Voyages of Doctor Dolittle (version 3 Dramatic Reading) — Part 2 Chapters 5-8
_THE FIFTH CHAPTER_
MENDOZA
INSIDE the court-room everything was very solemn and wonderful.
It was a high, big room.
Raised above the floor, against the wall was the Judge’s desk; and here the judge was already sitting—an old, handsome man in a marvelous big wig of gray hair and a gown of black.
Below him was another wide, long desk at which lawyers in white wigs sat.
The whole thing reminded me of a mixture between a church and a school.
“Those twelve men at the side,” whispered the Doctor—“those in pews like a choir, they are what is called the jury.
It is they who decide whether Luke is guilty—whether he did it or not.
” “And look!
” I said, “there’s Luke himself in a sort of pulpit-thing with policemen each side of him.
And there’s another pulpit, the same kind, the other side of the room, see—only that one’s empty.
” “That one is called the witness-box,” said the Doctor.
“Now I’m going down to speak to one of those men in white wigs; and I want you to wait here and keep these two seats for us.
Bob will stay with you.
Keep an eye on him—better hold on to his collar.
I shan’t be more than a minute or so.
” With that the Doctor disappeared into the crowd which filled the main part of the room.
Then I saw the judge take up a funny little wooden hammer and knock on his desk with it.
This, it seemed, was to make people keep quiet, for immediately every one stopped buzzing and talking and began to listen very respectfully.
Then another man in a black gown stood up and began reading from a paper in his hand.
He mumbled away exactly as though he were saying his prayers and didn’t want any one to understand what language they were in.
But I managed to catch a few words: “_Biz—biz—biz—biz—biz_—otherwise known as Luke the Hermit, of—_biz—biz—biz—biz_—for killing his partner with—_biz—biz—biz_—otherwise known as Bluebeard Bill on the night of the—_biz—biz—biz_—in the _biz—biz—biz_—of Mexico.
Therefore Her Majesty’s—_biz—biz—biz_—” At this moment I felt some one take hold of my arm from the back, and turning round I found the Doctor had returned with one of the men in white wigs.
“Stubbins, this is Mr. Percy Jenkyns,” said the Doctor.
“He is Luke’s lawyer.
It is his business to get Luke off—if he can.
” Mr. Jenkyns seemed to be an extremely young man with a round smooth face like a boy.
He shook hands with me and then immediately turned and went on talking with the Doctor.
“Oh, I think it is a perfectly precious idea,” he was saying.
“Of _course_ the dog must be admitted as a witness; he was the only one who saw the thing take place.
I’m awfully glad you came.
I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.
My hat!
Won’t it make the old court sit up?
They’re always frightfully dull, these Assizes.
But this will stir things.
A bulldog witness for the defense!
I do hope there are plenty of reporters present—Yes, there’s one making a sketch of the prisoner.
I shall become known after this—And won’t Conkey be pleased?
My hat!
” He put his hand over his mouth to smother a laugh and his eyes fairly sparkled with mischief.
“Who is Conkey?
” I asked the Doctor.
“Sh!
He is speaking of the judge up there, the Honorable Eustace Beauchamp Conckley.
” “Now,” said Mr. Jenkyns, bringing out a note-book, “tell me a little more about yourself, Doctor.
You took your degree as Doctor of Medicine at Durham, I think you said.
And the name of your last book was?
” I could not hear any more for they talked in whispers; and I fell to looking round the court again.
Of course I could not understand everything that was going on, though it was all very interesting.
People kept getting up in the place the Doctor called the witness-box, and the lawyers at the long table asked them questions about “the night of the 29th.
” Then the people would get down again and somebody else would get up and be questioned.
One of the lawyers (who, the Doctor told me afterwards, was called the Prosecutor) seemed to be doing his best to get the Hermit into trouble by asking questions which made it look as though he had always been a very bad man.
He was a nasty lawyer, this Prosecutor, with a long nose.
Most of the time I could hardly keep my eyes off poor Luke, who sat there between his two policemen, staring at the floor as though he weren’t interested.
The only time I saw him take any notice at all was when a small dark man with wicked, little, watery eyes got up into the witness-box.
I heard Bob snarl under my chair as this person came into the court-room and Luke’s eyes just blazed with anger and contempt.
This man said his name was Mendoza and that he was the one who had guided the Mexican police to the mine after Bluebeard Bill had been killed.
And at every word he said I could hear Bob down below me muttering between his teeth, “It’s a lie!
It’s a lie!
I’ll chew his face.
It’s a lie!
” And both the Doctor and I had hard work keeping the dog under the seat.
Then I noticed that our Mr. Jenkyns had disappeared from the Doctor’s side.
But presently I saw him stand up at the long table to speak to the judge.
“Your Honor,” said he, “I wish to introduce a new witness for the defense, Doctor John Dolittle, the naturalist.
Will you please step into the witness-stand, Doctor?
” There was a buzz of excitement as the Doctor made his way across the crowded room; and I noticed the nasty lawyer with the long nose lean down and whisper something to a friend, smiling in an ugly way which made me want to pinch him.
Then Mr. Jenkyns asked the Doctor a whole lot of questions about himself and made him answer in a loud voice so the whole court could hear.
He finished up by saying, “And you are prepared to swear, Doctor Dolittle, that you understand the language of dogs and can make them understand you.
Is that so?
” “Yes,” said the Doctor, “that is so.
” “And what, might I ask,” put in the judge in a very quiet, dignified voice, “has all this to do with the killing of er—er—Bluebeard Bill?
” “This, Your Honor,” said Mr. Jenkyns, talking in a very grand manner as though he were on a stage in a theatre: “there is in this court-room at the present moment a bulldog, who was the only living thing that saw the man killed.
With the Court’s permission I propose to put that dog in the witness-stand and have him questioned before you by the eminent scientist, Doctor John Dolittle.
” _THE SIXTH CHAPTER_
THE JUDGE’S DOG
AT first there was a dead silence in the Court.
Then everybody began whispering or giggling at the same time, till the whole room sounded like a great hive of bees.
Many people seemed to be shocked; most of them were amused; and a few were angry.
Presently up sprang the nasty lawyer with the long nose.
“I protest, Your Honor,” he cried, waving his arms wildly to the judge.
“I object.
The dignity of this court is in peril.
I protest.
” “I am the one to take care of the dignity of this court,” said the judge.
Then Mr. Jenkyns got up again.
(If it hadn’t been such a serious matter, it was almost like a Punch-and-Judy show: somebody was always popping down and somebody else popping up).
“If there is any doubt on the score of our being able to do as we say, Your Honor will have no objection, I trust, to the Doctor’s giving the Court a demonstration of his powers—of showing that he actually can understand the speech of animals?
” I thought I saw a twinkle of amusement come into the old judge’s eyes as he sat considering a moment before he answered.
“No,” he said at last, “I don’t think so.
” Then he turned to the Doctor.
“Are you quite sure you can do this?
” he asked.
“Quite, Your Honor,” said the Doctor—“quite sure.
” “Very well then,” said the judge.
“If you can satisfy us that you really are able to understand canine testimony, the dog shall be admitted as a witness.
I do not see, in that case, how I could object to his being heard.
But I warn you that if you are trying to make a laughing-stock of this Court it will go hard with you.
” “I protest, I protest!
” yelled the long-nosed Prosecutor.
“This is a scandal, an outrage to the Bar!
” “Sit down!
” said the judge in a very stern voice.
“What animal does Your Honor wish me to talk with?
” asked the Doctor.
“I would like you to talk to my own dog,” said the judge.
“He is outside in the cloak-room.
I will have him brought in; and then we shall see what you can do.
” Then someone went out and fetched the judge’s dog, a lovely great Russian wolf-hound with slender legs and a shaggy coat.
He was a proud and beautiful creature.
“Now, Doctor,” said the judge, “did you ever see this dog before?
—Remember you are in the witness-stand and under oath.
” “No, Your Honor, I never saw him before.
” “Very well then, will you please ask him to tell you what I had for supper last night?
He was with me and watched me while I ate.
” Then the Doctor and the dog started talking to one another in signs and sounds; and they kept at it for quite a long time.
And the Doctor began to giggle and get so interested that he seemed to forget all about the Court and the judge and everything else.
“What a time he takes!
” I heard a fat woman in front of me whispering.
“He’s only pretending.
Of course he can’t do it!
Who ever heard of talking to a dog?
He must think we’re children.
” “Haven’t you finished yet?
” the judge asked the Doctor.
“It shouldn’t take 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 to my question.
” “He says you had a mutton-chop, two baked potatoes, a pickled walnut and 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 a prize-fight and then sat up playing cards for money till twelve o’clock and came home singing, ‘We won’t get—’” “That will do,” the judge interrupted, “I am satisfied you can do as you 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 ends the matter.
Put the witness in the stand.
” And then for the first time in the solemn history of England a dog was put in the witness-stand of Her Majesty’s Court of Assizes.
And it was I, Tommy Stubbins (when the Doctor made a sign to me across the room) who proudly led Bob up the aisle, through the astonished crowd, past the frowning, spluttering, long-nosed Prosecutor, and made him comfortable on a high chair in the witness-box; from where the old bulldog sat scowling down over the rail upon the amazed and gaping jury.
[Illustration: “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 Doctor to ask Bob what he saw on the “night of the 29th;” and when Bob had told all he knew and the Doctor had turned it into English for the judge and the jury, this was what he had to say: “On the night of the 29th of November, 1824, I was with my master, Luke Fitzjohn (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 been hunting for gold; and they had dug a deep hole in the ground.
On the morning of the 29th gold was discovered, lots of it, at the bottom of this hole.
And all three, my master and his two partners, were very happy about it because now they would be rich.
But Manuel Mendoza asked Bluebeard Bill to go for a walk with him.
These two men I had always suspected of being bad.
So when I noticed that they left my master behind, I followed them secretly to see what they were up to.
And in a deep cave in the mountains I heard them arrange together to kill Luke the 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 out when 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 very hard to make him understand that his partners were dangerous men.
But it was no use.
He did not understand dog language.
So I did the next best thing: I never let him out of my sight but stayed with him every moment of the day and night.
“Now the hole that they had made was so deep that to get down and up it you had to go in a big bucket tied on the end of a rope; and the three men used to haul one another up and let one another down the mine in 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 the top of the mine, hauling up Bluebeard Bill who was in the bucket.
Just as he had got Bill halfway up I saw Mendoza come out of the hut where we all lived.
Mendoza thought that Bill was away buying groceries.
But he wasn’t: he was in the bucket.
And when Mendoza saw Luke hauling and straining on the rope he thought he was pulling up a bucketful of gold.
So he drew a pistol from his pocket and came sneaking up behind Luke to shoot him.
“I barked and barked to warn my master of the danger he was in; but he was so busy hauling up Bill (who was a heavy fat man) that he took no notice of me.
I saw that if I didn’t do something quick he would surely be shot.
So I did a thing I’ve never done before: suddenly and savagely I bit my master in the leg from behind.
Luke was so hurt and startled that he did just what I wanted him to do: he let go the rope with both hands at once and turned round.
And then, _Crash!
_ down went Bill in his bucket to the bottom of the mine and he was killed.
“While my master was busy scolding me Mendoza put his pistol in his pocket, 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 mine to himself when Luke should be put in prison.
Then he jumped on his horse and galloped away.
“And soon my master grew afraid; for he saw that if Mendoza only told enough lies to the police, it _would_ look as though he had killed Bill on purpose.
So while Mendoza was gone he and I stole away together secretly and came to England.
Here he shaved off his beard and became a hermit.
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 among the twelve men of the jury was positively terrific.
One, a very old man with white hair, began to weep in a loud voice at the thought of poor Luke hiding on the fen for fifteen years for something he couldn’t help.
And all the others set to whispering and nodding their heads to one another.
In the middle of all this up got that horrible Prosecutor again, waving his 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.
I
object.
I protest.
” “Very well,” said the judge, “you are at liberty to cross-examine.
It is your duty as Prosecutor to prove his evidence untrue.
There is the dog: question him, if you do not believe what he says.
” I thought the long-nosed lawyer would have a fit.
He looked first at the dog, then at the Doctor, then at the judge, then back at the dog scowling from the witness-box.
He opened his mouth to say something;
but no words came.
He waved his arms some more.
His face got redder and redder.
At last, clutching his forehead, he sank weakly into his seat and had to be helped out of the court-room by two friends.
As he was half carried through the door he was still feebly murmuring, “I protest—I object—I protest!
” _THE EIGHTH CHAPTER_
THREE CHEERS
NEXT the judge made a very long speech to the jury; and when it was over all the twelve jurymen got up and went out into the next room.
And at 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 minds whether the prisoner did it or not.
” “Couldn’t you and Bob go in with them and help them make up their minds the right way?
” I asked.
“No, that’s not allowed.
They have to talk it over in secret.
Sometimes it takes—My Gracious, look, they’re coming back already!
They didn’t spend long over it.
” Everybody kept quite still while the twelve men came tramping back into their places in the pews.
Then one of them, the leader—a little man—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.
You could have heard a pin drop while the whole court-room, the whole of Puddleby in fact, waited with craning necks and straining ears to hear the weighty words.
“Your Honor,” said the little man, “the jury returns a verdict of _Not Guilty_.
” “What’s that mean?
” I asked, turning to the Doctor.
But I found Doctor John Dolittle, the famous naturalist, standing on top 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 to be jumping up on chairs like the Doctor.
The crowd had suddenly gone crazy.
All the people were laughing and calling and waving to Luke to show him how glad they were that he was free.
The noise was deafening.
Then it stopped.
All was quiet again; and the people stood up respectfully while the judge left the Court.
For the trial of Luke the Hermit, that famous trial which to this day they are still talking of in Puddleby, was over.
In the hush while the judge was leaving, a sudden shriek rang out, and there, in the doorway stood a woman, her arms out-stretched to the Hermit.
“Luke!
” she cried, “I’ve found you at last!
” “It’s his wife,” the fat woman in front of me whispered.
“She ain’t seen ’im in fifteen years, poor dear!
What a lovely re-union.
I’m glad I came.
I wouldn’t have missed this for anything!
” As soon as the judge had gone the noise broke out again; and now the folks gathered round Luke and his wife and shook them by the hand and congratulated them and laughed over them and cried over them.
“Come along, Stubbins,” said the Doctor, taking me by the arm, “let’s get out of this while we can.
” “But aren’t you going to speak to Luke?
” I said—“to ask him if he’ll come on the voyage?
” “It wouldn’t be a bit of use,” said the Doctor.
“His wife’s come for him.
No man stands any chance of going on a voyage when his wife hasn’t seen him in fifteen years.
Come along.
Let’s get home to tea.
We didn’t have any lunch, remember.
And we’ve earned something to eat.
We’ll have one of those mixed meals, lunch and tea combined—with watercress and ham.
Nice change.
Come along.
” Just as we were going to step out at a side door I heard the crowd shouting, “The Doctor!
The Doctor!
Where’s the Doctor?
The Hermit would have hanged 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 make a speech in the market-place.
” “Beg them to excuse me,” said the Doctor—“with my compliments.
I have an 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 found another crowd waiting for him at the side door.
“Let’s go up that alleyway—to the left.
Quick!
—Run!
” We took to our heels, darted through a couple of side streets and just managed to get away from the crowd.
It was not till we had gained the Oxenthorpe Road that we dared to slow down to a walk and take our breath.
And even when we reached the Doctor’s gate and turned to look backwards towards the town, the faint murmur 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 it was 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_
