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The candles were guttering in their holders. It had to be nearly midnight, and still there were witnesses slumped next to the walls in the hall outside, waiting to be called.

Colden’s broad face was haggard, his cravat askew. He looked like he’d had several rounds in the boxing ring and come out the worse. “But, Your Honor, those boys . . .”

“Are not competent to testify,” said Lansing wearily.

The next witness knew what an oath was, but admitted his testimony was all hearsay.

“I know nothing about this affair of my own knowledge—only what I’ve been told.”

Lansing turned the full force of his offended majesty on Colden. “Is this a joke, Mr. Colden? Do you intend to call everyone in the city of New York to testify? Perhaps a baby in the cradle?”

“My apologies, Your Honor. I only meant to be thorough. . . .”

“It is past midnight, Mr. Colden.” Justice Lansing sighed. “Call your next witness.”

With a certain amount of trepidation, Colden called William Blanck to the stand.

Justice Lansing regarded him with a jaundiced eye. “Your witness appears very young, Mr. Colden. How old are you, child?”

“About thirteen, sir.”

“Do you know what an oath is?” asked Justice Lansing wearily.

“No, sir—but I went to school and they taught me my prayers.”

Aaron exchanged a small, amused smile with Brockholst.

“Dismissed. How many more witnesses do you have, Mr. Colden?” demanded Justice Lansing, in awful tones.

“Ten. Or possibly eleven,” Colden admitted. “The prosecution still needs to show—”

Justice Lansing held up a hand, stopping him. “And you, counsel for the defense. I presume you have witnesses to call?”

“We do have a few,” said Brockholst, grinning. Despite their political differences, he and Lansing were old friends.

There was a murmuring on the bench as the three judges consulted. “—might go on until tomorrow evening,” Harison was saying.

“What’s happening?” demanded Ezra Weeks.

Aaron went to stand beside him. “The court is trying to determine whether to adjourn. There is no precedent for a trial going into a second day.”

Ezra Weeks had no interest in precedent. “What does that mean for Levi?”

Aaron wasn’t sure. The exhausted jurors were clearly frustrated with Colden, and his increasingly irrelevant and inadmissible parade of witnesses. On the other hand, they might convict Levi out of sheer exhaustion.

“On the whole,” Aaron said, “I believe it would be to our advantage if the court were to adjourn.”

The little surprise he had planned for Hamilton could easily wait another day.

A hush fell over the room as Justice Lansing cleared his throat. “The court is prepared to sit as long as necessary.”

“It’s two in the morning!” protested one of the jurors, the same one who had been so amused earlier by the prospect of Elma gallivanting in the nude. He didn’t sound amused anymore.

“Sir,” said the foreman, speaking on behalf of the whole. “We’re agreed that if we were to stay, we wouldn’t be able to give this business our full attention. Garrit there has already fallen asleep.”

“Huh, what?” Garrit mumbled.

“We can’t let you go home,” said Justice Lansing irritably. “Having been sworn, you must be kept away from anyone who might sway your opinion.”