AFTER THE TRIAL.
Among those who had crowded round John Brancker in order to
congratulate him the moment he was a free man was neither Mr. Edward
Hazeldine nor Mr. Avison, and their absence caused him a little pang
of disappointment. Edward had all along not only expressed his
unflinching belief in John's innocence, but at his own cost had
engaged Mr. Burgees to defend him, so that his absence on the day of
the trial seemed doubly strange. John had seen Mr. Avison in court,
and had looked for a word of congratulation from him when all was
over, but he looked in vain. Besides, it was now Saturday evening, and
he was anxious to know whether Mr. Avison would expect him to be in
his place at the Bank at nine o'clock on the following Monday morning,
just as if nothing had occurred to break the continuity of his service
there. He was not, however, destined to be kept long in doubt on the
latter point. Soon after he got home a note from Mr. Avison reached
him, in which he was requested to see that gentleman in his private
room at the Bank at half-past ten on Monday forenoon.
Next day was Sunday, and John stayed quietly indoors. It seemed to him
the most blessed Sabbath he had ever spent. To feel that the prison
walls no longer shut him in; that he was free to come and go even as
other men were; to know that the foul charge which had hung over him
for so long a time was at length dispelled, and that he was back once
more in his dear little home with those he loved best on earth--all
made up a sum of happiness which was almost oppressive in its
fullness. One needs to go through some experience analogous to that of
John Brancker before one learns to appraise at their real value those
common blessings of everyday life which to most of us seem so much a
matter of course.
Clement Hazeldine called at Nairn Cottage in the course of the
afternoon. He and Mr. Kittaway were the only visitors that day. It
must be recorded of the latter that he had made a prompt offer to Miss
Brancker of pecuniary help in case funds should be needed to defray
the cost of her brother's defence; but, as we have seen, thanks to the
action of Edward Hazaldine, nothing of the kind was required.
"I thought that perhaps we should have seen Frank Derison to-day,"
said John to his sister, as they were on the point of sitting down to
supper.
"Hem! We have not been troubled with much of Master Frank's company
for some time past," replied Miss Charlotte, a little coldly.
"Indeed! How do you account for that?"
"Oh! I've nothing to do with accounting for it. I'm merely stating the
fact."
"You surprise me. But perhaps there's nothing more than a little tiff
at the bottom of his absence."
"If you mean as between Frank and Hermia, I must tell you that I don't
think Hermy cares twopence about him in the way you imply."
John stared blankly at his sister.
"My eyes have been opened of late," went on Miss Charlotte. "Whether
it's owing to trouble, or something else, I don't know, but I seem to
see many things now in a different light from that which I used to see
them in, and you may depend upon it, dear, that if our girl cares for
anybody, it's not for Frank Derison."
"Which means that she cares for someone else. But who is there?"
"What say you to Clement Hazeldine?"
"To be sure!--though I never thought of him in that connection. But do
you mean to say----?"
"I mean to say nothing, though I may have my suspicions."
"Don't you think the time has nearly come when she ought to be told?"
said John, with a significant look at his sister.
"It will be a great shock to her."
"I don't doubt that, still----"
But at this moment Hermia entered the room, and for the time nothing
more was said.
Frank had his reasons for not calling at the Cottage on Sunday. A few
days previously his mother had said to him, in her enigmatical way:
"Whatever may be the result of Mr. Brancker's trial, I think it
advisable that you should keep away from his house just at present. I
have my reasons for asking this."
That was all she had said, but Frank knew that she had paid one of her
periodical visits to old Mr. Avison a few days before, and he could
only conclude that the interdiction--for it was little less--which had
been laid upon him, had had its origin in the visit in question. It
was an easy matter for him to carry out his mother's wishes.
At a few minutes past nine o'clock on Monday morning, Edward
Hazeldine's dog-cart stopped at the gate of Nairn Cottage. John, who
had seen it from the window, walked down through the little front
garden to the gate. The hands of the two men met in a cordial grip.
"I was not well enough to see you on Saturday," said Edward, "but I
had a messenger to bring me the news of the verdict the moment it
was known. I felt sure of your innocence all along, and the jury by
their verdict have merely given emphatic utterance to that which all
right-thinking men must have been convinced of from the first. I
congratulate you with all my heart!"
"I have a great deal to thank you for Mr. Edward, and I assure you
that both I and my sister are fully sensible of all that we owe to
yourself and your brother in this terrible business. I can
conscientiously say that it was your outspoken belief in my innocence,
which all through did more to uphold and strengthen me than anything
else. I can never, never forget what I owe to you."
Edward sighed involuntarily. If John had but known the truth, what
would he not have thought and said! After a little further
conversation the two men parted, with renewed expressions of
good-will.
It was with a confluence of emotions which he would have found it
impossible to analyze that John Brancker left home for the Bank. The
familiar streets seemed as fresh and strange to him as if his feet had
not trodden their pavements for years. On his way he met more than one
friend who stopped and shook hands with him, and would fain have
detained him, had he not been in a hurry to keep his appointment;
others there were who greeted him with a smile and a cheery
"Good-morning;" while others again--such as merely knew him by
sight--stared him hard in the face as they drew near, and then turned
to stare again when he had passed.
On reaching the Bank he avoided the general office, and going straight
to the door of Mr. Avison's room, he knocked. A sigh that was half a
sob caught his breath as he passed the unforgotten door of Mr.
Hazeldine's room. What had not he gone through since he set eyes on it
last!
A voice, which he recognized as Mr. Avison's, bade him enter, and he
went in.
The Banker was a tall chin, grizzled man, with a natural stoop of
the shoulders, a high, narrow forehead, features pinched by chronic
ill-health, cold and somewhat glassy-looking eyes, a long upper lip,
and a hard yet querulous-looking mouth. He was an able financier, and
loved his profession; and it was only in obedience to his doctor's
positive orders that he had torn himself away from it even for a time.
He was a man who prided himself on being strictly just in his dealings
with others; but your very just men are liable to forget that there is
another goddess called Mercy, who is twin-sister to her at whose
shrine they bend the knee. This was a fact which Mr. Avison either did
not know, or else failed to recognize. Without being himself aware of
it, he was what is commonly called a "hard man." For the ordinary
weaknesses and foibles of his fellows he had nothing but a sort of
cold contempt. Temptations such as those which are supposed to follow
in the train of riches passed him by and left him unmoved. There were
many points of resemblance, both mental and ethical, between Mr.
Avison and Edward Hazeldine.
Although John Brancker had been acquitted by a jury of his countrymen,
the banker felt far from satisfied in his own mind that John, without
being the actual criminal, was not, in some way or other, privy to the
crime. What fortified him in this opinion was the conviction, of which
he could not rid himself, that the combined robbery and murder could
only have been perpetrated by someone, or with the aid and connivance
of someone, who had an intimate knowledge of the interior economy of
the Bank. But even with such a conviction strong in his mind, there
would have been no reason why, in his thoughts, he should have
connected John Brancker with the crime, rather than any other member
of his staff, had it not been for those other links of circumstantial
evidence which made the case as against him seem so black, while
failing to cast a shadow of suspicion on anyone else. By right, both
of position and length of service, John Brancker ought, in the
ordinary course of events, to have succeeded to Mr. Hazeldine's post;
but with such a disquieting suspicion holding possession of his mind,
and refusing to be dislodged, Mr. Avison felt that it was altogether
out of the question for him to induct John into the onerous duties of
managing-clerk. If only at his trial he had been able to disprove, or
otherwise explain away, those damaging items of evidence which, when
considered as a whole, made up such a black indictment against him,
why, in that case he, Mr. Avison, would have been the first man in the
world to do him justice. As the case stood, however----.
"Take a seat, Mr. Brancker," said Mr. Avison, indicating a chair on
the other side of the table, facing his own. "Of course, I need
scarcely tell you how heartily glad I am that the jury, by their
verdict, have exonerated you from all share or participation in the
murder of our poor friend Hazeldine, and--and in the robbery which
formed not the least mysterious feature of the case." Then Mr. Avison
paused to cough. With that ugly suspicion lurking in the background,
had he any right, he asked himself, to congratulate Brancker on the
result of the trial? Would it not have been much more satisfactory if
the criminal had been tracked down and convicted, even though he
should have been proved to be the man now sitting opposite him? But it
was not an opportune moment for putting casuistical questions to
himself.
"After, however, having taken all the circumstances of the affair into
consideration, which I have done most carefully," he resumed, "it has
seemed to me, Mr. Brancker, that you would be much more comfortable,
in time to come, and more at your ease in every way, if a situation
were found for you elsewhere, where you would be altogether removed
from the painful associations connected with your late sphere of labor
and its surroundings, which cannot fail to cling to your memory as
long as you live. In view of all this, I have much pleasure in
informing you that I have been able to obtain for you a situation in a
Bank in the West of England in which my half-cousin, Mr. Pencathlow,
is a chief partner. Your new position will be somewhat more of a
subordinate one than the one you have held with us, but with your
industry and ability, you cannot fail to rise, and that rapidly. The
salary, too, will be rather less than the one you have been in receipt
of for some years past, but I am given to understand that----"
"Pardon me, Mr. Avison," said John, with an unwonted break in his
voice, as he bent forward and laid a hand heavily on the table, "but
does all this mean that you are anxious to dispense with my services?"
"I have not said so, Brancker, and I think you have no right to draw
any such inference," responded the Banker, with a slight flushing of
his sallow cheeks. "What I have done has been out of pure
consideration for you and your interests."
"I thank you, sir, for the kindly feeling which has prompted you to
act as you have, but I am far from having any desire to break up my
home, and leave Ashdown, where I have lived for a great part of my
life, in order to settle in a strange place."
"But consider the associations, Brancker; the very painful
associations which this place cannot fail to have for you in time to
come."
"That they will be painful, I do not doubt, sir. Mr. Hazeldine and I
were ever the best of friends, and there was no man in the world whom
I respected more; but most of us have many painful things to bear as
we go through life, and, in my case, this will merely be one more
added to the number."
"Mr. Avison mused for a few moments frowningly, then he said:
"My allusions were not so much intended to apply to poor Hazeldine's
death as to other matters. I was certainly under the impression that,
after so terrible a charge had been laid at your door, and after
having undergone the ignominy of being imprisoned and brought to
trial, you would be grateful to anyone who was willing to assist you
to find a home elsewhere."
The color in John's face deepened and then paled. The look of
bewilderment that had shone out of his eyes for a moment or two
changed to one of indignation. He seemed to swallow something down,
then with quiet dignity he said, "You must pardon me, Mr. Avison, if I
altogether fail to see where what you term the ignominy comes in.
Through a series of unfortunate accidents, some of which I frankly
confess myself utterly at a loss to explain, a terrible suspicion was
cast upon me; of that suspicion my imprisonment and subsequent trial
were the inevitable outcome. But, sir, the verdict of a jury of my
countrymen has cleared me from any complicity in a crime of which you,
knowing me as you do, ought to be one of the last men in the world to
believe me guilty."
Mr. Avison chose to ignore the latter part of John's dignified
protest. "Yes," he said, in his chilliest tones, "it is precisely
because there are so many circumstances connected with the case which
still lack explanation, that----" Then he paused, staring with glassy,
contracted eyes at John.
John started to his feet with flaming eyes and quivering nostrils.
"Do you mean to imply, sir, that any suspicion, even the slightest,
still lingers in your mind that I was in any way privy to the death of
Mr. Hazeldine?"
"I mean to imply nothing, Brancker. I am not in the habit of dealing
in implications. After careful consideration of all the circumstances,
I have deemed it advisable that you and I should part, at least for a
time; for which reason it is that I have interested myself in your
favor with my relative, Mr. Pencathlow, who will, I am sure----"
"Mr. Avison, not another word is needed," broke in John, with an
abrupt wave of his arm. "If those are your sentiments towards me,
then, indeed, the sooner you and I part the better."