ON REMAND
When Langton Hyde was brought up before the magistrate next morning, the
court was crowded to its utmost limits; and Viner, looking round him from
his seat near the solicitors' table saw that most of the people
interested in the case were present. Mr. Carless was whispering with Mr.
Pawle; Lord Ellingham had a seat close by; in the front of the public
gallery Miss Penkridge, grim and alert, was in charge of the timid and
shrinking sisters of the unfortunate prisoner. There, too, were Mr.
Armitstead and Mr. Isidore Rosenbaum, and Mr. Perkwite, all evidently
very much alive to certain possibilities. But Viner looked in vain for
either Methley or Woodlesford or their mysterious client; they were
certainly not present when Hyde was put into the dock, and Viner began to
wonder if the events of the previous day had warned Mr. Cave and those
behind him to avoid publicity.
Instructed by Viner, who was determined to spare neither effort nor
money to clear his old schoolmate, Felpham had engaged the services
of one of the most brilliant criminal barristers of the day, Mr.
Millington-Bywater, on behalf of his client; and he and Viner had sat up
half the night with him, instructing him in the various mysteries and
ramifications of the case. A big, heavy-faced, shrewd-eyed man, Mr.
Millington-Bywater made no sign, and to all outward appearance showed no
very great interest while the counsel who now appeared on behalf of the
police, completed his case against the prisoner.
The only new evidence produced by the prosecution was that of the
greengrocer on whose premises Hyde had admitted that he passed most of
the night of the murder, and in whose shed the missing valuables had been
found. The greengrocer's evidence as to his discovery was given in a
plain and straightforward fashion--he was evidently a man who would just
tell what he actually saw, and brought neither fancy nor imagination to
bear on his observation. But when the prosecution had done with him, Mr.
Millington-Bywater rose and quietly asked the police to produce the
watch, chain and ring which the greengrocer had found, in their original
wrappings. He held up the wrapping-papers to the witness and asked him if
he could swear that this was what he had found the valuables in and had
given to the police. The greengrocer was positive as to this; he was
positive, too, that the other wrappings which Felpham had carefully
preserved were those which had been on the outside of the parcel and had
been thrown aside by himself on its discovery and afterwards picked up by
Viner. Mr. Millington-Bywater handed all these papers up to the
magistrate, directing his attention to the strong odour of drugs or
chemicals which still pervaded them, and to the address of the
manufacturing chemists which appeared on the outer wrapping. The
magistrate seemed somewhat mystified.
"What is the object of this?" he asked, glancing at the defending
counsel. "It is admitted that these are the wrappings in which the watch,
and chain and ring were found in the witness's shed, but"--he paused,
with another inquiring look--"you propose to--what?" he asked.
"I propose, Your Worship, to prove that these things were never put there
by the prisoner at all!" answered Mr. Millington-Bywater, promptly and
with an assurance which was not lost on the spectators. "I intend to show
that they were purposely placed in that outhouse by the real murderer of
John Ashton after the statement made by the prisoner at the inquest
became public--placed there, of course, to divert any possible suspicion
of himself.
"And now," he continued, after the greengrocer had left the box and the
prosecuting counsel had intimated that he had no more evidence to bring
forward at present, "now I will outline the defence which I shall set up
on behalf of my client. I intend to prove that John Ashton was murdered
by some man not yet discovered, who killed him in order to gain
possession of certain papers which he carried on him--papers of extreme
importance, as will be shown. We know where certain of those papers are,
and we hope before very long to know where the rest are, and also
where a certain very valuable diamond is, which the murdered man had
on him at the time of his death. I shall, indeed, prove that the
prisoner--certainly through his own foolishness--is wrongly accused. It
will be within your worship's recollection that when the prisoner was
first before you, he very unwisely refused to give his name and address
or any information--he subsequently repented of that and made a
statement, not only to the police but before the coroner. Now, I propose
to put him into that box so that he may give evidence, and I shall then
call certain witnesses who will offer evidence which will go to prove
that what I say as regards the murder of Ashton is more than
probable--namely, that he was murdered for the sake of the documents he
had on him, and that the spoiling of his money and valuables was a mere
piece of bluff, intended to mislead. Let the prisoner go into the box!"
There was a continued deep silence in court while Hyde, under
examination, repeated the story which he had told to Viner and Drillford
and before the coroner and his jury. It was a plain, consecutive story,
in which he set forth the circumstances preceding the evening of the
murder and confessed his picking up of the ring which lay on the pavement
by Ashton's body. He kept his eyes steadily fixed on Mr.
Millington-Bywater under this examination, never removing them from him
save when the magistrate interposed with an occasional remark or
question. But at one point a slight commotion in court caused him to look
among the spectators, and Viner, following the direction of his eyes, saw
him start, and at the same instant saw what it was that he started at.
Methley, followed by the claimant, was quietly pushing a way through the
throng between the door and the solicitor's table.
Viner leaned closer to Mr. Pawle.
"Do you see?" he whispered. "Hyde evidently recognizes one of those two!
Now--which?"
Mr. Pawle glanced at the prisoner. Hyde's face, hitherto pale, had
flushed a little, and his eyes had grown bright; he looked as if he had
suddenly seen a friend's face in a hostile crowd. But Mr.
Millington-Bywater, who had been bending over his papers, suddenly looked
up with another question, and Hyde again turned his attention to him.
"All that you really know of this matter," asked Mr. Millington-Bywater,
"is that you chanced to turn up Lonsdale Passage, saw a man lying on the
pavement and a ring close by, and that, being literally starving and
desperate, you snatched up that ring and ran away as fast as you could?"
"Yes--that is all," asserted Hyde. "Except that I had met a man, as I
have already told you, at the end of the passage by which I entered."
"You did not even know whether this man lying on the pavement was
alive or dead?"
"I thought he might be drunk," replied Hyde. "But after I had snatched up
the ring I never thought at all until I had run some distance. I was
afraid of being followed."
"Now why were you afraid of being followed?"
"I was famishing!" answered Hyde. "I knew I could get something, some
money, on that ring, in the morning, and I wanted to stick to it. I was
afraid that the man whom I met as I ran out of the passage, whom I now
know to have been Mr. Viner, might follow me and make me give up the
ring. And the ring meant food."
Mr. Millington-Bywater let this answer sink into the prevalent atmosphere
and suddenly turned to another matter. The knife which had been found in
Hyde's possession was lying with certain other exhibits on the
solicitor's table, and Mr. Millington-Bywater pointed to it.
"Now about that knife," he said. "It is yours? Very well--how long have
you had it?"
"Three or four years," replied Hyde, promptly. "I bought it when I was
touring in the United States, at a town called Guthrie, in Oklahoma.
And," he added suddenly and with a triumphant smile as of a man who is
unexpectedly able to clinch an argument, "there is a gentleman there who
was with me when I bought it--Mr. Nugent Starr!"
From the magistrate on his bench to the policeman at the door every
person in court turned to look at the man to whom the prisoner pointed an
out-stretched finger. And Mr. Pawle let out an irrepressible exclamation.
"Good God!" he said. "The claimant fellow!"
But Viner said nothing. He was staring, as everybody else was, at the man
who sat by Methley. He, suddenly aware that Hyde had pointed to him, was
obviously greatly taken aback and embarrassed--he looked sharply at the
prisoner, knitted his brows, shook his head, and turning to Methley
muttered something which no one else caught. Mr. Millington-Bywater
looked at him and turned to his client.
"You say there is a gentleman here--that gentleman!--who was with you
when you bought that knife?" he asked. "A friend of yours, then?"
"Well--we were playing in the same company," asserted Hyde. "Mr.
Moreby-Bannister's company. He was heavy lead--I was juvenile. He knows
me well enough. He was with me when I bought that knife in a hardware
store in Guthrie."
The magistrate's eye was on the man who sat by Methley, and there was a
certain amount of irritation in it. And suddenly Methley whispered
something to his companion and the man shyly but with a noticeable
composure stood up.
"I beg Your Worship's pardon," he said, quietly, with a polite bow to the
bench, "but really, the witness is under a mistaken impression! I don't
know him, and I have never been in the town he mentions--in fact, I have
never been in the United States. I am very sorry, but, really, there is
some strange mistake--I--the witness is an absolute stranger to me!"
The attention of all present was transferred to Hyde. And Hyde flushed,
leaned forward over the ledge of the witness-box and gave the claimant a
long, steady stare.
"No mistake at all!" he suddenly exclaimed in a firm voice. "That's Mr.
Nugent Starr! I played with him for over twelve months."
While this had been going on, Felpham on one side, and Carless on the
other, had been whispering to Mr. Millington-Bywater, who listened to
both with growing interest, and began to nod to each with increasing
intelligence--and then, suddenly, the prosecuting counsel played
unexpectedly and directly into his hand.
"If Your Worship pleases," said the prosecuting counsel, "I should
like to have the prisoner's assertion categorically denied--it may be
of importance. Perhaps this gentleman will go into the box and deny
it on oath."
Mr. Millington-Bywater sat down as quickly as if a heavy hand had forced
him into his seat, and Viner saw a swift look of gratification cross his
features. Close by, Mr. Pawle chuckled with joy.
"By the Lord Harry!" he whispered, "the very thing we wanted! No
need to wait for the adjourned coroner's inquest, Viner--the
thing'll come out now!"
Viner did not understand. He saw Hyde turned out of the box; he saw the
claimant, after an exchange of remarks with Methley, step into it; he
heard him repeat on oath the denial he had just uttered, after stating
that his name was Cave, and that he lived at the Belmead Hotel, Lancaster
Gate; and he saw Mr. Millington-Bywater, after exchanging a few questions
and answers in whispers with Hyde over the ledge of the dock, turn to the
witness as he was about to step down.
"A moment, sir," he said. "I want to ask you a few questions, with the
permission of His Worship, who will soon see that they are very
pertinent. So," he went on, "you reside at the Belmead Hotel, in
Lancaster Gate, and your name is Edward Cave?"
"At present," answered the witness, stiffly.
"Do you mean that your name is Edward Cave--at present?"
"My name is Edward Cave, and at present I live--as I have stated,"
replied the witness with dignity.
"You have just stated, on oath, that you are not Nugent Starr, have never
been so called, don't know the prisoner, never met him in America, have
never set foot in America! Now, then--mind, you're on your oath!--is
Edward Cave your real or full name?"
"Well, strictly speaking," answered the witness, after some hesitation,
"no, it is not. My full name is Cave-Gray--my family name; but for the
present--"
"For the present you wish to be called Mr. Cave. Now, sir, are you not
the person who claims to be the rightful Earl of Ellingham?"
A murmur of excited interest ran round the court, and everybody
recognized that a new stage of the case had been entered upon. Every eye,
especially the observant eyes on the bench, were fixed on the witness,
who now looked considerably ruffled. He glanced at Methley--but Methley
sat with averted look and made no sign; he looked at the magistrate; the
magistrate, it was plain, expected the question to be answered. And the
answer came, almost sullenly.
"Yes, I am!"
"That is to say, you are really--or you claim to be really--the Lord
Marketstoke who disappeared from England some thirty-five years ago, and
you have now returned, though you are legally presumed to be dead, to
assert your rights to titles and estates? You absolutely claim to be the
ninth Earl of Ellingham?"
"Yes!"
"Where have you been during the last thirty-five years?"
"In Australia."
"What part?"
"Chiefly in Melbourne. But I was for four or five years up-country."
"What name did you go under there?"
Mr. Pawle, Mr. Carless and the rest of the spectators who were in these
secrets regarded the witness with keen attention when this question was
put to him. But his answer came promptly.
"At first, under the name of Wickham. Later under the one I now
use--Cave."
"Did you marry out there?"
"Never!"
"And so, of course, you never had a daughter?"
"I have never been married and have never had daughter or son!"
Mr. Millington-Bywater turned to Mr. Carless, at his left elbow, and
exchanged two or three whispered remarks with him. At last he looked
round again at the witness.
"Yesterday," he said, "in your character of claimant to the Ellingham
title and estates you showed to Messrs. Carless & Driver, of Lincoln's
Inn Fields, and to the present holder of the title, certain documents,
letters, papers, which would go some way toward establishing your claim
to be what you profess to be. Now, I will say at once that we believe
these papers to have been stolen from the body of John Ashton when he was
murdered. And I will ask you a direct question, on your oath! Have those
papers always been in your possession since you left England thirty-five
years ago?"
The witness drew himself up and looked steadily at his questioner.
"No!" he answered firmly. "They were stolen from me almost as soon as I
arrived in Australia. I have only just regained possession of them."