The death of Sir Willoughby occurred within so short a period of the
assizes, that the immediate approach of Alfred's trial gave to the whole
terrific transaction the character of a sudden and awful thunder-storm.
Lady Arden and her son, desirous of supporting each other, mutually
acted a part painful to both, incessantly concealing their feelings, and
denying themselves the solace of unreserved intercourse: whatever their
separate thoughts were, neither would confess to the other that they had
any apprehensions as to the result of the approaching trial. And yet the
conduct of their legal advisers was by no means calculated to inspire
confidence. These gentlemen looked extremely grave, asked both Alfred
and Lady Arden many questions, and seemed much disappointed at their
replies. They were agreed in opinion that the chain of circumstantial
evidence was unbroken--almost irresistible; and that the only defence
which could be set up was the insanity, and consequently possible
suicide of Sir Willoughby.
While the idea of his being insane, never having been entertained by any
one but Sir Alfred, nor even by Sir Alfred himself suggested to any one,
till after he, Sir Alfred, was actually accused of the murder, it was to
be feared the plea would not even be listened to. And yet the idea of
Sir Willoughby's having wilfully taken poison, while in possession of
his right mind, was still more unlikely to be heard, from his very
advantageous circumstances at all times, and the peculiarly happy
prospects he at that particular crisis enjoyed. The combinations and
coincidences too of trivial events were no less untoward; for all of
those, and they were many, which told against our hero, could be
established by a host of creditable witnesses; whilst the few which were
in his favour were known to no human being but himself; nor had he even
spoken of them to any one, until, as in the former plea, after he had
been accused. Alfred had a faint and rather confused remembrance of
having said something of his motives to Geoffery, in the first moments
of affliction. He mentioned this to his lawyers. They had a conference
with Mr. Arden on the subject. He replied, but without entering into any
explanation, that if they chose to put him in the witness box, he should
esteem himself happy, if any thing he could say with truth, should have
any tendency to exculpate his cousin. He was accordingly subpoened,
and was the only witness for the defence.
The plea of Sir Alfred's amiable and honourable character rendering it
highly improbable that he should have committed such a crime; though it
must be felt by all, and with his immediate circle of friends and
intimates, was all sufficient, could not weigh one feather as evidence.
We had, unhappily, instances of persons previously of unblemished
character, departing from that character in practice, when strongly
tempted by passion, revenge, or avarice; and in this case all these
incentives seemed to have been united.
Opinions so alarming, were of course not distinctly stated by the
lawyers, either to Lady Arden, or to Alfred. To have done so, would have
been an unnecessary degree of cruelty. But such were the sentiments they
entertained, and much of which could be implied, not only from their
whole demeanor, but, as we have already said, both from the anxious
questions they put, and the evasive answers they gave. All this had a
fearful effect on the feelings of Lady Arden: concealed agony, and
constant fever, were devouring the vital energies, while her mind laid
waste, as it were, by so immeasurable, so incomprehensible a calamity,
seemed defenceless against the superstitious impressions and wild images
of horror which wearied her spirit and aggravated her sufferings, by the
ceaseless importunity with which they blended themselves unbidden with
the wretched realities of the hour.
The presence of Geoffery too, which she was occasionally compelled to
endure, was terrible to her feelings. She literally shuddered as she
looked on the man who was destined, should her most horrible
apprehensions be realized, to fill the place of both her sons. And
notwithstanding the subdued air of solemnity and sorrow he
hypocritically assumed in her presence, she found it impossible to
divest herself of the idea that she could detect triumph lurking in the
depths of his sinister eye; and that his hard spare lips were more than
usually compressed, to prevent the corners of his mouth from curling
with a fiendish joy; for of such a feeling she did inwardly accuse him.
With what thoughts would she have viewed him, could she have known that
he was, through his secret emissaries, labouring at the very moment to
fix upon the innocent Alfred that horrible accusation, of which he alone
could have proved him innocent; but this was a degree of wickedness of
which she was incapable of conceiving the idea. She could not suspect
even Geoffery of such.
With the gentlemen of the country too, Geoffery attempted to act a part
which in fact he greatly over-acted. He sought every opportunity to
dwell at great length on the painful and delicate situation in which he
was placed. He sincerely hoped, he said, that Sir Alfred might be fully
cleared of so revolting an accusation; yet he confessed he could not
himself see how the distinct chain of circumstantial evidence, which had
already appeared, was to be got over. He hoped, however, that something
favourable might come out on the trial, and most especially he hoped
that he might not be called upon to take any part whatever. Yet, if it
was indeed possible that Sir Alfred was guilty, he could not wish to see
him escape the just punishment his aggravated crime would, in that case,
so fully merit; nay, such he declared was his indignation when he took
this view of the subject, that if it were not fortunately the duty of
the crown to prosecute, he should feel himself called upon--nay, bound
to do so; bound to sacrifice every private feeling towards the offender,
and as the nearest male relative of poor Sir Willoughby, stand forward
the avenger of his untimely end. Yet as he had, he might say, the
misfortune to be the next heir to the property, he considered it a happy
circumstance that he was not obliged to act, what some might consider an
invidious part. He used the expression misfortune, for it certainly
would be a misfortune to inherit a venerable family property through the
medium of a catastrophe so awful, and what was even worse, so
disgraceful; in fact, should the affair so terminate, it was more than
probable that he should become almost an exile from the family mansion,
at least for many years; he did not know indeed that he should ever be
able to bring himself to live at Arden.
These indelicate communications, though murmured in an under tone, and
given as much as possible the air of individual confidences, were, from
time to time, forced on as many hearers as Geoffery could obtain; for it
was not all who would listen to him--many, and those some of the leading
men of the country, were indignant at the attempt to bring such an
accusation against our hero.
The funeral of Sir Willoughby was naturally delayed by the committal of
Alfred, under whose authority the preparations had been proceeding. No
one seemed aware what was to be done, or whose orders were to be given
and received. Geoffery indeed was disposed to take upon himself the
command, as well as the part of chief mourner, in Alfred's place, but
this Lady Arden arrived in time to prevent.
When appealed to, she clasped her hands and raised her eyes to heaven
for a few moments, as if she there sought counsel, then with admirable
dignity and presence of mind, she ordered that the solemn preparations
should stand still till the necessary forms of law having been gone
through, her son should be at liberty to take his place at the head of
his brother's grave; inferring thus, by her reply, that there existed
not a doubt of Alfred's innocence being established.
Accordingly, in pursuance of these commands, the remains of her eldest
son still lay in state at Arden, when the anxious day arrived on which
her younger son was to stand at the bar of justice, arraigned for the
murder of his brother.
While thus Lady Arden proudly strove to have it thought, nay, if
possible to think herself, that she had no fears for Alfred; how, but by
the absorbing nature of her fears for him was the blunted state of her
feelings on all other subjects to be accounted for. The death of
Willoughby, had it come alone, with what deep sorrow would it have
afflicted her; and how greatly would that sorrow have been aggravated,
by but a suspicion that he had committed the awful act of suicide; yet
to have that suspicion proved beyond a doubt, was now the only hope of
her existence; while the simple fact of Willoughby's death was driven by
the exigences of the hour from its natural position in her mind, and
viewed as it were in the distance of memory, like a sorrow long gone by,
solemnly but calmly. Were Alfred safe, his honour and his precious life
rescued from the frightful peril they were in, her heart told her that
all grief would be forgotten, and joy unspeakable would be her portion.