The Twisted Root Page 0,150

important but also highly confidential. The mother-to-be was very young, no more than a child herself, and whoever engaged her was most anxious that both she and the child should receive the very best attention. The child was much wanted, in spite of the circumstances. That is all she told me."

Rathbone was startled. "The child was wanted?"

"So my sister told me."

"And was it born healthy?"

"I have no idea. I never heard from my sister again."

"Thank you, Dr. Forbes. May I say how sorry I am for the reason which brings you here."

"Thank you," Forbes said soberly.

"Dr. Forbes, one last question. Did your sister have any feelings regarding the subject of abortion?"

"Very deep feelings," Forbes answered. "She was passionately opposed to it, regardless of the pity she felt for women who already had as many children as they could feed or care for, or for those who were unmarried, or even who had been assaulted or otherwise abused. She could never bring herself to feel it acceptable. It was a matter of religious principle to her."

"So she would not have performed an abortion herself?"

"Never!" Forbes's face was flushed, his emotion naked. "If you doubt me, sir, I can name a dozen professional men who will say the same of her."

"I do not doubt you, Dr. Forbes, I simply wanted you to say it for the court to hear. Thank you for your patience. I have nothing further to ask."

Tobias half rose to his feet, then sat down again. He glanced across at Rathbone, and for the first time there was misgiving in his face, even anxiety.

Again there was silence in the room. No one even noticed Harry Stourbridge stand up. It was not until he spoke that suddenly every eye turned to him.

"My lord..." He cleared his throat. "I have listened to the evidence presented here from the beginning. I believe I now understand the truth. It is very terrible, but it must be told or an unbearable injustice will be done. Two women will be hanged who are innocent of any wrong."

The silence prickled like the coming of a storm.

"If you have information pertinent to this trial, then you should most certainly take the stand again, Major Stourbridge," the judge agreed. "Be advised that you are still under oath."

"I am aware of it, my lord," Stourbridge answered, and walked slowly from his seat, across the open space and up the steps of the witness box. He waited until the judge told him to proceed, then in a hoarse, broken voice, with desperate reluctance, he began.

"I come from a family of very considerable wealth, almost all of it in lands and property, with sufficient income to maintain them and some extra to provide a more than comfortable living. However, it is all entailed, and has been so for generations. I inherited it from my father, and it will pass to my son."

He stopped for a few seconds, as if regathering his strength. There was not a sound in the room. Everyone understood that here was a man laboring under terrible emotions as he realized a truth that shattered his life.

"If I had not had a son," he continued with difficulty, his voice trembling, "the property would have passed to my younger brother." Again he paused before gathering the strength to proceed. "My wife found it extremely difficult to carry a child. Time and again she conceived, and then miscarried within the first few months. We had almost given up hope when she came to visit me in Egypt while I was serving in the army there. It was a dangerous posting both because of the fighting and because of the natural hazards of disease. I was anxious for her, but she was determined to come, at all costs."

Now he was speaking, the words poured out. Every man and woman in the room was listening intently. No one moved even a hand.

"She stayed with me for over a month." His voice cracked. "She seemed to enjoy it. Then she returned by boat down the Nile to Alexandria. I have had much time to think over and over on what has happened, to try to understand why my wife was killed. She was a generous woman who never harmed anyone." He looked confused, beaten. "And why Miriam, whom we all cared for so much, should have wished her ill.

"I tried to recall what had been said at the dinner table. Verona had spoken of Egypt and her journey back down the Nile. Lucius