Sanctuary

"In the crib."

"What were you doing in the crib?"

"I was hiding."

"Who were you hiding from?"

"From him."

"That man there? Look where I am pointing."

"Yes.,,

"But he found you."

"Yes.,,

"Was anyone else there?"

"Tommy was. He said-"

"Was he inside the crib or outside?"

"He was outside by the door. He was watching. He said he wouldn't let--"

"Just a minute. Did you ask him not to let anyone in?" "Yes.,,

"And he locked the door on the outside?"

"Yes.

"But Goodwin came in."

"Yes.

"Did he have anything in his hand?"

"He had the pistol."

"Did Tommy try to stop him?"

"Yes. He said he "

SANCTUARY 163

"Wait. What did he do to Tommy?"

She gazed at him.

"He had the pistol in his hand. What did he do then?"

"He shot him." The District Attorney stepped aside. At once the girl's

gaze went to the back of the room and became fixed there. The District

Attorney returned, stepped into her line of vision. She moved her head;

he caught her gaze and held it and lifted the stained corncob before her

eyes. The room sighed, a long hissing breath. "Did you ever see this

before?"

"Yes."

The District Attorney turned away. "Your honor and gentlemen, you have

listened to this horrible, this unbelievable, story which this young girt

has told you; you have seen the evidence and heard the doctor's

testimony; I shall no longer subject this ruined, defenseless child to

the agony of-" he ceased; the heads turned as one and watched a man come

stalking up the aisle toward the Bench. He walked steadily, paced and

followed by a slow gaping of the small white faces, a slow hissing of

collars. He had neat white hair and a clipped moustache like a bar of

hammered silver against his dark skin. His eyes were pouched a little.

A small paunch was buttoned snugly into his immaculate linen suit. He

carried a panama hat in one hand and a slender black stick in the other.

He walked steadily up the aisle in a slow expulsion of silence like a

prolonged sigh, looking to neither side. He passed the witness stand

without a glance at the witness, who still gazed at something in the back

of the room, walking right through her line of vision like a runner

crossing a tape, and stopped before the bar above which the Court had

half-risen, his arms on the desk.

"Your Honor," the old man said, "is the Court done with this witness?"

"Yes, sir, Judge," the Court said; "yes, sir. Defendant, do you waive-"

The old man turned slowly, erect above the held breaths, the little white

faces, and looked down at the six people at the counsel table. Behind him

the witness had not moved. She sat in her attitude of childish

immobility, gazing like a drugged person above the faces, toward the rear

of the room. The old man turned to her and extended his hand. She did not

move. The room expelled its breath, sucked it quickly in and held it

again. The old man touched her arm. She turned her head toward him, her

eyes blank and all pupil above the three savage spots of rouge. She put

her hand in his and rose, the platinum bag slipping from her lap to the

floor with a thin clash, gazing again at the back of the room. With the

toe of his

164 WILLIAM FAULKNER

small gleaming shoe the old man flipped the bag into the corner where the

jury-box joined the Bench, where a spittoon sat, and steadied her down

from the dais. The room breathed again as they moved on down the aisle.

Half way down the aisle the girl stopped again, slender in her smart open

coat, her blank face rigid, then she moved on, her hand in the old man's.

They returned down the aisle, the old man erect beside her, looking to

neither side, paced by that slow whisper of collars. Again the girl

stopped. She began to cringe back, her body arching slowly, her arm

tautening in the old man's grasp. He bent toward her, speaking; she moved

again, in that shrinking and rapt abasement. Four younger men were

standing stiffly erect near the exit. They stood like soldiers, staring

straight ahead until the old man and the girl reached them. Then they

moved and surrounded the other two, and in a close body, the girl hidden

among them, they moved toward the door. Here they stopped again; the girl

could be seen shrunk against the wall just inside the door, her body

arched again. She appeared to be clinging there, then the five bodies hid

her again and again in a close body the group passed through the door and

disappeared. The room breathed: a buzzing sound like a wind getting up.

It moved forward with a slow increasing rush, on above the long table

where the prisoner and the woman with the child and Horace and the

District Attorney and the Memphis lawyer sat, and across the jury and

against the Bench in a long sigh. The Memphis lawyer was sitting on his

spine, gazing dreamily out the window. The child made a fretful sound,

whimpering.

"Hush," the woman said. "Shhhhhhhh."

XXIX

THE JURY WAS OUT EIGHT MINUTES. WHEN HORACE LEFT THE courthouse it was

getting toward dusk. The tethered wagons were taking out, some of them to

face twelve and sixteen miles of country road. Narcissa was waiting for