THE DEFENCE CLOSES.

The next day's proceedings began promptly, Dr. Medjora taking the stand for cross-examination. His evidence in his own behalf, it was generally conceded, had materially weakened the prosecution's case, and it was with much interest that the lawyers watched the outcome of his cross-examination. Mr. Munson began:

"You have testified that Miss Sloane was a morphine _habitue_." Before he could propound a question based upon this statement, the Doctor replied quickly:

"I have not so testified."

"You have not?" asked the attorney, with much surprise.

"No! I said that she had taken morphine, for pain from Bright's disease, until she had almost become an _habitue_."

"That is practically the same thing," said the lawyer, testily.

"Pardon my disagreeing with you. Had she become a confirmed user of the drug, for the drug's sake, she would probably have been suspected by those who lived in the house with her, and thus it would be easy for us to produce witnesses in corroboration of my a.s.sertion. But as she used it merely to soothe pain, even though she did take large doses, it was at such intervals, that symptoms of morphine were not sufficiently marked to attract the attention of an ordinary observer."

Messrs. Dudley and Bliss were delighted at this early proof that the Doctor would be a match for the astute attorney, who was about to endeavor to entangle him in contradictions, or damaging admissions.

"Oh! Very well!" said Mr. Munson. "You say that she took morphine in large doses. You knew this, and also that she had a serious disease, and yet you left her alone in a strange boarding-house, whilst you went away to Europe?"

"I left her under the medical care of one who certainly possessed skill, and who pretended to be my friend. I went to Europe, in the cause of humanity, to prosecute studies which I yet hope to make a benefit to my fellows." Thus the Doctor confidently predicted his acquittal. This was most shrewd, for it not infrequently occurs that men may be moved by suggestion, even when not in the hypnotic state.

Dr. Medjora was a past master in psychological science.

"How long had you been married, at this time?"

"Eighteen months."

"Then, when you left this woman, she was not only suffering from disease, and the dangers of morphine, but she was grieving for her dead child, was she not?"

This was a neat trap, sprung without warning, but the game was shy and wary. The Doctor replied sternly:

"I have not testified either that she had a child, or that, if so, she had lost it."

"Well, did she have a child?"

"You have had expert testimony upon that point. Why ask me?"

"That is my affair. Answer my question."

"I must decline to do so!"

"I appeal to the court to compel the witness to answer."

"Your Honor," cried Mr. Dudley, rising, "we object. Counsel, for some undiscoverable reason, seems determined to probe the private affairs of our client. We think that this question is irrelevant and incompetent."

"What is the object of this, Mr. Munson," asked the Recorder.

"Your Honor has ruled, and a million precedents uphold you, that we may examine into the relations that existed between the accused and the deceased."

"Your Honor," interjected Mr. Dudley, "you allowed a similar question yesterday, because counsel argued, that if he could prove the existence of a natural child, he would show that the deceased through the child had strong claim upon our client. I will also call your Honor's attention to the fact, that at that time allusion was made to another visionary claim on the part of the prosecution. This was that Dr. Medjora was in the position to marry a wealthy woman, and that the poor musician, with her child, became an obstacle in his way. Now, not a scintilla of evidence has been brought out, in substantiation of that claim, which as I said, at that time, was made merely to affect the jury. Moreover, since then, we have shown that this woman was the lawful wife of Dr. Medjora, and, therefore, her having, or not having a child, can have no possible bearing upon the issue. I hope that the question will not be allowed."

"I cannot see," said the Recorder, "what is to be gained by this, Mr.

Munson?"

"Oh, very well, your Honor," said Mr. Munson, "if you think that it is unnecessary to the case of the people, I will withdraw it. We only seek for justice, despite the aspersions of counsel."

"I have no doubt whatever of your conscientiousness," said the Recorder, to mollify the rising anger of Mr. Munson. The examination then proceeded.

"You told us yesterday, that you had received a letter whilst in Europe, in which Miss Sloane wrote that Dr. Meredith was persecuting her with his attentions. Of course you have that letter?"

"No! It has been lost, unfortunately!"

"Unfortunately lost! I should say most unfortunately lost, since it is the only corroboration you had of your remarkable statement. How did you happen to lose this precious doc.u.ment?"

"I think that it was stolen when my office was searched by detectives, who were accompanied by Dr. Meredith."

The insinuation deftly concealed in this statement, that either Dr.

Meredith had taken the paper, or that the District Attorney had suppressed it, had a visible effect upon the jury, who looked from one to the other significantly. Mr. Munson was chagrined to find what he had thought a good point in his favor, thus turned against him so quickly. He attempted to repair the damage.

"You say you think this. Do you not know, that what a man thinks is not admissible in evidence?"

"I did the best that I could to answer your question." This reply, in the humblest of tones, caused a smile.

"You have no positive knowledge that it was stolen, have you?"

"I know that it was locked in my desk, that during my absence the desk was forced open, and that upon my return the paper was gone. Whether it was stolen, or whether it forced its way out of my desk, you may decide for yourself."

"You have no evidence, beyond your own word, that Dr. Meredith acted as you have charged?"

"None!"

"You never told any friend, before the death of this girl, that Dr.

Meredith had persecuted her?"

"No. I had no confidants."

"Not even when you found that he had been called in to attend Miss Sloane? You did not explain this to Dr. Fisher?"

"No. Dr. Fisher was comparatively a stranger to me. I knew him by a.s.sociation in societies only."

"You could have spoken to him however, and so have had Dr. Meredith dismissed from the case."

"I considered the matter, and decided not to do so."

"Why did you come to so singular a conclusion?"

"Because, as I have already testified, despite my animosity, I concurred with Dr. Fisher's estimate of his skill. I thought him the most valuable consulting physician to be had, and, in a case of life and death, I believed that personal antagonisms should be forgotten."

"You say Dr. Meredith was the most valuable consulting physician to be had. Do you mean that he is the most skilled expert that you know?"