Crozier was about to step down when Burlingame rose.
"I wish to ask a few questions," he said.
Crozier bowed and turned, again grasping the rail of the witness-box with one hand, while with an air of cogitation and suspense he stroked his chin with the long fingers of the other hand.
"What is your name ?" asked Burlingame in a tone a little louder than he had used hitherto in the trial, indeed even louder than lawyers generally use when they want to bully a witness.

In this case it was as though he wished to summon the attention of the court.
For a second Crozier's fingers caught his chin almost spasmodically.

The real meaning of the question, what lay behind it, flashed to his mind.
He saw in lightning illumination the course Burlingame meant to pursue.
For a moment his heart seemed to stand still, and he turned slightly pale, but the blue of his eyes took on a new steely look--a look also of striking watchfulness, as of an animal conscious of its danger, yet conscious too of its power when at bay.
"What is your name ?" Burlingame asked again in a somewhat louder tone, and turned to look at the jury, as if bidding them note the hesitation of the witness; though, indeed, the waiting was so slight that none but a trickster like Burlingame would have taken advantage of it, and only then when there was much behind.
For a moment longer Crozier remained silent, getting strength, as it were, and saying to himself, "What does he know ?" and then, with a composed look of inquiry at the judge, who appeared to take no notice, he said: "I have already, in evidence, given my name to the court." "Witness, what is your name ?" again almost shouted the lawyer, with a note of indignation in his voice, as though here was a dangerous fellow committing a misdemeanour in their very presence.

He spread out his hands to the jury, as though bidding them observe, if they would, this witness hesitating in answer to a simple, primary question--a witness who had just sworn a man's life away! "What is your name ?" "James Gathorne Kerry, as I have already given it to the court," was the calm reply.
"Where do you live ?" "In Askatoon, as I have already said in evidence; and if it is necessary to give my domicile, I live at the house of Mrs.Tyndall Tynan, Pearl Street--as you know so well." The tone in which he uttered the last few words was such that even the judge pricked up his ears.
A look of hatred came into the decadent but able lawyer's face.
"Where do you live when you are at home ?" "Mrs.Tynan's house is the only home I have at present." He was outwitting the pursuer so far, but it only gained him time, as he knew; and he knew also that no suggestive hint concerning the episode at Mrs.Tynan's, when Burlingame was asked to leave her house, would be of any avail now.
"Where were you born ?" "In Ireland." "What part of Ireland ?" "County Kerry." "What place--what town or city or village in County Kerry ?" "In neither." "What house, then--what estate ?" Burlingame was more than nettled; and he sharpened his sword.
"The estate of Castlegarry." "What was your name in Ireland ?" In the short silence that followed, the quick-drawn breath of many excited and some agitated people could be heard.

Among the latter were Mrs.Tynan and her daughter and Malachi Deely; among those who held their breath in suspense were John Sibley, Studd Bradley the financier, and the Young Doctor.