“Haven’t you finished yet?” the judge asked the Doctor. “It shouldn’ttake that long just to ask what I had for supper.”

  “Oh no, Your Honor,” said the Doctor. “The dog told me that long ago.But then he went on to tell me what you did after supper.”

  “Never mind that,” said the judge. “Tell me what answer he gave you tomy question.”

  “He says you had a mutton-chop, two baked potatoes, a pickled walnutand a glass of ale.”

  The Honorable Eustace Beauchamp Conckley went white to the lips.

  “Sounds like witchcraft,” he muttered. “I never dreamed—”

  “And after your supper,” the Doctor went on, “he says you went to see aprize-fight and then sat up playing cards for money till twelve o’clockand came home singing, ‘We won’t get—’”

  “That will do,” the judge interrupted, “I am satisfied you can do asyou say. The prisoner’s dog shall be admitted as a witness.”

  “I protest, I object!” screamed the Prosecutor. “Your Honor, this is—”

  “Sit down!” roared the judge. “I say the dog shall be heard. That endsthe matter. Put the witness in the stand.”

  And then for the first time in the solemn history of England a dog wasput in the witness-stand of Her Majesty’s Court of Assizes. And itwas I, Tommy Stubbins (when the Doctor made a sign to me across theroom) who proudly led Bob up the aisle, through the astonished crowd,past the frowning, spluttering, long-nosed Prosecutor, and made himcomfortable on a high chair in the witness-box; from where the oldbulldog sat scowling down over the rail upon the amazed and gapingjury.

  “Sat scowling down upon the amazed and gaping jury”]

  _THE SEVENTH CHAPTER_

  THE END OF THE MYSTERY

  THE trial went swiftly forward after that. Mr. Jenkyns told the Doctorto ask Bob what he saw on the “night of the 29th;” and when Bob hadtold all he knew and the Doctor had turned it into English for thejudge and the jury, this was what he had to say:

  “On the night of the 29th of November, 1824, I was with my master, LukeFitzjohn (otherwise known as Luke the Hermit) and his two partners,Manuel Mendoza and William Boggs (otherwise known as Bluebeard Bill)on their gold-mine in Mexico. For a long time these three men had beenhunting for gold; and they had dug a deep hole in the ground. On themorning of the 29th gold was discovered, lots of it, at the bottom ofthis hole. And all three, my master and his two partners, were veryhappy about it because now they would be rich. But Manuel Mendoza askedBluebeard Bill to go for a walk with him. These two men I had alwayssuspected of being bad. So when I noticed that they left my masterbehind, I followed them secretly to see what they were up to. And in adeep cave in the mountains I heard them arrange together to kill Lukethe Hermit so that they should get all the gold and he have none.”

  At this point the judge asked, “Where is the witness Mendoza?Constable, see that he does not leave the court.”

  But the wicked little man with the watery eyes had already sneaked outwhen no one was looking and he was never seen in Puddleby again.

  “Then,” Bob’s statement went on, “I went to my master and tried veryhard to make him understand that his partners were dangerous men. Butit was no use. He did not understand dog language. So I did the nextbest thing: I never let him out of my sight but stayed with him everymoment of the day and night.

  “Now the hole that they had made was so deep that to get down and upit you had to go in a big bucket tied on the end of a rope; and thethree men used to haul one another up and let one another down the minein this way. That was how the gold was brought up too—in the bucket.Well, about seven o’clock in the evening my master was standing at thetop of the mine, hauling up Bluebeard Bill who was in the bucket. Justas he had got Bill halfway up I saw Mendoza come out of the hut wherewe all lived. Mendoza thought that Bill was away buying groceries. Buthe wasn’t: he was in the bucket. And when Mendoza saw Luke hauling andstraining on the rope he thought he was pulling up a bucketful ofgold. So he drew a pistol from his pocket and came sneaking up behindLuke to shoot him.

  “I barked and barked to warn my master of the danger he was in; but hewas so busy hauling up Bill (who was a heavy fat man) that he took nonotice of me. I saw that if I didn’t do something quick he would surelybe shot. So I did a thing I’ve never done before: suddenly and savagelyI bit my master in the leg from behind. Luke was so hurt and startledthat he did just what I wanted him to do: he let go the rope with bothhands at once and turned round. And then, _Crash!_ down went Bill inhis bucket to the bottom of the mine and he was killed.

  “While my master was busy scolding me Mendoza put his pistol in hispocket, came up with a smile on his face and looked down the mine.

  “‘Why, Good Gracious!’ said he to Luke, ‘You’ve killed Bluebeard Bill.I must go and tell the police’—hoping, you see, to get the whole mineto himself when Luke should be put in prison. Then he jumped on hishorse and galloped away.

  “And soon my master grew afraid; for he saw that if Mendoza only toldenough lies to the police, it _would_ look as though he had killed Billon purpose. So while Mendoza was gone he and I stole away togethersecretly and came to England. Here he shaved off his beard and became ahermit. And ever since, for fifteen years, we’ve remained in hiding.This is all I have to say. And I swear it is the truth, every word.”

  When the Doctor finished reading Bob’s long speech the excitement amongthe twelve men of the jury was positively terrific. One, a very oldman with white hair, began to weep in a loud voice at the thought ofpoor Luke hiding on the fen for fifteen years for something he couldn’thelp. And all the others set to whispering and nodding their heads toone another.

  In the middle of all this up got that horrible Prosecutor again, wavinghis arms more wildly than ever.

  “Your Honor,” he cried, “I must object to this evidence as biased.Of course the dog would not tell the truth against his own master. Iobject. I protest.”

  “Very well,” said the judge, “you are at liberty to cross-examine. Itis your duty as Prosecutor to prove his evidence untrue. There is thedog: question him, if you do not believe what he says.”

  I thought the long-nosed lawyer would have a fit. He looked first atthe dog, then at the Doctor, then at the judge, then back at the dogscowling from the witness-box. He opened his mouth to say something;but no words came. He waved his arms some more. His face got redderand redder. At last, clutching his forehead, he sank weakly into hisseat and had to be helped out of the court-room by two friends. As hewas half carried through the door he was still feebly murmuring, “Iprotest—I object—I protest!”

  _THE EIGHTH CHAPTER_

  THREE CHEERS

  NEXT the judge made a very long speech to the jury; and when it wasover all the twelve jurymen got up and went out into the next room. Andat that point the Doctor came back, leading Bob, to the seat beside me.

  “What have the jurymen gone out for?” I asked.

  “They always do that at the end of a trial—to make up their mindswhether the prisoner did it or not.”

  “Couldn’t you and Bob go in with them and help them make up their mindsthe right way?” I asked.

  “No, that’s not allowed. They have to talk it over in secret. Sometimesit takes—My Gracious, look, they’re coming back already! They didn’tspend long over it.”

  Everybody kept quite still while the twelve men came tramping backinto their places in the pews. Then one of them, the leader—a littleman—stood up and turned to the judge. Every one was holding his breath,especially the Doctor and myself, to see what he was going to say. Youcould have heard a pin drop while the whole court-room, the whole ofPuddleby in fact, waited with craning necks and straining ears to hearthe weighty words.

  “Your Honor,” said the little man, “the jury returns a verdict of _NotGuilty_.”

  “What’s that mean?” I asked, turning to the Doctor.

  But I found Doctor John Dolittle, the famous naturalist, standing ontop of a chair
, dancing about on one leg like a schoolboy.

  “It means he’s free!” he cried, “Luke is free!”

  “Then he’ll be able to come on the voyage with us, won’t he?”

  But I could not hear his answer; for the whole court-room seemed tobe jumping up on chairs like the Doctor. The crowd had suddenly gonecrazy. All the people were laughing and calling and waving to Luke toshow him how glad they were that he was free. The noise was deafening.

  Then it stopped. All was quiet again; and the people stood uprespectfully while the judge left the Court. For the trial of Luke theHermit, that famous trial which to this day they are still talking ofin Puddleby, was over.

  In the hush while the judge was leaving, a sudden shriek rang out, andthere, in the doorway stood a woman, her arms out-stretched to theHermit.

  “Luke!” she cried, “I’ve found you at last!”

  “It’s his wife,” the fat woman in front of me whispered. “She ain’tseen ’im in fifteen years, poor dear! What a lovely re-union. I’m gladI came. I wouldn’t have missed this for anything!”

  As soon as the judge had gone the noise broke out again; and now thefolks gathered round Luke and his wife and shook them by the hand andcongratulated them and laughed over them and cried over them.

  “Come along, Stubbins,” said the Doctor, taking me by the arm, “let’sget out of this while we can.”

  “But aren’t you going to speak to Luke?” I said—“to ask him if he’llcome on the voyage?”

  “It wouldn’t be a bit of use,” said the Doctor. “His wife’s come forhim. No man stands any chance of going on a voyage when his wife hasn’tseen him in fifteen years. Come along. Let’s get home to tea. We didn’thave any lunch, remember. And we’ve earned something to eat. We’ll haveone of those mixed meals, lunch and tea combined—with watercress andham. Nice change. Come along.”

  Just as we were going to step out at a side door I heard the crowdshouting,

  “The Doctor! The Doctor! Where’s the Doctor? The Hermit would havehanged if it hadn’t been for the Doctor. Speech! Speech!—The Doctor!”

  And a man came running up to us and said,

  “The people are calling for you, Sir.”

  “I’m very sorry,” said the Doctor, “but I’m in a hurry.”

  “The crowd won’t be denied, Sir,” said the man. “They want you to makea speech in the market-place.”

  “Beg them to excuse me,” said the Doctor—“with my compliments. I havean appointment at my house—a very important one which I may not break.Tell Luke to make a speech. Come along, Stubbins, this way.”

  “Oh Lord!” he muttered as we got out into the open air and foundanother crowd waiting for him at the side door. “Let’s go up thatalleyway—to the left. Quick!—Run!”

  We took to our heels, darted through a couple of side streets and justmanaged to get away from the crowd.

  It was not till we had gained the Oxenthorpe Road that we dared toslow down to a walk and take our breath. And even when we reached theDoctor’s gate and turned to look backwards towards the town, the faintmurmur of many voices still reached us on the evening wind.

  “They’re still clamoring for you,” I said. “Listen!”

  The murmur suddenly swelled up into a low distant roar; and although itwas a mile and half away you could distinctly hear the words,

  “Three cheers for Luke the Hermit: Hooray!—Three cheers for his dog:Hooray!—Three cheers for his wife: Hooray!—Three cheers for the Doctor:Hooray! Hooray! HOO-R-A-Y!”

  _THE NINTH CHAPTER_

  THE PURPLE BIRD-OF-PARADISE

  POLYNESIA was waiting for us in the front porch. She looked full ofsome important news.

  “Doctor,” said she, “the Purple Bird-of-Paradise has arrived!”

  “At last!” said the Doctor. “I had begun to fear some accident hadbefallen her. And how is Miranda?”

  From the excited way in which the Doctor fumbled his key into the lockI guessed that we were not going to get our tea right away, even now.

  “Oh, she seemed all right when she arrived,” said Polynesia—“tired fromher long journey of course but otherwise all right. But what _do_ youthink? That mischief-making sparrow, Cheapside, insulted her as soonas she came into the garden. When I arrived on the scene she was intears and was all for turning round and going straight back to Brazilto-night. I had the hardest work persuading her to wait till you came.She’s in the study. I shut Cheapside in one of your book-cases and toldhim I’d tell you exactly what had happened the moment you got home.”

  The Doctor frowned, then walked silently and quickly to the study.

  Here we found the candles lit; for the daylight was nearly gone.Dab-Dab was standing on the floor mounting guard over one of theglass-fronted book-cases in which Cheapside had been imprisoned. Thenoisy little sparrow was still fluttering angrily behind the glass whenwe came in.

  In the centre of the big table, perched on the ink-stand, stood themost beautiful bird I have ever seen. She had a deep violet-coloredbreast, scarlet wings and a long, long sweeping tail of gold. She wasunimaginably beautiful but looked dreadfully tired. Already she had herhead under her wing; and she swayed gently from side to side on top ofthe ink-stand like a bird that has flown long and far.

  “Sh!” said Dab-Dab. “Miranda is asleep. I’ve got this little impCheapside in here. Listen, Doctor: for Heaven’s sake send that sparrowaway before he does any more mischief. He’s nothing but a vulgar littlenuisance. We’ve had a perfectly awful time trying to get Miranda tostay. Shall I serve your tea in here, or will you come into the kitchenwhen you’re ready?”

  “We’ll come into the kitchen, Dab-Dab,” said the Doctor. “Let Cheapsideout before you go, please.”

  Dab-Dab opened the bookcase-door and Cheapside strutted out trying hardnot to look guilty.

  “Cheapside,” said the Doctor sternly, “what did you say to Miranda whenshe arrived?”

  “I didn’t say nothing, Doc, straight I didn’t. That is, nothing much. Iwas picking up crumbs off the gravel path when she comes swanking intothe garden, turning up her nose in all directions, as though she ownedthe earth—just because she’s got a lot of colored plumage. A Londonsparrow’s as good as her any day. I don’t hold by these gawdy bedizenedforeigners nohow. Why don’t they stay in their own country?”

  “But what did you say to her that got her so offended?”

  “All I said was, ‘You don’t belong in an English garden; you ought tobe in a milliner’s window.’ That’s all.”

  “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Cheapside. Don’t you realize thatthis bird has come thousands of miles to see me—only to be insulted byyour impertinent tongue as soon as she reaches my garden? What do youmean by it?—If she had gone away again before I got back to-night Iwould never have forgiven you—Leave the room.”

  Sheepishly, but still trying to look as though he didn’t care,Cheapside hopped out into the passage and Dab-Dab closed the door.

  The Doctor went up to the beautiful bird on the ink-stand and gentlystroked its back. Instantly its head popped out from under its wing.

  _THE TENTH CHAPTER_

  LONG ARROW, THE SON OF GOLDEN ARROW

  “WELL, Miranda,” said the Doctor. “I’m terribly sorry this hashappened. But you mustn’t mind Cheapside; he doesn’t know any better.He’s a city bird; and all his life he has had to squabble for a living.You must make allowances. He doesn’t know any better.”

  Miranda stretched her gorgeous wings wearily. Now that I saw her awakeand moving I noticed what a superior, well-bred manner she had. Therewere tears in her eyes and her beak was trembling.

  “I wouldn’t have minded so much,” she said in a high silvery voice,“if I hadn’t been so dreadfully worn out—That and something else,” sheadded beneath her breath.

  “Did you have a hard time getting here?” asked the Doctor.

  “The worst passage I ever made,” said Miranda. “The weather—Well there.What’s the use?
I’m here anyway.”

  “Tell me,” said the Doctor as though he had been impatiently waiting tosay something for a long time: “what did Long Arrow say when you gavehim my message?”

  The Purple Bird-of-Paradise hung her head.

  “That’s the worst part of it,” she said. “I might almost as well havenot come at all. I wasn’t able to deliver your message. I couldn’t findhim. _Long Arrow, the son of Golden Arrow, has disappeared!_”

  “Disappeared!” cried the Doctor. “Why, what’s become of him?”

  “Nobody knows,” Miranda answered. “He had often disappeared before, asI have told you—so that the Indians didn’t know where he was. But it’sa mighty hard thing to hide away from the birds. I had always been ableto find some owl or martin who could tell me where he was—if I wantedto know. But not this time. That’s why I’m nearly a fortnight late incoming to you: I kept hunting and hunting, asking everywhere. I wentover the whole length and breadth of South America. But there wasn’t aliving thing could tell me where he was.”

  There was a sad silence in the room after she had finished; the Doctorwas frowning in a peculiar sort of way and Polynesia scratched her head.

  “Did you ask the black parrots?” asked Polynesia. “They usually knoweverything.”

  “Certainly I did,” said Miranda. “And I was so upset at not beingable to find out anything, that I forgot all about observing theweather-signs before I started my flight here. I didn’t even bother tobreak my journey at the Azores, but cut right across, making for theStraits of Gibraltar—as though it were June or July. And of course Iran into a perfectly frightful storm in mid-Atlantic. I really thoughtI’d never come through it. Luckily I found a piece of a wrecked vesselfloating in the sea after the storm had partly died down; and I roostedon it and took some sleep. If I hadn’t been able to take that rest Iwouldn’t be here to tell the tale.”