Dick Shand had not been there, because he had always been her enemy, and had tried to prevent the marriage.  And she was quite clear about the letter.  There was a great deal said about the letter.  She was sure that the envelope with the letter had come to her at Ahalala by post from Sydney when her husband was at the latter place.  The Sydney postmark with the date was very plain.  There was much said as to the accuracy and clearness of the Sydney postmark, and something as to the absence of any postmark at Nobble.  She could not account for the absence of the Nobble postmark.  She was aware that letters were stamped at Nobble generally.  Mr. Allan, she said, had himself handed to her the copy of the register almost immediately after the marriage, but she could not say by whom it had been copied.  The letter purporting to be from Mr. Allan to her husband was no doubt, she said, in the minister’s handwriting.  Caldigate had showed it to her before their marriage, and she had kept it without any opposition from him.  Then she was asked as to her residence after her marriage, and here she was less clear.  She had lived with him first at Ahalala and then at Nobble, but she could not say for how long.  It had been off and on.  There had been quarrels, and after a time they had agreed to part.  She had received from him a certain amount of mining shares and of money, and had undertaken in return never to bother him any more.  There was a great deal said about times and dates, which left an impression upon those around her in the court that she was less sure of her facts than a woman in such circumstances naturally would have been.

Then Sir John produced the letter which she had written to Caldigate, and in which she had distinctly offered to marry Crinkett if the money demanded were paid.  She must have expected the production of this letter, but still, for a few moments, it silenced her.  ‘Yes,’ she said, at last, ‘I wrote it.’

‘And the money you demanded has been paid?’

’Yes, it has been paid.  But not then.  It was not paid till we came over.’

‘But if it had been paid then you would have—­married Mr. Crinkett?’ Sir John’s manner as he asked the question was so gentle and so soft that it was felt by all to contain an apology for intruding on so delicate a subject.  But when she hesitated, he did, after a pause, renew his inquiry in another form.  ’Perhaps this was only a threat, and you had no purpose of carrying it out.’

Then she plucked up her courage.  ‘I have not married him,’ she said.

‘But did you intend it?’

’I did.  What were the laws to me out there?  He had left me and had taken another wife.  I had to do the best for myself.  I did intend it.  But I didn’t do it.  A woman can’t be tried for her intentions.’

‘No,’ said Sir John.  ‘But she may be judged by her intentions.’

Then she was asked why she had not gone when she had got the money, according to her promise.  ‘He defied us,’ she said, ’and called us bad names,—­liars and perjurers.  He knew that we were not liars.  And then we were watched and told that we might not go.  As he said that he was indifferent, I was willing enough to stay and see it out.’