen diggers.”
“Did you know the deceased, Isaac Zahn, with whose murder the prisoner is charged?”
“I did – he bought gold of me.”
“Did you ever know the two men, John Scarlett and Isaac Zahn, to quarrel?”
“I did.”
“Please be so good as to describe to the jury the nature of the quarrel.”
“I was standin’ in the bar of The Lucky Digger, havin’ a pint with a friend,” said the long, thin witness, “when I heard the prisoner exchangin’ words with Zahn.”
“Ah! a very important matter,” said the counsel for the Crown. “What was the subject of their conversation?”
“Seemed to me they were both sparkin’ up to the bar-maid,” said the digger, “an’ consequently there was bad blood between ’em, specially on the part of Scarlett.”
“Did he strike the deceased?”
“Certainly. Struck ’im in the bar, in the passage, an’ kicked ’im into the street.”
“You swear to that?”
“Decidedly. I seen ’im do it.”
“Thank you. You may stand down – unless, of course, my friend the counsel for the defence would like to ask a question.”
Scarlett’s barrister, a man of jovial countenance, smiled, and shook his head.
“Call Rachel Varnhagen.”
The pretty Jewess, dressed in black, walked modestly into the Court, mounted the step or two which led to the witness-box, and bowed to the Judge and jury.
“I should be pleased to spare you the pain of appearing as a witness in this case,” said the barrister for the Crown, looking his softest at the lovely Rachel, “but the importance I attach to the evidence I believe you will give, is so great that I am forced to sacrifice my private feelings upon the altar of Justice. I believe you know the prisoner at the bar?”
“Yes, I do,” replied Rachel, in a very low voice.
“Did you know Isaac Zahn, with whose murder he is charged?”
“I did.”
“Is it a fact that you were engaged in marriage to Isaac Zahn?”
“I was, but the engagement was broken off some six weeks before his death.”
“And that you afterwards became engaged to John Scarlett?”
“I was never engaged to marry the prisoner.”
“Ah, then I have been misinformed. Were not the prisoner and the deceased rivals for your hand?”
“I believed them to be so.”
“Did you ever know them to quarrel?”
“I once saw the prisoner throw Isaac Zahn out of a house.”
“What house?”
“I was passing along the street, when through the door of a public-house I saw the prisoner throw or kick Isaac Zahn into the street, and he fell on the pavement at my feet.”
“Can you remember the name of the public-house?”
“It was The Lucky Digger.”
The barrister sat down, and looked at the ceiling of the Court – he had finished his examination – and the Judge motioned the fair Rachel to stand down.
The next witness to be sworn was Amiria.
“Do you remember the 3rd of March last?” asked the Crown Prosecutor.
The brown eyes of the Maori girl flashed, and, drawing herself up with dignity, she said, “Of course, I do. Why should I forget it?”
“What did you do on that day – where did you go?”
“I went for a ride, though I can’t see how that can interest you?”
“Did you go alone?”
“No.”
“Who accompanied you?”
“Mr. Scarlett.”
“Indeed. Where did you ride to?”
“In the direction of Canvas Town.”
“Well, well. This is most important. Did you accompany the prisoner all the way?”
“No. We parted at the last ford before you come to the mountains, and I returned alone to Timber Town.”
“What time of day was that?”
“Between nine and ten in the morning.”
The witness looked at Scarlett with a grin. Then he turned, and confronted the lawyer. “I know him,” he said. “He was boss of the gentlemen diggers.”
“Did you know the deceased, Isaac Zahn, with whose murder the prisoner is charged?”
“I did – he bought gold of me.”
“Did you ever know the two men, John Scarlett and Isaac Zahn, to quarrel?”
“I did.”
“Please be so good as to describe to the jury the nature of the quarrel.”
“I was standin’ in the bar of The Lucky Digger, havin’ a pint with a friend,” said the long, thin witness, “when I heard the prisoner exchangin’ words with Zahn.”
“Ah! a very important matter,” said the counsel for the Crown. “What was the subject of their conversation?”
“Seemed to me they were both sparkin’ up to the bar-maid,” said the digger, “an’ consequently there was bad blood between ’em, specially on the part of Scarlett.”
“Did he strike the deceased?”
“Certainly. Struck ’im in the bar, in the passage, an’ kicked ’im into the street.”
“You swear to that?”
“Decidedly. I seen ’im do it.”
“Thank you. You may stand down – unless, of course, my friend the counsel for the defence would like to ask a question.”
Scarlett’s barrister, a man of jovial countenance, smiled, and shook his head.
“Call Rachel Varnhagen.”
The pretty Jewess, dressed in black, walked modestly into the Court, mounted the step or two which led to the witness-box, and bowed to the Judge and jury.
“I should be pleased to spare you the pain of appearing as a witness in this case,” said the barrister for the Crown, looking his softest at the lovely Rachel, “but the importance I attach to the evidence I believe you will give, is so great that I am forced to sacrifice my private feelings upon the altar of Justice. I believe you know the prisoner at the bar?”
“Yes, I do,” replied Rachel, in a very low voice.
“Did you know Isaac Zahn, with whose murder he is charged?”
“I did.”
“Is it a fact that you were engaged in marriage to Isaac Zahn?”
“I was, but the engagement was broken off some six weeks before his death.”
“And that you afterwards became engaged to John Scarlett?”
“I was never engaged to marry the prisoner.”
“Ah, then I have been misinformed. Were not the prisoner and the deceased rivals for your hand?”
“I believed them to be so.”
“Did you ever know them to quarrel?”
“I once saw the prisoner throw Isaac Zahn out of a house.”
“What house?”
“I was passing along the street, when through the door of a public-house I saw the prisoner throw or kick Isaac Zahn into the street, and he fell on the pavement at my feet.”
“Can you remember the name of the public-house?”
“It was The Lucky Digger.”
The barrister sat down, and looked at the ceiling of the Court – he had finished his examination – and the Judge motioned the fair Rachel to stand down.
The next witness to be sworn was Amiria.
“Do you remember the 3rd of March last?” asked the Crown Prosecutor.
The brown eyes of the Maori girl flashed, and, drawing herself up with dignity, she said, “Of course, I do. Why should I forget it?”
“What did you do on that day – where did you go?”
“I went for a ride, though I can’t see how that can interest you?”
“Did you go alone?”
“No.”
“Who accompanied you?”
“Mr. Scarlett.”
“Indeed. Where did you ride to?”
“In the direction of Canvas Town.”
“Well, well. This is most important. Did you accompany the prisoner all the way?”
“No. We parted at the last ford before you come to the mountains, and I returned alone to Timber Town.”
“What time of day was that?”
“Between nine and ten in the morning.”
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очень хорошая книга для студентов и учителей