Ford asked.

"I give him that ear." Greenglove pointed in the general direction of
Auguste's right ear. "Hoped he'd be smart enough to play possum after he
was hit."

"Why did you choose not to kill Auguste? Did you think it would be
murder?"

Greenglove cackled scornfully. "Hell, that never stopped me before. No,
it was real simple." He paused, and the courtroom was still. "I saved
that boy's life because I wanted Colonel Raoul to marry my daughter,
Clarissa."

And suddenly Eli Greenglove started to cry. Tears ran down his bony
cheeks and sobs shook his lean frame.

Ford stood looking wide-eyed, turned to stare at Auguste, who himself
was dumbfounded, having never seen a man like Eli Greenglove cry.

Bennett broke the embarrassed silence. "Your Honor, I don't see what
this man's daughter has to do with the case."

Greenglove's moist eyes narrowed to angry slits. "Just shut up a minute,
lawyer, and I'll tell you. My daughter lived with Raoul de Marion for
seven years and bore him two kids, but he wouldn't marry her because she
weren't good enough for him. No, he had to have the preacher's daughter.
That lady, Miss Hale." He pointed toward the spectators. "But she was
sweet on Mr. Pierre's boy, Auguste, and I could see he had an eye for
her too. As long as Auguste was alive, I figured there'd be a chance
that Miss Hale would run off with him. So I made sure to keep him
alive."

Auguste's heart sank. If the jury believed what Greenglove was saying
now, wouldn't that make them think that there must have been something
between him and Nancy when she was kidnapped by the Sauk?

Greenglove's lips drew back from his stained teeth. "But then that
sonofabitch Raoul had to go and kill Black Hawk's men that brought the
white flag. There weren't no real war before that happened. If he'd sent
them messengers on to General Atkinson, the whole thing would've been
over in May. Every one of them white people, soldiers and farmers, men,
women and children, was killed by that man there." He pointed a skinny
finger in Raoul's direction. "Meanin' my daughter Clarissa and my two
grandkids."

"Your daughter was a slut, Greenglove," Raoul shouted. "I'd've never
married her if she lived to be a hundred." Auguste turned and saw him
standing in the back of the courtroom, Perrault and a few more of his
bully boys flanking him.

"Oh?" said Greenglove in a whisper that somehow was loud enough for the
whole court to hear. "You are very