CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.
Let us now return to Mr. Whittingham, whom we left in serious and
unfeigned tribulation at the moment when his young master was taken into
custody upon the charge of passing a forged note.
The Bow Street runner whom the officer had left behind to search the
house, first possessed himself of the two letters which were lying upon
the table in Markham's library, and which were addressed respectively to
Mrs. Arlington and Mr. Monroe. The functionary then commenced a strict
investigation of the entire premises; and, at the end, appeared
marvellously surprised that he had not found a complete apparatus for
printing forged notes, together with a quantity of the false articles
themselves. This search, nevertheless, occupied three hours; and, when
it was over, he took his departure, quite sulky because he had nothing
to offer as evidence save the two sealed letters, which might be
valuable in that point of view, or might not.
The moment this unwelcome guest had quitted the house, the butler,
notwithstanding the lateness of the hour--for it was now dusk--ordered
the market cart to be got ready; and, with the least possible delay, he
proceeded into town.
Upon his arrival in Bow Street, he found the police-office closed: but
upon enquiry he learnt that the investigation of Richard Markham's case
had been postponed until the following morning at eleven o'clock, the
prisoner having declared that he could produce a witness who would
satisfactorily show his (the prisoner's) entire innocence in the
transaction. In the meantime, he had been removed to Clerkenwell Prison.
Without asking another question, Whittingham mounted his cart once more,
and drove away at a rattling pace to Clerkenwell Prison. There he began
to thunder like a madman at the knocker of the governor's private
entrance, and could hardly believe his senses when a servant-girl
informed him that it was past the hours to see the prisoners.
Whittingham would have remonstrated; but the girl slammed the door in
his face. He accordingly had no alternative save to drive direct home
again.
The very next morning at nine o'clock Mr. Whittingham entered the
_Servants' Arms_ Tavern; and with but little of his usual circumlocution
and verbosity, enquired the address of Mr. Mac Chizzle, the lawyer, who
had been one of the party at that house the evening but one before.
"Here is his card," said the landlord. "He uses my house reglar, and is
a out-and-out practitioner."
Whittingham did not wait to hear any further eulogium upon the attorney.
It had struck him that his young master might require a "professional
adviser:" and having the supreme felicity of being totally unacquainted
with the entire fraternity, he had felt himself somewhat puzzled how to
supply the _desideratum_. In this dilemma, he had suddenly bethought
himself of Mac Chizzle; and, without waiting to ponder upon the
propriety of the step he was taking, he rushed off in the manner
described to procure that individual's address.
"Well, what do you want?" cried the lawyer, who was astonished at the
unceremonious manner in which Whittingham suddenly rushed into his
office: "what do you want?"
"Law," was the laconic answer.
"Well, you can have plenty of that here," said Mr. Mac Chizzle. "But--I
think you are the gentleman with whom I had the pleasure of passing a
pleasant evening at the _Servants' Arms_, a day or two ago."
"The indentical same," returned Whittingham, flinging his hat upon the
floor and himself into a chair.
"Take time to breathe, sir," said the lawyer. "If you're come for advice
you couldn't have selected a better shop; but I must tell you
before-hand that mine is quite a ready money business."
"Very good, sir. I'll tell you my story first and foremost; and you can
then explain the most legible means of preceeding. I want law and
justice."
"_Law_ you can have in welcome; but whether you will obtain _justice_ is
another consideration."
"I'm bewildered in a labyrinth of mazes, sir," said the butler. "I
always opiniated that law and justice was the same thing."
"Quite the reverse, I can assure you. Law is a human invention: justice
is a divine inspiration. What is law to-day, is not law to-morrow; and
yet everything is still denominated _justice_. A creditor asks for
justice when he appeals to a tribunal against his debtor; and how is
that justice awarded? Why--if a man can't pay five pounds, the law
immediately makes his debt ten pounds; and if he can't live out of
doors, the law immediately shuts him up in prison by way of helping him
out of his difficulties. That is law, sir; but it is not justice."
"Right, sir--very right."
"_Law_, you see, sir," continued Mac Chizzle, who was particularly fond
of hearing himself talk,--"_law_ is omnipotent, and beats _justice_ to
such an extreme, that justice would be justified in bringing an action
of assault and battery against law. Law even makes religion, sir; and
gives the attributes of the Deity; for no one dares assert that God
possesses a quality or a characteristic, unless in conformity with the
law. And as these laws are always changing, so of course does the nature
of the deity, as established by the law, vary too; so that men may be
said to go to heaven or to another place by the turnpike-roads laid down
by the law."
"I like your reasonable powers amazingly," said the butler, somewhat
impatiently; "and I will now proceed to unfold the momentary object of
my visit."
"Give yourself breathing time, my dear sir. As I was observing, _Law_ is
more powerful than even _Justice_ and _Religion_; and I could now show
that it exercises the same predominating influence over _Morality_ also.
For instance, Law, and not Conscience, defines virtues and vices. If I
murder you, I commit a crime; but the executioner who puts me to death
for the action, does _not_ commit a crime. Neither does the soldier who
kills his fellow-creature in battle. Thus, murder is only a crime when
it is not legalised by human statutes,--or, in plain terms, when it is
not according to law."
"I comprehend, sir," said Whittingham; and, seeing that Mr. Mac Chizzle
now paused at length, he narrated the particulars of his master's arrest
upon an accusation of passing a forged note for five hundred pounds.
"This is an ugly case, Mr. Whittingham."
"You must go down to him at Bow-Street: his case comes on at eleven
o'clock."
"Well, there is plenty of time: it is only half-past nine o'clock. I
think we had better instruct counsel."
"Construct counsel!" ejaculated Whittingham; "I want you to get him
liberated at once."
"Ah! I dare say you do," said the lawyer, coolly. "That is often more
easily said than done. From what you have told me I should not wonder if
your master was committed for trial."
"But he is innocent, sir--he is innocent--as the young lamb in the
meadows which is unborn!" cried Whittingham. "Master Richard would no
more pass a fictious note than I should endeavour to pass a race-horse
if I was mounted on a donkey."
Mr. Mac Chizzle smiled, and summoned his clerk by the euphonious name of
"Simcox." Mr. Simcox was somewhat slow in making his appearance; and
when he did, a very comical one it was--for his hair was red, his eyes
were green, his countenance was studded with freckles, and his
eye-lashes were white.
"Simcox," said Mr. Mac Chizzle, "I am going out for a few hours. If the
gentleman calls about the thousand pound bill, tell him that I can get
it discounted for him, for fifty pounds in money and eight hundred in
wine--which allows a hundred and fifty for discount and _my_ commission.
If the lady calls whose husband has run away from her, tell her that
I've sent to Paris to make enquiries after him, and that if she'll leave
another fifty pounds, I'll send to Vienna. By-the-bye, that bothering
fellow Smith is certain to call: tell him I'm gone into the country, and
shall be away for a fortnight. If Jenkins calls, tell him I shall be
home at five and he must wait, as I want to see him."
"Very well, sir," said Simcox. "And if the gentleman calls about the
loan."
"Why, that I shall see a party about it this evening. The first party
declines; but I have another party in view."
Somehow or another, men of business have always got a particular "party"
in view to accomplish a particular purpose, and they are always being
disappointed by their "parties"--- whom, by-the-bye, they never
condescended to name. To be "deceived by a party;" or "having a party to
meet;" or "being engaged so long with a particular party," are excuses
which will last as long as business itself shall exist, and will
continue to be received as apologies as long as any apologies are
received at all. They will wear out every other lie.
Whittingham was too much occupied by the affairs of his master, to pay
any attention to the orders which the solicitor gave his clerk; and he
was considerably relieved when he found himself by the side of his
professional adviser, rolling along the streets in a cabriolet.
At length the lawyer and the faithful domestic were set down at the
Police-Office in Bow Street; and in a few moments they were admitted, in
the presence of a policeman, to an interview with Markham in one of the
cells attached to the establishment.
Richard's countenance was pale and care-worn: his hair was dishevelled;
and his attire seemed put on slovenly. But these circumstances scarcely
attracted the eyes of Whittingham:--a more appalling and monstrous
spectacle engrossed all the attention of that faithful old dependant;
and this was the manacle which confined his reverend master's hands
together.
Whittingham wept.
"Oh! Master Richard," he exclaimed in a voice broken by sobs, "what an
unforeseen and perfidious adventure is this! You surely never could--no,
I know you didn't!"
"Do not grieve yourself, my faithful friend," said Richard, deeply
affected: "my innocence will soon be proved. I have sent for Mr.
Chichester, who will be here presently: and he can shew in one moment
how I became possessed of the two notes."
"Two notes!" cried Whittingham.
"Yes--I had another of fifty pounds' value in my purse, which I also
received from Chichester, and which has turned out to be a spurious one.
Doubtless he has been deceived himself----"
"Oh! that ere Winchester, or Kidderminster--or whatever his name may
be," interrupted the butler, a strange misgiving oppressing his mind:
"I'm afeard he won't do the thing that's right. But here is a profound
adwiser, Master Richard, that I've brought with me; and he'll see law
done, he says--and I believe him too."
Markham and Mac Chizzle then entered into conversation together: but
scarcely had the unfortunate young man commenced his account of the
peculiar circumstances in which he was involved, when the jailor entered
to conduct him into the presence of the magistrate.
Markham was placed in the felon's dock; and Mr. Mac Chizzle intimated to
the sitting magistrate, in a simpering tone, that he appeared for the
prisoner.
Now we must inform our readers that Mac Chizzle was one of those low
pettifoggers, who, without being absolutely the black sheep of the
profession, act upon the principle "that all are fish that come to their
net," and practise indiscriminately in the civil and the criminal
courts--conduct a man's insolvency, or defend him before the
magistrate--discount bills and issue no end of writs--act for loan
societies and tally shops--in a word, undertake anything that happens to
fall in their way, so long as it brings grist to the mill.
Mr. Mac Chizzle was not, therefore, what is termed "a respectable
solicitor;" and the magistrate's countenance assumed an appearance of
austerity--for he had previously been possessed in Markham's
favour--when that individual announced that he appeared for the
prisoner. Thus poor Whittingham, in his anxiety to do his beloved master
a great deal of good, actually prejudiced his case materially at its
outset.
Though unhappy and care-worn, Richard was not downcast. Conscious
innocence supported him. Accordingly when he beheld Mr. Chichester enter
the witness-box, he bowed to him in a friendly and even grateful manner;
but, to his ineffable surprise, that very fashionable gentleman affected
not to notice the salutation.
It is not necessary to enter into details. The nature of the evidence
against Markham was that he had called at his guardian's banker's the
day but one previously, to receive a sum of money; that he requested the
cashier to change a five hundred pound Bank of England note; that,
although an unusual proceeding, the demand was complied with; that the
prisoner wrote his name at the back of the note, and that in the course
of the ensuing morning it was discovered that the said note was a
forgery. The prisoner was arrested; and upon his person was found a
second note, of fifty pounds' value, which was also a forgery. Two
letters were also produced--one to Mrs. Arlington, and another to Mr.
Monroe, which not only proved that the prisoner had intended to leave
the country with strange abruptness, but the contents of which actually
appeared to point at the crime now alleged against him, as the motive
of his flight.
Markham was certainly astounded when he heard the stress laid upon those
letters by the solicitor for the prosecution, and the manner in which
their real meaning was made to tell against him.
The Magistrate called upon him for his defence; and Markham, forgetful
that Mac Chizzle was there to represent him, addressed himself in an
earnest tone to Mr. Chichester, exclaiming, "You can now set me right in
the eyes of the magistrate, and in the opinion of even the prosecuting
counsel, who seems so anxious to distort every circumstance to my
disadvantage."
"I really am not aware," said Mr. Chichester, caressing his chin in a
very _nonchalant_ manner, "that I can throw any light upon this
subject."
"All I require is the truth," ejaculated Richard, surprised at the tone
and manner of his late friend. "Did you not give me that note for five
hundred pounds to change for you? and did I not receive the second note
from you in exchange for fifty sovereigns?"
Mr. Chichester replied in an indignant negative.
The magistrate shook his head: the prosecuting solicitor took snuff
significantly;--Mac Chizzle made a memorandum;--and Whittingham
murmured, "Ah! that mitigated villain Axminster."
"What do I hear!" exclaimed Richard: "Mr. Chichester your memory must
fail you sadly. I suppose you recollect the occasion upon which Mr.
Talbot gave you the five hundred pound note?"
"Mr. Talbot never gave me any note at all," answered Chichester, in a
measured and determined manner.
"It is false--false as hell!" cried Markham, more enraged than alarmed;
and he forthwith detailed to the magistrate the manner in which he had
been induced to change the one note, and had become possessed of the
other.
"This is a very lame story, indeed," said the magistrate; "and you must
try and see if you can get a jury to believe it. You stand committed."
Before Richard could make any reply, he was lugged out of the dock by
the jailor; the next case was called on; and he was hurried back to his
cell, whither Mac Chizzle and the butler were permitted to follow him.