MR. HAZELDINE'S LETTER.
The following is a copy of Mr. Hazeldine's letter to his son:
Oct. 5, 18--,
"My Dear Edward,
"When these lines reach you, he who writes them will be no longer
among the living. The end of my days is at hand. I am about to go
hence, and be no more seen.
"Three months ago I consulted two eminent London specialists with
reference to the state of my health. For some time I had had reason to
believe that my heart was seriously affected, but I had shrank from
turning doubt into certainty. At length, however, I did so, and the
verdict proved to be little more than a confirmation of my own secret
fears. Both the men I consulted gave me to understand that, with great
care, I might live for some time to come, but that there was a
possibility of my being taken off at any moment. Rest and perfect
quiet were essential to my case, and a complete release from the cares
and worries of business--all of which you will say might have been
mine had I so willed it--and indeed it is quite true that I might have
retired to some restful spot, and there, 'far from the madding crowd,'
have eked out the poor remainder of my days, but for certain
circumstances which rendered such a step an impossibility. What those
circumstances were, I will now tell you.
"Edward, from youth upward I have been a gambler--a secret
gambler--but so well have I kept the knowledge to myself that not even
your mother has known of it, whatever she may have suspected. When I
was a schoolboy I used to gamble for halfpence. When I grew older I
was in the habit of venturing my half-crowns, and afterwards my
sovereigns, on this race or the other. When I was a young man, and
supposed to be taking my autumn holidays in Scotland or at the
seaside, I generally contrived to find my way to Doncaster for the St.
Leger; and over and over again I have gone through the whole gamut of
a gambler's hopes, fears, exultations, and despair.
"Of late years, however, I have given up having anything to do with
the Turf, and have confined myself to transactions on the Stock
Exchange. Three years ago I was worth twenty thousand pounds: to-day I
am a ruined man. I wanted to turn my twenty thousand into fifty, and
it seemed so easy to do it that I had not the courage to withhold my
hand. Even now I have faith to believe that I could retrieve my
fortunes were time given me to do so, but time is the one thing I can
no longer call my own. The anxieties of the last few months have told
terribly upon me, and I feel that the end may come at any moment.
Besides which, Mr. Avison will be at home in the course of a few days.
"You may, perhaps, ask in what way the return of Mr. Avison can affect
me, unless it serve to transfer some of the cares of business from my
shoulders to his, and, in so far, prove a source of relief to me. But,
Edward, I dare not meet him! When I tell you this, you will know what
I mean.
"Yes, it is even so. Things that I have been able to cover up during
his absence can be hidden no longer when he returns. I cannot, I dare
not face that which would inevitably follow. What a terribly bitter
confession is this to make to you, my eldest son!
"What then, is to be done? How escape a disgrace which seems
inevitable? There is only one mode of escaping from it--by
suicide--and that is the mode I have determined to adopt. It is my
last and only resource.
"You are aware that, many years ago, I insured my life for twelve
thousand pounds. This sum, together with a thousand pounds standing to
my credit at the Bank (for I have always contrived to maintain a
balance there in order to avoid suspicion), will be nearly all that
your mother and sister will have to depend upon after I am gone;
should it, however, be discovered that I have committed suicide, the
policy will be forfeited and they will be left little better off than
paupers. For this reason, therefore, if for no other, my death must
not seem to be the act of my own hand.
"But there is another reason, almost as imperative, why the world must
not be allowed to believe that I have put an end to my existence. It
must never become known that I dare not face Mr. Avison, and my
employer himself must never learn how his most trusted servant has
betrayed the confidence reposed in him. The shame, disgrace, and
misery in which such knowledge would involve those I leave behind me
must be avoided at every risk. There is only one way by which such
consequences can be averted, and that is by making my death seem to
have resulted, not from my own act, but from the act of another. In
brief, the world must be led to believe, not that I have committed
suicide, but that I have been murdered!
"You will naturally ask how is such an end to be accomplished? for in
such a case nothing must be left to chance--every step in the affair,
every contingency that might arise out of it, must be thought of and
arranged for beforehand. I will tell you what I purpose doing--what,
in fact, will actually have been done, to secure the object I have in
view, before to-morrow's sunrise.
"In the first place, I have paid off to the uttermost farthing all my
losses on the Stock Exchange; and as I have always speculated under an
assumed name, there is no risk of its ever becoming known that the
respected manager of the Ashdown Bank was the desperate gambler he has
been in reality.
"And now for the details of my final arrangements. To-night--for the
final act of the tragedy can no longer be delayed, seeing that Mr.
Avison is already as far as Paris on his road home--to-night I shall
work at the office till after everyone else has gone. I shall put
Sweet off his guard. I shall arrange matters so that the door of the
bullion safe in the strong room shall be found open, and the safe, to
all appearance, rifled of its contents. The booty supposed to have
been thus appropriated will amount to something over four thousand
pounds, that being the sum in which I am indebted to the Bank. My
books will show that latterly the Bank has been accumulating funds in
notes and gold to a very considerable amount in order to provide for
certain contingencies which it would have to meet before long in the
ordinary course of business. As for my worthless self--I shall be
found dead on the hearthrug of my office, stabbed to the heart.
"Such is an outline of the programme which will have been carried into
effect before these lines meet your eye. In carrying out this
desperate resolve I am merely anticipating the end of a life which no
power on earth could prolong for many months, and which might go out
like the snuff of a candle at any moment. The proceeds of my policy of
insurance will be saved to my family, my fair fame will remain
untainted, the world will respect my memory as that of a man just and
honorable in all his dealings, while those I leave behind me will have
no cause to blush for the name they bear.
"Such being the case, why have I chosen to make you my confidant in
this matter? Why have I imposed upon you the burthen of such a
confession? Why have I not let you live on in ignorance, as your
brother will live on in his? I will tell you why.
"Notwithstanding all the precautions I shall take to obviate so
untoward a result, it is just possible that my death may be laid at
the door of some innocent person. Many a guiltless man has been done
to death by circumstantial evidence, and such a thing might easily
happen again. I charge you, therefore, as my eldest son, that in the
event of anyone being accused of my death, you at once make public
such facts as will suffice to free him from so heinous a charge.
Better, a thousand times better, that the whole truth should be told,
than that the accusation of being a murderer should cling to anyone
for an hour! I lay upon you this most solemn duty, being perfectly
satisfied that I could entrust it into no better hands. My fervent
hope, however, is that no such contingency may arise. Should it do so,
your duty will lie plainly before you, and I feel satisfied that you
will not shrink from doing it.
"And now, what shall I say more? I dare not write one-twentieth part
of that which I feel, for fear I should break down; and I need all the
strength I can summon to my aid to go through the ordeal before me.
You will continue to be what you have always been--a good son and a
good brother. You will treat your father's memory in your thoughts as
leniently as you can. I have been weak, foolish--criminal, even; but
had fortune smiled on my schemes, all this would have remained
unknown, even to you. I should have lived and died prosperous and
respected, and the local newspaper, in its obituary notice, would have
attributed to me half the virtues under the sun. But should the world
ever come to know that which I have here revealed to you, then the
colors it would paint me in would be black indeed.
"I can write no more.
"Farewell, a long farewell.
"Your unhappy father,
"James Hazeldine."
Edward Hazeldine was still sitting with his father's open letter in
his hand, in a maze of grief, shame, and perplexity, when there came a
knock at his office door. He put the letter carefully out of sight,
and then said, "Come in." A servant entered.
"If you please, sir, the Coroner has sent for you, and you are wanted
immediately."
The Coroner and jury had met in a room of the "White Lion Hotel," a
house not more than two or three hundred yards from the Bank. The
twelve good men and true were either tradesmen or private householders
of the town, all of whom had known, and most of them had done business
with, the late Mr. Hazeldine.
After viewing the body, which still lay in the room where it had been
found, the jury went back to the hotel. The proceedings were watched
by Mr. Prestwich, solicitor, retained by Mr. Edward Hazeldine, on
behalf of the relatives of the deceased. Mr. Mace and three of his men
were in attendance.
The first witness called was Clement Hazeldine, who identified the
body of the deceased as that of his father.
The next witness was John Brancker, who deposed to deceased having
left the Bank during the forenoon of the previous day, with the
intention of going to London to change notes to the amount of about
twelve hundred pounds for gold. When he left the Bank he took with him
the black bag which was always made use of on such occasions. It was
not often, witness went on to say, that Mr. Hazeldine himself went to
London to obtain change; that was a duty which more frequently
devolved upon him, witness; still, it sometimes happened that deceased
had other business to transact in town, in which case he would bring
back the gold himself.
David Measom, the railway booking-clerk, deposed to having sold
deceased a first-class return ticket to London and back by the
ten-thirty train on the previous day.
Obed Sweet, night-watchman, deposed to the events as detailed in a
previous chapter:--To seeing Mr. Hazeldine enter the Bank about
half-past eight P.M., carrying his black bag; to hearing, as he
believed, the front door shut about half-past ten, and to finding, to
his surprise when he went upstairs, that deceased was still at work;
to waiting until half-past eleven before going upstairs again, and to
finding the office at that time in darkness, and Mr. Hazeldine, to all
appearance, gone. Witness then went on to state that the noise he had
heard about half-past ten had since been accounted for, by the fact of
Mr. Brancker having come back to the Bank to fetch his umbrella.
In reply to a question by the Coroner, it was stated that both
deceased and Mr. Brancker had pass-keys, by means of which they could
let themselves into the Bank after ordinary business hours without
troubling Sweet, unless the front door had been finally bolted for the
night.
"Does anyone know whether the pass-key belonging to deceased has been
found?" asked the Coroner of Mr. Mace.
"It was found in one of his pockets," was the answer.
The next witness was Amanda Sweet, the nightwatchman's wife, who
deposed to finding the door of Mr. Hazeldine's room locked and the key
outside, as it was said to have been left by last witness, when she
went at half-past seven A.M. to sweep out and dust the office as
usual. The first thing she did was to draw up the blinds, after which,
on turning round, she saw the body of deceased lying right across the
hearthrug with a foreign-looking knife a little distance away from it.
Being asked what she did next, she replied that she screamed and
fainted right away.
Peggy Lown, charwoman, deposed to being sent by Obed Sweet in search
of a constable; to encountering Mr. Judd a short distance from the
Bank, and telling him what had happened, and to finding a constable a
few minutes afterwards.
Ephraim Judd deposed that, in consequence of what last witness told
him, he hurried to the Bank, and there found Sweet and his wife by the
dead body of Mr. Hazeldine.
The evidence of Constable Jeremy was to a similar effect.
Chief Constable Mace deposed that in consequence of a message sent him
by the last witness, he hurried to the Bank, calling on Dr. Barton by
the way, and taking that gentleman with him. He then went on to
describe the finding of the body, and produced the knife which last
witness had picked up and given him. He told how he had found the door
of the strong room open, as was also the door of the bullion-safe
inside; and that, as Mr. Brancker would tell them, there was little
doubt the safe had been robbed, and notes and hard cash to a very
large amount made away with. He then went on to describe how he had
made a thorough examination of the premises, but without finding any
clue to the mode by which the perpetrator of the crime had obtained
access to the Bank, and had afterwards been able to get clear away
with his booty, unseen and unheard by anyone.
There was, however, one circumstance, Mr. Mace remarked, to which it
would be necessary to call the attention of the jury. On the floor of
the office usually occupied by Mr. Brancker and Mr. Judd were several
stains, apparently quite recent, which had all the appearance of
blood-stains, Dr. Barton, who had examined them at his request, would
no doubt be prepared to give the jury his opinion about them. In
addition, the outside of one of the drawers--Mr. Brancker's drawer, he
believed it to be--was smeared in a similar way, as were also some
portion of its contents. He believed Mr. Brancker would tell them that
he was utterly at a loss to account for the existence of the marks in
question. Before proceeding further in the case he would respectfully
suggest that the jury should be requested to examine the stains for
themselves.
This course was agreed to; but it was first deemed advisable to take
the evidence of Dr. Barton.