“There must be deliberation, a malicious purpose proven to make the prisoner's crime a capital offence--I admit that, of course, your Honour. Very well, we propose to prove that now,” and then she had heard her name called. The proof that was to send Rufe Tolliver to the scaffold was to come from her--that was why she was there. Her lips opened and Rufe's eyes, like a snake's, caught her own again and held them.
There was a commotion at the door, again the crowd parted, and in towered giant Judd Tolliver, pushing people aside as though they were straws, his bushy hair wild and his great frame shaking from head to foot with rage.
“You went to my house,” he rumbled hoarsely--glaring at Hale--“an' took my gal thar when I wasn't at home--you--”
“Order in the Court,” said the Judge sternly, but already at a signal from Hale several guards were pushing through the crowd and old Judd saw them coming and saw the Falins about him and the Winchesters at the port-holes, and he stopped with a hard gulp and stood looking at June.
“Repeat his exact words,” said the deep voice again as calmly as though nothing had happened.
“He said, 'I'm goin' over to the Gap--'” and still Rufe's black eyes held her with mesmeric power--would she lie for him--would she lie for him?
It was a terrible struggle for June. Her father was there, her uncle Dave was dead, her foster-uncle's life hung on her next words and she was a Tolliver. Yet she had given her oath, she had kissed the sacred Book in which she believed from cover to cover with her whole heart, and she could feel upon her the blue eyes of a man for whom a lie was impossible and to whom she had never stained her white soul with a word of untruth.
Not a soul in the room knew where the struggle lay--not even the girl--for it lay between the black eyes of Rufe Tolliver and the blue eyes of John Hale.
“Yes,” repeated the deep voice again. Again, with her eyes on Rufe, she repeated:
“'I'm goin' over to the Gap--'” her face turned deadly white, she shivered, her dark eyes swerved suddenly full on Hale and she said slowly and distinctly, yet hardly above a whisper:
“That will do,” said the deep voice gently, and Hale started toward her--she looked so deadly sick and she trembled so when she tried to rise; but she saw him, her mouth steadied, she rose, and without looking at him, passed by his outstretched hand and walked slowly out of the Court Room.