IN WHICH A HEAVENLY WITNESS APPEARS WHO CANNOT BE CROSS-EXAMINED, AND
BEFORE WHICH THE DEFENSE UTTERLY BREAKS DOWN.
At the re-assembling of the Court, a large crowd had come in. Those who
had heard the request of Mr. Balfour had reported what was going on,
and, as the promised testimony seemed to involve some curious features,
the court-room presented the most crowded appearance that it had worn
since the beginning of the trial.
Mr. Belcher had grown old during the hour. His consciousness of guilt,
his fear of exposure, the threatened loss of his fortune, and the
apprehension of a retribution of disgrace were sapping his vital forces,
minute by minute. All the instruments that he had tried to use for his
own base purposes were turned against himself. The great world that had
glittered around the successful man was growing dark, and, what was
worse, there were none to pity him. He had lived for himself; and now,
in his hour of trouble, no one was true to him, no one loved him--not
even his wife and children!
He gave a helpless, hopeless sigh, as Mr. Balfour called to the witness
stand Prof. Albert Timms.
Prof. Timms was the man already described among the three new witnesses,
as the one who seemed to be conscious of bearing the world upon his
shoulders, and to find it so inconsiderable a burden. He advanced to the
stand with the air of one who had no stake in the contest. His
impartiality came from indifference. He had an opportunity to show his
knowledge and his skill, and he delighted in it.
"What is your name, witness?" inquired Mr. Balfour.
"Albert Timms, at your service."
"What is your calling, sir?"
"I have at present the charge of a department in the School of Mines. My
specialties are chemistry and microscopy."
"You are specially acquainted with these branches of natural science,
then."
"I am, sir."
"Have you been regarded as an expert in the detection of forgery?"
"I have been called as such in many cases of the kind, sir."
"Then you have had a good deal of experience in such things, and in the
various tests by which such matters are determined?"
"I have, sir."
"Have you examined the assignment and the autograph letters which have
been in your hands during the recess of the Court?"
"I have, sir."
"Do you know either the plaintiff or the defendant in this case?"
"I do not, sir. I never saw either of them until to-day."
"Has any one told you about the nature of these papers, so as to
prejudice your mind in regard to any of them?"
"No, sir. I have not exchanged a word with any one in regard to them."
"What is your opinion of the two letters?"
"That they are veritable autographs."
"How do you judge this?"
"From the harmony of the signatures with the text of the body of the
letters, by the free and natural shaping and interflowing of the lines,
and by a general impression of truthfulness which it is very difficult
to communicate in words."
"What do you think of the signatures to the assignment?"
"I think they are all counterfeits but one."
"Prof. Timms, this is a serious matter. You should be very sure of the
truth of a statement like this. You say you think they are counterfeits:
why?"
"If the papers can be handed to me," said the witness, "I will show what
leads me to think so."
The papers were handed to him, and, placing the letters on the bar on
which he had been leaning, he drew from his pocket a little rule, and
laid it lengthwise along the signature of Nicholas Johnson. Having
recorded the measurement, he next took the corresponding name on the
assignment.
"I find the name of Nicholas Johnson of exactly the same length on the
assignment that it occupies on the letter," said he.
"Is that a suspicious circumstance?"
"It is, and, moreover," (going on with his measurements) "there is not
the slightest variation between the two signatures in the length of a
letter. Indeed, to the naked eye, one signature is the counterpart of
the other, in every characteristic."
"How do you determine, then, that it is anything but a genuine
signature?"
"The imitation is too nearly perfect."
"How can that be?"
"Well; no man writes his signature twice alike. There is not one chance
in a million that he will do so, without definitely attempting to do so,
and then he will be obliged to use certain appliances to guide him."
"Now will you apply the same test to the other signature?"
Prof. Timms went carefully to work again with his measure. He examined
the form of every letter in detail, and compared it with its twin, and
declared, at the close of his examination, that he found the second name
as close a counterfeit as the first.
"Both names on the assignment, then, are exact fac-similes of the names
on the autograph letters," said Mr. Balfour.
"They are, indeed, sir--quite wonderful reproductions."
"The work must have been done, then, by a very skillful man," said Mr.
Balfour.
The professor shook his head pityingly. "Oh, no, sir," he said. "None
but bunglers ever undertake a job like this. Here, sir, are two forged
signatures. If one genuine signature, standing alone, has one chance in
a million of being exactly like any previous signature of the writer,
two standing together have not one chance in ten millions of being exact
fac-similes of two others brought together by chance.
"How were these fac-similes produced?" inquired Mr. Balfour.
"They could only have been produced by tracing first with a pencil,
directly over the signature to be counterfeited."
"Well, this seems very reasonable, but have you any further tests?"
"Under this magnifying glass," said the professor, pushing along his
examination at the same time, "I see a marked difference between the
signatures on the two papers, which is not apparent to the naked eye.
The letters of the genuine autograph have smooth, unhesitating lines;
those of the counterfeits present certain minute irregularities that are
inseparable from pains-taking and slow execution. Unless the Court and
the jury are accustomed to the use of a glass, and to examinations of
this particular character, they will hardly be able to see just what I
describe, but I have an experiment which will convince them that I am
right."
"Can you perform this experiment here, and now?"
"I can, sir, provided the Court will permit me to establish the
necessary conditions. I must darken the room, and as I notice that the
windows are all furnished with shutters, the matter may be very quickly
and easily accomplished."
"Will you describe the nature of your experiment?"
"Well, sir, during the recess of the Court, I have had photographed upon
glass all the signatures. These, with the aid of a solar microscope, I
can project upon the wall behind the jury, immensely enlarged, so that
the peculiarities I have described may be detected by every eye in the
house, with others, probably, if the sun remains bright and strong, that
I have not alluded to."
"The experiment will be permitted," said the judge, "and the officers
and the janitor will give the Professor all the assistance he needs."
Gradually, as the shutters were closed, the room grew dark, and the
faces of Judge, Jury and the anxious-looking parties within the bar grew
weird and wan among the shadows. A strange silence and awe descended
upon the crowd. The great sun in heaven was summoned as a witness, and
the sun would not lie. A voice was to speak to them from a hundred
millions of miles away--a hundred millions of miles near the realm
toward which men looked when they dreamed of the Great White Throne.
They felt as a man might feel, were he conscious, in the darkness of the
tomb, when waiting for the trump of the resurrection and the breaking of
the everlasting day. Men heard their own hearts beat, like the tramp of
trooping hosts; yet there was one man who was glad of the darkness. To
him the judgment day had come; and the closing shutters were the rocks
that covered him. He could see and not be seen. He could behold his own
shame and not be conscious that five hundred eyes were upon him.
All attention was turned to the single pair of shutters not entirely
closed. Outside of these, the professor had established his heliostat,
and then gradually, by the aid of drapery, he narrowed down the entrance
of light to a little aperture where a single silver bar entered and
pierced the darkness like a spear. Then this was closed by the insertion
of his microscope, and, leaving his apparatus in the hands of an
assistant, he felt his way back to his old position.
"May it please the Court, I am ready for the experiment," he said.
"The witness will proceed," said the judge.
"There will soon appear upon the wall, above the heads of the Jury,"
said Prof. Timms, "the genuine signature of Nicholas Johnson, as it has
been photographed from the autograph letter. I wish the Judge and Jury
to notice two things in this signature--the cleanly-cut edges of the
letters, and the two lines of indentation produced by the two prongs of
the pen, in its down-stroke. They will also notice that, in the
up-stroke of the pen, there is no evidence of indentation whatever. At
the point where the up-stroke begins, and the down-stroke ends, the
lines of indentation will come together and cease."
As he spoke the last word, the name swept through the darkness over an
unseen track, and appeared upon the wall, within a halo of amber light.
All eyes saw it, and all found the characteristics that had been
predicted. The professor said not a word. There was not a whisper in the
room. When a long minute had passed, the light was shut off.
"Now," said the professor, "I will show you in the same place, the name
of Nicholas Johnson, as it has been photographed from the signatures to
the assignment. What I wish you to notice particularly in this signature
is, first, the rough and irregular edges of the lines which constitute
the letters. They will be so much magnified as to present very much the
appearance of a Virginia fence. Second, another peculiarity which ought
to be shown in the experiment--one which has a decided bearing upon the
character of the signature. If the light continues strong, you will be
able to detect it. The lines of indentation made by the two prongs of
the pen will be evident, as in the real signature. I shall be
disappointed if there do not also appear a third line, formed by the
pencil which originally traced the letters, and this line will not only
accompany, in an irregular way, crossing from side to side, the two
indentations of the down-strokes of the pen, but it will accompany
irregularly the hair-lines. I speak of this latter peculiarity with some
doubt, as the instrument I use is not the best which science now has at
its command for this purpose, though competent under perfect
conditions."
He paused, and then the forged signatures appeared upon the wall. There
was a universal burst of admiration, and then all grew still--as if
those who had given way to their feelings were suddenly stricken with
the consciousness that they were witnessing a drama in which divine
forces were playing a part. There were the ragged, jagged edges of the
letters; there was the supplementary line, traceable in every part of
them. There was man's lie--revealed, defined, convicted by God's truth!
The letters lingered, and the room seemed almost sensibly to sink in the
awful silence. Then the stillness was broken by a deep voice. What lips
it came from, no one knew, for all the borders of the room were as dark
as night. It seemed, as it echoed from side to side, to come from every
part of the house: "_Mene, mene, tekel upharsin!_" Such was the effect
of these words upon the eager and excited, yet thoroughly solemnized
crowd, that when the shutters were thrown open, they would hardly have
been surprised to see the bar covered with golden goblets and bowls of
wassail, surrounded by lordly revellers and half-nude women, with the
stricken Belshazzar at the head of the feast. Certainly Belshazzar, on
his night of doom, could hardly have presented a more pitiful front than
Robert Belcher, as all eyes were turned upon him. His face was haggard,
his chin had dropped upon his breast, and he reclined in his chair like
one on whom the plague had laid its withering hand.
There stood Prof. Timms in his triumph. His experiment had proved to be
a brilliant success, and that was all he cared for.
"You have not shown us the other signatures," said Mr. Balfour.
"False in one thing, false in all," responded the professor, shrugging
his shoulders. "I can show you the others; they would be like this; you
would throw away your time."
Mr. Cavendish did not look at the witness, but pretended to write.
"Does the counsel for the defense wish to question the witness?"
inquired Mr. Balfour, turning to him.
"No," very sharply.
"You can step down," said Mr. Balfour. As the witness passed him, he
quietly grasped his hand and thanked him. A poorly suppressed cheer ran
around the court-room as he resumed his seat. Jim Fenton, who had never
before witnessed an experiment like that which, in the professor's
hands, had been so successful, was anxious to make some personal
demonstration of his admiration. Restrained from this by his
surroundings, he leaned over and whispered: "Perfessor, you've did a big
thing, but it's the fust time I ever knowed any good to come from
peekin' through a key-hole."
"Thank you," and the professor nodded sidewise, evidently desirous of
shutting Jim off, but the latter wanted further conversation.
"Was it you that said it was mean to tickle yer parson?" inquired Jim.
"What?" said the astonished professor, looking round in spite of
himself.
"Didn't you say it was mean to tickle yer parson? It sounded more like a
furriner," said Jim.
When the professor realized the meaning that had been attached by Jim to
the "original Hebrew," he was taken with what seemed to be a nasal
hemorrhage that called for his immediate retirement from the court-room.
What was to be done next? All eyes were turned upon the counsel who were
in earnest conversation. Too evidently the defense had broken down
utterly. Mr. Cavendish was angry, and Mr. Belcher sat beside him like a
man who expected every moment to be smitten in the face, and who would
not be able to resent the blow.
"May it please the Court," said Mr. Cavendish, "it is impossible, of
course, for counsel to know what impression this testimony has made upon
the Court and the jury. Dr. Barhydt, after a lapse of years, and
dealings with thousands of patients, comes here and testifies to an
occurrence which my client's testimony makes impossible; a sneak
discovers a letter which may have been written on the third or the fifth
of May, 1860--it is very easy to make a mistake in the figure, and this
stolen letter, never legitimately delivered,--possibly never intended to
be delivered under any circumstances--is produced here in evidence; and,
to crown all, we have had the spectacular drama in a single act by a man
who has appealed to the imaginations of us all, and who, by his skill in
the management of an experiment with which none of us are familiar, has
found it easy to make a falsehood appear like the truth. The counsel for
the plaintiff has been pleased to consider the establishment or the
breaking down of the assignment as the practical question at issue. I
cannot so regard it. The question is, whether my client is to be
deprived of the fruits of long years of enterprise, economy and
industry; for it is to be remembered that, by the plaintiff's own
showing, the defendant was a rich man when he first knew him. I deny the
profits from the use of the plaintiff's patented inventions, and call
upon him to prove them. I not only call upon him to prove them, but I
defy him to prove them. It will take something more than superannuated
doctors, stolen letters and the performances of a mountebank to do
this."
This speech, delivered with a sort of frenzied bravado, had a wonderful
effect upon Mr. Belcher. He straightened in his chair, and assumed his
old air of self-assurance. He could sympathize in any game of "bluff,"
and when it came down to a square fight for money his old self came back
to him. During the little speech of Mr. Cavendish, Mr. Balfour was
writing, and when the former sat down, the latter rose, and, addressing
the Court, said: "I hold in my hand a written notice, calling upon the
defendant's counsel to produce in Court a little book in the possession
of his client entitled 'Records of profits and investments of profits
from manufactures under the Benedict patents,' and I hereby serve it
upon him."
Thus saying, he handed the letter to Mr. Cavendish, who received and
read it.
Mr. Cavendish consulted his client, and then rose and said: "May it
please the Court, there is no such book in existence."
"I happen to know," rejoined Mr. Balfour, "that there is such a book in
existence, unless it has recently been destroyed. This I stand ready to
prove by the testimony of Helen Dillingham, the sister of the
plaintiff."
"The witness can be called," said the judge.
Mrs. Dillingham looked paler than on the day before, as she voluntarily
lifted her veil, and advanced to the stand. She had dreaded the
revelation of her own treachery toward the treacherous proprietor, but
she had sat and heard him perjure himself, until her own act, which had
been performed on behalf of justice, became one of which she could
hardly be ashamed.
"Mrs. Dillingham," said Mr. Balfour, "have you been on friendly terms
with the defendant in this case?"
"I have, sir," she answered. "He has been a frequent visitor at my
house, and I have visited his family at his own."
"Was he aware that the plaintiff was your brother?"
"He was not."
"Has he, from the first, made a confidant of you?"
"In some things--yes."
"Do you know Harry Benedict--the plaintiff's son?"
"I do, sir."
"How long have you known him?"
"I made his acquaintance soon after he came to reside with you, sir, in
the city."
"Did you seek his acquaintance?"
"I did, sir."
"From what motive?"
"Mr. Belcher wished me to do it, in order to ascertain of him whether
his father were living or dead."
"You did not then know that the lad was your nephew?"
"I did not, sir.'
"Have you ever told Mr. Belcher that your brother was alive?"
"I told him that Paul Benedict was alive, at the last interview but one
that I ever had with him."
"Did he give you at this interview any reason for his great anxiety to
ascertain the facts as to Mr. Benedict's life or death?"
"He did, sir."
"Was there any special occasion for the visit you allude to?"
"I think there was, sir. He had just lost heavily in International Mail,
and evidently came in to talk about business. At any rate, he did talk
about it, as he had never done before."
"Can you give us the drift or substance of his conversation and
statements?"
"Well, sir, he assured me that he had not been shaken by his losses,
said that he kept his manufacturing business entirely separate from his
speculations, gave me a history of the manner in which my brother's
inventions had come into his hands, and, finally, showed me a little
account book, in which he had recorded his profits from manufactures
under what he called the Benedict Patents."
"Did you read this book, Mrs. Dillingham?"
"I did, sir."
"Every word?"
"Every word."
"Did you hear me serve a notice on the defendant's counsel to produce
this book in Court?"
"I did, sir."
"In that notice did I give the title of the book correctly?"
"You did, sir."
"Was this book left in your hands for a considerable length of time?"
"It was, sir, for several hours."
"Did you copy it?"
"I did, sir, every word of it."
"Are you sure that you made a correct copy?"
"I verified it, sir, item by item, again and again."
"Can you give me any proof corroborative of your statement that this
book has been in your hands?"
"I can, sir."
"What is it?"
"A letter from Mr. Belcher, asking me to deliver the book to his man
Phipps."
"Is that the letter?" inquired Mr. Balfour, passing the note into her
hands.
"It is, sir."
"May it please the Court," said Mr. Balfour, turning to the Judge, "the
copy of this account-book is in my possession, and if the defendant
persists in refusing to produce the original, I shall ask the privilege
of placing it in evidence."
During the examination of this witness, the defendant and his counsel
sat like men overwhelmed. Mr. Cavendish was angry with his client, who
did not even hear the curses which were whispered in his ear. The latter
had lost not only his money, but the woman whom he loved. The
perspiration stood in glistening beads upon his forehead. Once he put
his head down upon the table before him, while his frame was convulsed
with an uncontrollable passion. He held it there until Mr. Cavendish
touched him, when he rose and staggered to a pitcher of iced water upon
the bar, and drank a long draught. The exhibition of his pain was too
terrible to excite in the beholders any emotion lighter than pity.
The Judge looked at Mr. Cavendish who was talking angrily with his
client. After waiting for a minute or two, he said: "Unless the original
of this book be produced, the Court will be obliged to admit the copy.
It was made by one who had it in custody from the owner's hands."
"I was not aware," said Mr. Cavendish fiercely, "that a crushing
conspiracy like this against my client could be carried on in any court
of the United States, under judicial sanction."
"The counsel must permit the Court," said the Judge calmly, "to remind
him that it is so far generous toward his disappointment and discourtesy
as to refrain from punishing him for contempt, and to warn him against
any repetition of his offense."
Mr. Cavendish sneered in the face of the Judge, but held his tongue,
while Mr. Balfour presented and read the contents of the document. All
of Mr. Belcher's property at Sevenoaks, his rifle manufactory, the goods
in Talbot's hands, and sundry stocks and bonds came into the
enumeration, with the enormous foreign deposit, which constituted the
General's "anchor to windward." It was a handsome showing. Judge, jury
and spectators were startled by it, and were helped to understand,
better than they had previously done, the magnitude of the stake for
which the defendant had played his desperate game, and the stupendous
power of the temptation before which he had been led to sacrifice both
his honor and his safety.
Mr. Cavendish went over to Mr. Balfour, and they held a long
conversation, _sotto voce_. Then Mrs. Dillingham was informed that she
could step down, as she would not be wanted for cross-examination. Mr.
Belcher had so persistently lied to his counsel, and his case had become
so utterly hopeless, that even Cavendish practically gave it up.
Mr. Balfour then addressed the Court, and said that it had been agreed
between himself and Mr. Cavendish, in order to save the time of the
Court, that the case should be given to the jury by the Judge, without
presentation or argument of counsel.
The Judge occupied a few minutes in recounting the evidence, and
presenting the issue, and without leaving their seats the jury rendered
a verdict for the whole amount of damages claimed.
The bold, vain-glorious proprietor was a ruined man. The consciousness
of power had vanished. The law had grappled with him, shaken him once,
and dropped him. He had had a hint from his counsel of Mr. Balfour's
intentions, and knew that the same antagonist would wait but a moment to
pounce upon him again, and shake the life out of him. It was curious to
see how, not only in his own consciousness, but in his appearance, he
degenerated into a very vulgar sort of scoundrel. In leaving the
Court-room, he skulked by the happy group that surrounded the inventor,
not even daring to lift his eyes to Mrs. Dillingham. When he was rich
and powerful, with such a place in society as riches and power
commanded, he felt himself to be the equal of any woman; but he had been
degraded and despoiled in the presence of his idol, and knew that he was
measurelessly and hopelessly removed from her. He was glad to get away
from the witnesses of his disgrace, and the moment he passed the door,
he ran rapidly down the stairs, and emerged upon the street.