Sanctuary

the bell seemed to be and where beneath the eaves the guttural pigeons

crooned, the voice of the bailiff came:

"The honorable Circuit Court of Yoknapatawpha county is now open according

to law. . . ."

Temple had on a black hat. The clerk called her name twice before she moved

and took the stand. After a while Horace realised that he was being spoken

to, a little testily, by the Court.

"Is this your witness, Mr. Benbow?"

"It is, your Honor."

"You wish her sworn and recorded?"

"I do, your Honor."

Beyond the window, beneath the unhurried pigeons, the bailiff's voice still

droned, reiterant, importunate, and detached, though the sound of the bell

had ceased.

XXV111

THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY FACED THE JURY. "I OFFER AS EVIdence this object which

was found at the scene of the crime." He held in his hand a corn-cob. It

appeared to have been dipped in dark brownish paint. "The reason this was

not offered sooner is that its bearing on the case was not made clear until

the testimony of the defendant's wife which I have just caused to be read

aloud to you gentlemen from the record.

"You have just heard the testimony of the chemist and the gynecologist-who

is, as you gentlemen know, an authority on the most sacred affairs of that

most sacred thing in life: womanhood-who says that this is no longer a

matter for the hangman, but for a bonfire of gasoline-"

"I object!" Horace said: "The prosecution is attempting to sway-"

"Sustained," the Court said. "Strike out the phrase beginning 'who says

that,' mister clerk. You may instruct the jury to disregard it, Mr. Benbow.

Keep to the matter in hand, Mr. District Attorney."

The District Attorney bowed. He turned to the witness stand, where Temple

sat. From beneath her black hat her hair escaped in tight red curls like

clots of resin. The hat bore a rhinestone ornament. Upon her black satin

lap lay a platinum bag. Her pate tan coat was open upon a shoulder knot of

purple. Her hands lay motionless, palm-up on her lap. Her long blonde legs

slanted, lax-ankled, her two motionless slip-

SANCTUARY 161

pers with their glittering buckles lay on their sides as though empty.

Above the ranked intent faces white and pallid as the floating bellies of

dead fish, she sat in an attitude at once detached and cringing, her gaze

fixed on something at the back of the room. Her face was quite pale, the

two spots of rouge like paper discs pasted on her cheek bones, her mouth

painted into a savage and perfect bow, also like something both symbolical

and cryptic cut carefully from purple paper and pasted there.

The District Attorney stood before her.

"What is your name?" She did not answer. She moved her head slightly, as

though he had obstructed her view, gazing at something in the back of the

room. "What is your name?" he repeated, moving also, into the line of her

vision again. Her mouth moved. "Louder," he said. "Speak out. No one will

hurt you. Let these good men, these fathers and husbands, hear what you

have to say and right your wrong for you."

The Court glanced at Horace, his eyebrows raised. But Horace made no

move. He sat with his head bent a little, his hands clutched in his lap.

"Temple Drake," Temple said.

"Your age?"

"Eighteen."

"Where is your home?"

"Memphis," she said in a scarce distinguishable voice.

"Speak a little louder. These men will not hurt you. They are here to

right the wrong you have suffered. Where did you live before you went to

Memphis?"

"In Jackson."

"Have you relations there?"

"Yes.

"Come. Tell these good men--?'

"My father."

"Your mother is dead?"

"Yes."

"Have you any sisters?"

"No.

"You are your father's only daughter?"

Again the Court looked at Horace; again he made no move. "Yes.,'

"Where have you been living since May twelfth of this year?" Her head

moved faintly, as though she would see beyond him. He moved into her line

of vision, holding her eyes. She stared at him again, giving her

parrotlike answers.

"Did your father know you were there?"

'No.

"Where did he think you were?"

162 WILLIAM FAULKNER

"He thought I was in school."

"You were in hiding, then, because something had happened to you and you

dared not-"

"I object!" Horace said. "The question is lead-"

"Sustained," the Court said. "I have been on the point of warning you for

some time, Mr. Attorney, but defendant would not take exception for some

reason."

The District Attorney bowed toward the Bench. He turned to the witness and

held her eyes again.

"Where were you on Sunday morning, May twelfth?"

"I was in the crib."

The room sighed, its collective breath hissing in the musty silence. Some

newcomers entered, but they stopped at the rear of the room in a clump and

stood there. Temple's head had moved again. The District Attorney caught

her gaze and held it. He half turned and pointed at Goodwin.

"Did you ever see that man before?" She gazed at the District Attorney, her

face quite rigid, empty. From a short distance her eyes, the two spots of

rouge and her mouth, were like five meaningless objects in a small

heart-shaped dish. "Look where I am pointing."

"Yes.,,

"Where did you see him?"