无人生还 30

III

In his pleasant softly tinted¹ room, Mr. Justice Wargrave removed his garments and prepared

himself for bed.

He was thinking about Edward Seton.

He remembered Seton very well. His fair hair, his blue eyes, his habit of looking you

straight in the face with a pleasant air of straightforwardness². That was what had made so good

an impression on the jury.

Llewellyn, for the Crown, had bungled³ it a bit. He had been overvehement, had tried to

prove too much.

Matthews, on the other hand, for the Defence, had been good. His points had told. His

cross-examinations had been deadly. His handling of his client in the witness-box had been

masterly.

And Seton had come through the ordeal⁴ of cross-examination well. He had not got excited

or overvehement. The jury had been impressed. It had seemed to Matthews, perhaps, as though

everything had been over bar the shouting.

The judge wound up his watch carefully and placed it by the bed.

He remembered exactly how he had felt sitting there — listening, making notes,

appreciating everything, tabulating⁵ every scrap⁶ of evidence that told against the prisoner.

He’d enjoyed that case! Matthews’ final speech had been first-class. Llewellyn, coming

after it, had failed to remove the good impression that the defending counsel had made.

And then had come his own summing up….

Carefully, Mr. Justice Wargrave removed his false teeth and dropped them into a glass of

water. The shrunken lips fell in. It was a cruel mouth now, cruel and predatory.

Hooding⁷ his eyes, the judge smiled to himself.

He’d cooked Seton’s goose all right!

With a slightly rheumatic grunt⁸, he climbed into bed and turned out the electric light.

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