“Did you tell anyone of what had taken place?”

“No.”

“Not even your father?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I did not wish to give him pain.”

“But you went back to Dr. Wilde’s study after the awful assault?”

“Yes.”

“You went again and again, did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Did he ever attempt to repeat the offence?”

“Yes.”

The audience was thunderstruck; the plot was deepening.  Miss Travers went on to say that the Doctor was rude to her again; she did not know his intention; he took hold of her and tried to fondle her; but she would not have it.

“After the second offence you went back?”

“Yes.”

“Did he ever repeat it again?”

“Yes.”

Miss Travers said that once again Dr. Wilde had been rude to her.

“Yet you returned again?”

“Yes.”

“And you took money from this man who had violated you against your will?”

“Yes.”

“You asked him for money?”

“Yes.”

“This is the first time you have told about this second and third assault, is it not?”

“Yes,” the witness admitted.

So far all that Miss Travers had said hung together and seemed eminently credible; but when she was questioned about the chloroform and the handkerchief she became confused.  At the outset she admitted that the handkerchief might have been a rag.  She was not certain it was a rag.  It was something she saw the doctor throw into the fire when she came to her senses.

“Had he kept it in his hands, then, all the time you were unconscious?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just to show it to you?”

The witness was silent.

When she was examined as to her knowledge of chloroform, she broke down hopelessly.  She did not know the smell of it; could not describe it; did not know whether it burnt or not; could not in fact swear that it was chloroform Dr. Wilde had used; would not swear that it was anything; believed that it was chloroform or something like it because she lost consciousness.  That was her only reason for saying that chloroform had been given to her.

Again the judge interposed with the probing question: 

“Did you say anything about chloroform in your pamphlet?”

“No,” the witness murmured.

It was manifest that the strong current of feeling in favour of Miss Travers had begun to ebb.  The story was a toothsome morsel still:  but it was regretfully admitted that the charge of rape had not been pushed home.  It was felt to be disappointing, too, that the chief prosecuting witness should have damaged her own case.

It was now the turn of the defence, and some thought the pendulum might swing back again.

Lady Wilde was called and received an enthusiastic reception.  The ordinary Irishman was willing to show at any time that he believed in his Muse, and was prepared to do more than cheer for one who had fought with her pen for “Oireland” in the Nation side by side with Tom Davis.