“Only a matter of Caleb having defended him on occasions when they were children,” she replied. “He was not specific, but I think it was from older boys, from teasing and bullying. He did imply that there had been some boy who had been especially brutal, and Caleb had always been the one to take the brunt of it and protect Angus.” The tears momentarily spilled down her face and she ignored them. “Angus never forgot that.”

“I see,” Rathbone said softly, smiling a little. “That is a sentiment of honor I imagine we can all understand and admire.” He gave the jury a moment or two to absorb the idea. Again he did not look at them. It would be far too unsubtle. “But you believe he was frightened, all the same,” he continued. “Why, Mrs. Stonefield?”

“Because before he went he would be restless and withdrawn,” she answered.

“Quite unlike his usual manner. He preferred to spend time alone, often pacing the floor. He would be pale-faced, unable to eat, his hands would shake and his mouth be dry. When someone is as deeply afraid as that, Mr.

Rathbone, it is not hard to observe it, especially if it is someone you know well, and love.”

“Of course,” he murmured. He was acutely conscious of Caleb crouched forward over the railing, and of two jurors staring at him as if he were a wild animal, and might even leap over upon them, were he not manacled. “Was there anything else?”

“Sometimes he dreamed,” she replied. “He would cry out, calling Caleb's name, and saying, `No! No!' And then he would wake up covered in perspiration, and his whole body shaking.”

“Did he discuss with you what was in these dreams?”

“No. He was too distressed.” She closed her eyes and her voice quivered.

“I would simply hold him in my arms until he went to sleep again, as I would a child.”

There was total silence in the court. For once even Caleb had his head bent forward so his face was hidden. In the crowd there were only a few sighs of pent-up breath being let go, emotions tight.

Enid looked as if she might weep, and her hand clung to Hester's.

“I appreciate that this can only be painful for you,” Rathbone resumed after a moment, allowing Genevieve time to master herself. “But there are questions I must ask. When your husband did not return, what steps did you take?”

“The following day I went into his place of business and asked Mr.

Arbuthnot, the senior clerk, if perhaps Angus had been called away on business, and somehow the message to me had been lost. He said that had not happened. He= She stopped.

“Yes, please do not tell us what Mr. Arbuthnot said.” Rathbone snuled at her very slightly. “We shall ask him in due course. Tell us merely what you did yourself, as a result of his information.”