There had been long and anxious consultations during the evening upon
the case of Chandos Winslow: first came the question whether the
objection to the indictment should be pressed; and it was ultimately
agreed that it should not be altogether abandoned, although the
leader seemed much more confident of making a good defence than his
junior. Then came the important question of cross-examination; and
Sir ----, with tact and delicacy, but in a very decided manner,
pointed out the course which he thought it would be necessary to
pursue, and the objects that he wanted to establish.
"Our good friend, the serjeant," he said, speaking to the younger
lawyer, "thought he had made a hit this morning in regard to the
gipsey boy; but he was doing our work for us. We must endeavour, my
dear Sir, to-morrow, instead of shaking the boy's testimony, to render
it as precise as possible, so as to leave not the slightest doubt that
the murder was committed between ten minutes or a quarter past five
and half-past five; and we must endeavour to get from the old
woman--Humphries, I think, is her name," and he looked at his
notes--"an admission that Mr. Winslow might have left the cottage some
minutes before five. For these two objects we must try, more than for
anything else."
"I almost think that the game is rash," said the junior; "but you know
best."
"We are positively precluded," replied the great barrister, "from the
straightforward course of defence. I, individually, am placed in the
most awkward position as the friend of the prisoner. I believe I ought
not to have seen him at all; but my regard for him overcame my
prudence; and when I did see him, he made communications to me which,
while they left no doubt of his innocence greatly embarrassed me,
under the circumstances, as to the defence. Those circumstances I
cannot explain, even to you, my dear friend, all legal etiquettes,
notwithstanding; but you will forgive me when you know that he bound
me by a solemn promise not to reveal them to any one."
The conference did not terminate till late; and the little solicitor
was in a mighty fuss from having found that the general opinion of the
bar was decidedly against his client; a matter of no slight
importance, be it remarked; for the bar is very seldom wrong.
On the following morning, at the usual hour, the judge took his seat,
and the jury their places; the court was even more crowded than on the
day before, and the prisoner was once more placed in the dock. No
change had taken place in his appearance, except, perhaps, that he was
even a shade graver. He asked, however, to be permitted the use of a
chair, and to be furnished with pen, ink, and paper, which was granted
to him. The name of James Wilson was then called, and one of Mr.
Tracy's footmen got into the box. I shall give his testimony in his
own words:--"I am a servant in the employment of Mr. Tracy, of
Northferry House. I was so on the fifth of February last. I
remember on that day, about five in the evening, a gentleman coming to
the door and asking me if I could tell him where to find Acton, the
head-gardener. I answered that I could not, for that he had been
absent for some time, by Mr. Tracy's leave. The gentleman seemed very
much vexed, and I think said, 'How unfortunate!' But Mr. Jones, my
master's valet, who was crossing the hall at the time, came up, and
said, 'No, no, Wilson; he came back this afternoon.' And then turning
to the gentleman, he said, 'If you go through that glass-door, Sir,
and across the lawn, you will most likely find him somewhere in the
grounds. If not, he must be at his cottage in the lane just beyond;
any of the gardener's men will show you the way.' The gentleman then
crossed over, as he had been directed, and went out into the grounds.
I had never seen him before, but I remarked his face well. I never saw
him afterwards alive; but the same night, about ten o'clock, I was
called upon, with several more, to go down to a tool-house not far
from the fish-pond, and I then first heard that the body of a dead man
had been found and conveyed thither. The moment I saw the corpse, I
knew it was that of the gentleman who had been inquiring for Acton.
The body did not seem to have been rifled; and some money, a
pocket-book, a watch, and a pair of spectacles, were taken from it by
Mr. Tracy, as well as several loose papers; all of which he gave to
Taylor, the butler, to keep, telling him to mark them, and, as I
understood him, to give them to the constable. After looking at the
body, we all went down to the place where the under-gardener had found
it; we looked, as well as we could by the light of a lantern, for
steps, but we could not find much then. As we were looking for the
marks of steps, I found what they call a Dutch hoe, the iron part of
which was covered with blood, and there was some gray hair sticking
about it. When we went back to the tool-house where the body lay, Mr.
Tracy sent for Acton, the head-gardener, who came up directly; he
walked straight up to the body, when he was told a man had been found
murdered in the grounds; and, in answer to a question from Mr. Tracy,
said, he knew the dead man quite well, that his name was Mr. Roberts,
and that he was agent to the late Sir Harry Winslow. He seemed very
sad, but quite calm and cool. I see the person I call Acton in the
court. He is the prisoner in the dock. I cannot say whether he was
surprised or not; he certainly looked horrified. Mr. Tracy showed him
the hoe, and asked him whose it was. He replied immediately that it
was his, and said, that he had left it leaning against one of the
pillars by the fish-pond, while he spoke a few words to Miss Rose
Tracy; he also said that he had quitted the garden immediately after
speaking with Miss Rose."
"Did he make any remarks upon the hoe?" asked the examining counsel.
"He took it up," answered the witness, "looked at it for a minute, and
then said the murder must have been committed with this."
The examination in chief here closed, and the counsel for the defence
rose to cross-examine the witness.
"You have told us," he said, "that when Mr. Roberts called at
Northferry House, in the evening, you remarked his face well. Had you
any light in the hall?"
Witness.--"No Sir; but there was light enough to see, and the
gentleman was quite close to me. The evening light comes through the
glass doors; and what there was of it fell right upon him, so that I
could see him quite well."
"That might very well be," said the barrister, "at a quarter after
five, or even later: is it not so?"
"Oh dear yes, Sir," replied the witness; "and I recollect now, it
could not be more than ten minutes after five; for Mr. Taylor said to
me just the minute before, 'James, it is past five, and you have not
rung the first bell;' and I looked at the clock over the kitchen door,
and saw it was six or seven minutes after. I was running up to ring
the bell when the gentleman came, and asked for Mr. Acton."
"Then was it ten minutes past five when Mr. Roberts called?"
"About it," answered the witness.
The Judge.--"How long would it take to walk down from the house to the
place where the body was found?"
Witness.--"About ten minutes by the walks, my lord."
Judge.--"What do you mean when you say 'by the walks?'"
"Why, a man may cut across the lawns," said the witness.
Judge.--"Did Mr. Roberts cut across the lawns?"
Witness.--"Only a little bit; and then took the gravel walk on the
right, through the shrubbery."
After a short pause, this witness was ordered to go down; and Lloyd
Jones was called.
I shall proceed, copying from the report of the trial in "The Times."
Lloyd Jones said--"I am valet to Mr. Tracy, of Northferry House. I
remember the fifth of February last. On that day, about five o'clock,
I was passing through the entrance hall, towards my master's
dressing-room, when I saw a gentleman at the door, speaking to the
last witness. I heard him ask for Acton, the gardener, and the last
witness say that Mr. Acton was absent. Having heard one of the men say
he had seen Acton a few minutes before, going to his cottage, I
stepped forward and told the gentleman he had returned, and would most
likely be found in the grounds, if he would go through the glass doors
on the other side of the hall, and seek him. He said he would; and I
opened the glass doors for him. He cut across the corner of the lawn,
and went down the gravel walk. He walked rather fast, and seemed eager
to see Mr. Acton. I did not go down to the tool-house with Mr. Tracy
when the body was discovered. I happened to be out at the time; but I
saw the corpse next morning. It was that of the gentleman I had seen
speaking to James Wilson. I never saw the person before. The prisoner
at the bar is the person we have always called Acton. It was about
five o'clock when the gentleman came, I know; because the first bell
had not rung, and it always rang at five. There are two bells rung
every evening at Northferry; one at five and one at half-past. My
master dines at six in the country, and at half-past seven in London.
The second is called the dressing-bell. I am quite sure it was not the
second bell, which had not rung. It was the first; for I always go to
put out Mr. Tracy's things when the first bell rings."
Cross-examined by Mr. B----. --"You say that you always go to put out
Mr. Tracy's things when the first bell rings. How came you to do so on
that night before it had rung?"
Witness.--"Because it was later than usual. I suppose Wilson had
forgot it."
Counsel.--"Then you were in a great hurry, I suppose, to get your work
over, and to go and play the gentleman in the housekeeper's room."
Witness.--"No, Sir, I was not; but I know my duty, if other people do
not; and when I found by my watch that it was some time past five, and
the bell had not been rung, I said to Mrs. Hilston, 'If they do not
choose to ring the bell, it is no affair of mine. I will go and get
master's things ready.'"
Counsel.--"You seem to be a very punctual gentleman, indeed."
Witness.--"I hope I am, Sir."
"And pray how far did your punctuality extend on this occasion," said
the prisoner's counsel, in a sneering tone; "that you should risk
getting a fellow-servant into a scrape, by taking notice that the bell
had not rung at the right hour? It was not above two or three minutes
too late, I dare say."
Witness.--"I beg your pardon, Sir; it was near a quarter-of-an-hour."
Counsel.--"Are you quite sure?"
"Yes, I am quite sure," answered the witness; "for I looked at my
watch."
Re-examined.--"James Wilson is usually very accurate. I am sure I did
not intend to say a word against him; but that night he was a little
late. It might be ten minutes, or a quarter-of-an-hour. I cannot say
to a minute. I know it was a good deal after the time."
Edward Taylor was then called, and identified the prisoner as the
person who had served Mr. Tracy in the quality of gardener, under the
name of Acton. He then went on as follows:--"About a quarter-past ten
I was called to speak with Slater, the under-gardener, who seemed in a
great fright. He told me that in going his round, as he always did at
ten, he had found a dead man, lying near the pond of gold-fish. I went
directly down with him, thinking he might be mistaken, and that the
man might only be drunk. We took several of the servants with us and a
lantern. James Wilson was one of the party. We found there the body of
Mr. Roberts, quite dead and stiff, and took it up amongst us, and
carried it to the tool-house in the shrubbery. I sent up at once to
tell Mr. Tracy, who came down directly. We did not do anything to the
corpse, but carry it to the tool-house and lay it on the bench. We did
not examine the pockets till Mr. Tracy came. There was the mark of a
blow just above the temple, and a deep wound a little further back,
with some of the brains smashed upon the hair. There was a great deal
of blood about the corpse: the shirt-collar was all soaked with it.
When Mr. Tracy came he examined the pockets and took out a letter,
which I have delivered to the constable of Northferry, The letter was
addressed to 'Richard Roberts, Esq., Winslow Abbey;' and was signed,
'Chandos Winslow.' Besides the letter, Mr. Tracy took out two or three
papers, a pocket-book, a purse, a watch and seals, and a pair of
spectacles. As soon as he took anything out of the pockets, he handed
it to me, and by his orders I marked it as well as I could with a
pencil. I have delivered the whole to the constable, in whose
possession I believe they still are. He will produce them."
The witness then went on to describe the examination of the spot where
the body had been found, and confirmed, in all respects, the evidence
of the footman.
The next questions were, as to the conduct and demeanour of the
head-gardener when summoned to the tool-house, by Mr. Tracy's order.
To interrogatories upon this subject, the witness replied,--"When he
came into the tool-house, he seemed grieved and sad, but not at all
surprised. He expressed no surprise, but looked at the body very
sadly, and told at once who it was. He acknowledged that the hoe was
his, but said he had left it leaning against the pillar; and, after
looking at it, he said the murder must have been committed with it. He
said, he left the garden immediately after speaking a few words with
Miss Rose, near the fish-pond."
Judge.--"I suppose you call Miss Rose Tracy; but I do not see her name
here."
"We took it for granted, my lord, that she would be called for the
defence," said the counsel for the prosecution.
"I beg leave to say that the crown had no right to take that for
granted," observed Sir ----; "all that we could wish to get from Miss
Tracy could be obtained by cross-examination, or perhaps would appear
in her evidence in chief."
Judge.--"I think she ought to have been called for the prosecution.
Will you proceed?"
"Which way did the head-gardener return to his cottage after having
left the tool-house?" was the next question.
Witness.--"By the house; for the door near the gardener's cottage was
ordered to be locked. He could not pass to and fro between the spot
where the body was found and the haw-haw, without coming round again
by the house, or getting over the hedge or gate."
Here ended the examination-in-chief; and as it came to a conclusion, a
small slip of paper was handed from the prisoner to his counsel, who
read it, and immediately began the cross-examination. "You say that
before Mr. Tracy was informed of the fact of the murder, you went down
with some of the upper servants and removed the body to the tool-house.
At that time did any of you go from the spot where the corpse lay to
the haw-haw?"
Witness.--"No, Sir: we took up the body as soon as we were sure the
man was quite dead, and carried it to the tool-house."
"Will you swear," asked the counsel, "that when you afterwards
examined the spot with Mr. Tracy, none of you went down to the
haw-haw? Remember, Sir, you are upon your oath."
Witness.--"I never said nobody went down. Perhaps they might. I don't
recollect."
Counsel.--"Your memory seems to halt very strangely. Will you swear
that one of the men did not go down and look over the hedge into the
haw-haw to see if there was anybody there?"
Witness.--"I believe one of them did; but I am sure I do not recollect
who it was."
Counsel.--"Oh! Now, Sir, for another part of the subject; and be so
good as to be a little sincere; for recollect that you are sworn to
tell 'the whole truth,' as well as 'the truth.' You have said that Mr.
Tracy ordered the gate near the head-gardener's cottage to be locked.
Pray, did he do this of his own mere motive, or was it suggested to
him?"
Witness.--"It was suggested to him by Mr. Acton, that is to say, Mr.
Winslow, who said, that it would be better to lock that gate, and then
the men, having to go another way to their work, would not put out any
marks that might be upon the ground; and he gave up to Mr. Tracy his
own key."
Counsel.--"Well, that was not very like a guilty man. Now tell me, was
the ground hard or soft at that time?"
"Soft, Sir," answered the butler; "for the frost had not long broke
up."
"Then the marks of all the feet which went about the place would be
very distinct?" said the counsel.
Witness.--"Why, Sir, there were such a number of them, that they must
have cut one another up a good deal."
Counsel.--"Pray, were you with the constable on the following morning,
when he went to trace and measure the steps?"
Witness.--"Yes, Sir."
Counsel.--"Pray which of the line of traces was it that corresponded
with the shoes of the prisoner?"
Witness.--"They were all the same. There were two lines, one from the
fish-pond to the haw-haw, and one back again to the spot where the
corpse was found."
"That is to say, merely to and fro," said the counsel.
Witness.--"Yes, Sir; I did not see any more."
"Pray, did you measure any body else's shoes?" was the next question;
but immediately the counsel for the prosecution rose and objected to
the course of the cross-examination.
He said "that nothing in the examination-in-chief could naturally lead
to the questions now asked."
"I seek, my lord," said Mr. B----, "simply to elicit the truth, which
is, I believe, the object of the court. The witness has admitted that
one of the men, in examining the spot after the murder, went from that
spot to the haw-haw and back; and that there were but two lines of
traces. Now I wish to show--"
Judge.--"I cannot allow the argument to go on. There are rules of
evidence which no one is better acquainted with than the counsel for
the defence. He must be aware that this line of cross-examination is
inadmissible."
Counsel.--"I bow to the ruling of the court. You may go down, Sir."
He had, in fact, obtained nearly all he desired; and it may be as well
to remark, that poor Mr. Taylor was one of those victims of the bar
who, on entering a witness-box, show a certain sort of nervousness,
which immediately indicates to cross-examining counsel, the existence
in their minds of a quality which may be termed _perplexability_;
which, like the scent of the hare or the fox, instantly leads the
whole pack in full cry after them. Poor Taylor was as honest a man as
ever lived; but yet, confounded by his cross-examination, and not very
well recollecting the exact circumstances of events which had taken
place when his hair was standing on end with horror, he had told, or
admitted--which comes to the same thing--an exceedingly great
falsehood. None of the men who examined the spot with Mr. Tracy, had
gone down to the haw-haw; but the counsel had put it in such a way
that, in his confused remembrance of the events, he was at first
afraid of denying it; and afterwards became persuaded it was true. Had
he remained much longer in the witness-box, and had the counsel been
permitted to pursue his own course, there is probably nothing in the
range of possibility which Mr. Taylor would not have vouched upon
oath; for he was becoming more and more confounded every moment.
The counsel for the prosecution saw the state he was in too well to
venture to re-examine him; and thus he was suffered to depart in
peace.
The next witness who was called was 'William Sandes;' and a stout
countryman entered the witness-box, with a somewhat heavy, dogged
countenance. He deposed as follows:--"I am a labouring gardener in the
employment of Arthur Tracy, Esq. I remember the events of the fifth of
February last distinctly. I had worked in the garden all day, and at
five o'clock in the evening I was returning home with my son behind
me. In the walk that leads from the pond of gold-fish--what we call
the Temple basin--to the gate by the head-gardener's cottage, I met
Mr. Acton, the prisoner at the bar--I did not know he had come back.
He had a hoe in his hand--what we call a Dutch hoe. I have seen a
similar one in his hands often before. I saw the same, or one very
like it, before the crowner's jury--"
The prisoner here said aloud, "The hoe was mine."
The witness then continued: "Mr. Acton spoke a few words to me and to
the boy. I know him quite well, having served under him some months. I
can swear it was the prisoner I met. He was going from the gate near
his own house towards the basin. He had on a fustian coat with large
pockets, such as he generally wore on working days. I did not look at
his shoes. I did not hear of the murder till late that evening, when
one of the servants from the house came down for the key I have of the
gate. He woke me out of bed, and told me a man had been found murdered
in the grounds. I went the next morning before the crowner and told
all I knew."
The witness was then cross-examined.--"What induced you to go before
the coroner, when you knew nothing of the murder?"
Witness.--"Why the servant, that is, Burwash, the boy, who was sent
for the key, said that they all thought Mr. Acton had done it; and so
I said, 'Likely enough; for I met him just going down that way.' And
then he said I must go before the crowner, for Mr. Tracy had sent for
him; and I said I would."
Counsel.--"Very kind and liberal on all parts! But now tell me if you
were quite sure it was the prisoner. Remember, the sun was down, and
it must have been darkish."
Witness.--"Not a bit of if. It was quite light, master. I don't think
the sun was down. I saw him as plain as I see you."
"Pray, how could that be at past five o'clock?" asked the counsel.
Witness.--"I did not say it was past five o'clock. It might be a
minute or two before."
"But what I want to know is, are you quite sure?" continued the
counsel; "suppose another man, very like the prisoner, had passed you
in the same dress, at past five o'clock on a darkish evening, can you
swear that you would have distinguished him from the prisoner at the
bar?"
"Why, I tell you as plain as I can speak, it was not past five," cried
the witness; "it might be a quarter afore, for that matter."
Counsel.--"Ah! Then it was a quarter before five, and broad daylight,
was it?"
Witness.--"Yes, Sir, it was."
Counsel.--"Now then for another question, my man. I see you are a good
downright fellow, who will speak the truth for or against, without
caring. Did you and the head-gardener ever have any quarrel?"
Witness.--"We once had a bit of a tiff."
Counsel.--"What was it about?"
The counsel for the prosecution objected to the question. The judge
said he did not see how it bore on the examination-in-chief; but Mr.
B---- insisted, and he was supported strongly by his leader, who
declared that the answer of the witness would immediately show the
connexion. If it did not, it could be struck out of the evidence.
Counsel for the crown.--"After the impression has been produced?"
Counsel for the defence.--"Not at all. The cause of the quarrel is
immediately connected with the examination-in-chief. My learned friend
does not venture to put the question in a leading shape, as some
counsel would not scruple to do. But if we are overruled, I will so
frame the question in one minute as to be unobjectionable in point of
form, and perhaps less pleasant to those who seek a conviction, than
in its present shape."
He spoke with some heat, and the question was allowed, and repeated.
Witness.--"Why, it was in January last, when there was little to be
done in the garden, and I went away a bit before the time, because it
was our club night. He jawed me about it, and said as long as he was
head-gardener the men should keep their time."
Counsel.--"On the night of the fifth of February, I think you said
that you did not know the prisoner had returned till you saw him?"
Witness.--"No, that I didn't."
Counsel, emphatically.--"I have done."
Witness re-examined.--"I think it was five o'clock when I met the
prisoner, I cannot exactly say. I have a watch, but I do not always
look at it: I did not that night. I guessed it was five, and I went."
The next witness was Mr. Andrew Woodyard, surgeon, who deposed that he
had examined the dead body of a person who, he was informed, had been
found in the grounds of Mr. Arthur Tracy, of Northferry House. He had
discovered, he said, severe injuries on the head, consisting of a
contusion over the left temple, and a contused wound further back, on
the same side, which had fractured the skull and injured the brain.
The latter was the immediate cause of death. It must have been
inflicted with a sharp instrument. A blow from a Dutch hoe would
probably produce all the appearances which he had observed. He had no
doubt that the wound was the cause of death.
Counsel for the prosecution.--"Would such a blow always produce death
as an inevitable consequence?"
Witness.--"No."
Counsel.--"In what cases do you think, Mr. Woodyard, a more favourable
result might be anticipated?"
Witness.--"In cases of idiots, of atheists, and of young lawyers: that
is to say, where the brain is soft, is wanting, or is wrong placed."
Counsel for the defence, laughing.--"We shall decline to cross-examine
this witness;" and, without moving a muscle of his face, Mr. Woodyard
was about to quit the box, when the judge exclaimed in a severe tone,
"The witness will do well to remember, that to give evidence in a
court of justice is a serious matter."
"I am perfectly serious, my lord," replied the surgeon, turning full
upon him; "I am well aware that none but judges and queen's counsel at
the lowest, are permitted to play the fool in such places as this."
"I have a great mind to commit you, Sir," thundered the judge, bending
his brows upon him.
"In so doing, my lord, you would commit yourself," said Mr. Woodyard;
and without waiting for the falling of the storm, he hurried out of
the court. The judge hesitated. The judge was angry, but he saw that
the trial was likely to be long. He did not like interludes; and Mr.
Woodyard escaped.
Michael Burwash was then placed in the box, and deposed to all the
facts which had been proved by the other witnesses who had accompanied
Mr. Tracy to the tool-house on the night of the murder. He also stated
that he had been sent to ask Sandes for the key; and in addition to
the evidence of the others, he said he had seen the gentleman who was
murdered cross a corner of the lawn a little after five o'clock, on
his way to the spot where the body was afterwards found. The counsel
for the defence did not cross-examine him upon any of the points
deposed to by others. They were wise men, and let well alone. The
first question the junior counsel asked was, "Pray, what did you say
to Mr. Sandes when you asked him for the key?"
Witness.--"I told him a man had been found murdered in the grounds,
and master did not wish to have the footmarks disturbed."
Counsel.--"Nothing more?"
Witness.--"I might say a word or two more."
Counsel.--"Out with it, young man; we must have the whole."
"Why, I told him," said the witness, after having looked at the stern
face of the judge, and the impatient face of the leader for the
prosecution, "that all the servants thought that Mr. Acton had done
it; and that he ought to go before the coroner."
"What made you and the servants think the head-gardener had done it?"
asked the barrister.
Witness.--"Because he was in the grounds the last; and because we all
thought him so Eugene Aram like. He kept by himself, and talked Latin
and all that."
Counsel.--"I am afraid we of the bar are in great danger of accusation
of murder. This is the best reason ever given for having the pleadings
in English. You say, witness, that Mr. Acton, or the prisoner at the
bar, was the last person in the grounds; how did the servants know
that?"
Witness, in a whimpering tone.--"I cannot tell."
Counsel.--"I must have some answer. Will you swear that you yourself
did not see some person in the grounds after you saw Mr. Roberts cross
the lawn?"
Witness.--"No, I won't swear, because I did."
Counsel.--"Who did you see; and when?"
Witness.--"I don't well know who it was; but about ten minutes after
Mr. Roberts went across, I saw some one come up the dark walk--I was
shutting the dining-room window-shutters at the time--and he went in
by the door of the green-house."
"Then is there away through the green-house or conservatory in the
house?" asked the counsel.
"Yes; it leads into the hall on the left hand side," replied the
witness.
Counsel.--"Now we must hear more of the person. Who was it?"
Sir ---- turned and looked towards the dock. Chandos was sitting with
his arms upon the bar, and his eyes buried on them.
"I do not know--I cannot swear," replied the witness.
Counsel.--"Was it Mr. Tracy?"
Witness.--"No; it was a taller man than he."
"Was it General Tracy?"
"No; not so stout by a good deal."
Counsel.--"In a word: was it the prisoner at the bar?"
Witness.--"No; he is a good deal taller than the gentleman I saw."
Counsel.--"Was it a gentleman, then; or any of the servants?"
Witness.--"It looked like a gentleman's figure; but it was growing
dark, and he walked on very quick indeed. I could not clearly see who
it was."
Counsel.--"I have done with you;" and he sat down with a look of
satisfaction.
There was a murmur amongst the bar. The case for the prosecution
seemed breaking down. It was a result not at all expected, and the
cross-examination by the junior, who was a very young member of the
profession, but blessed with several eminent solicitors for relations,
was looked upon as highly creditable. None of the barristers were for
a moment deceived. They all clearly saw and understood that several of
the witnesses had been perplexed and confounded; and nothing had
shaken their conviction of the guilt of Chandos Winslow till the
admission made by the last witness, that some one had been seen
entering the house of Mr. Tracy, in a hurried manner, and by a private
and somewhat obscure entrance, some ten minutes or quarter-of-an-hour
after the murdered man had passed across the lawn. It was, in truth,
the first fact for the defence; and legal acumen instantly detected
that this was a verity of great importance. None of the lawyers
present, however, were ignorant of the great impression which the
admissions extracted from other witnesses might make upon a jury, if
followed up by any available line of defence; and they, therefore, as
I have said, looked upon the case as breaking down, under a pressure
of doubts, all of which must be favourable to the prisoner.
There has seldom been a trial, however, in which the opinions of the
most acute and sensible men varied so often, under the different
aspects which the evidence gave to it at different times. Through the
examination of the next witness the same feeling prevailed, namely,
that satisfactory proof would fail. The person who succeeded Burwash
in the witness-box was Henry Haldemand, the constable of Northferry,
who, after stating his rank, condition, and degree, went on as
follows:--
"There were delivered to me, when I went down, on receiving Mr.
Tracy's message, several articles which had been found on the person
of the deceased. I here produce them. The first is a letter, marked
No. 1."
This was the letter which Chandos had written to Mr. Roberts on the
night preceding the murder, and it was ordered to be read aloud. As
the reader has, however, already perused it, it will not be necessary
to reproduce it here. The impression did not seem so great upon the
court as the counsel for the prosecution expected.
The snuffling tone in which the letter was read detracted from the
effect; and it was generally regarded as merely showing that some sort
of dispute might have existed between the prisoner and the deceased,
without by any means establishing a sufficient motive for so great a
crime. It gave an additional shade of probability to the charge, but
that was all. Other papers, marked Nos. 2 and 3, were produced; but
the counsel for the prosecution thought they did not bear upon the
case, and they were consequently not read. The watch, the purse, and
the pocket-book, of course, threw no new light upon the matter,
and only occupied a few minutes more of the time of the court.
The constable then went on with his evidence in the following
strain:--"Early on the morning of the sixth of February I went to the
spot where the dead body had been found; I took with me Alfred Tims,
shoemaker, of Northferry. We found a great many footmarks round the
spot where the deceased had been lying, so many, that we could make
nothing of them. One line of steps we traced from the spot to the
haw-haw; they were very distinct upon the turf; the heel was towards
the haw-haw, the toe towards the spot where the murder was committed.
We found another line like it from the fish-pond to the haw-haw; the
heel was towards the fish-pond, the toe towards the haw-haw. In the
dry ditch beyond the hedge were several of the same footmarks, and the
hedge seemed to have been broken through. We measured the footmarks
exactly; there was but one line, either coming or going, made by a
right and left foot. After we had measured the marks, I went up to the
cottage of the head-gardener, from information I had received, and
desired to measure his shoes. He offered no opposition, and produced
the pair he had worn on the night before. They had not been cleaned;
and it seemed to me that there was some blood on the toe of the right
shoe: I can't swear it was blood; but there was certainly something
red upon it. We took away the shoes with us, and went back to the spot
in the grounds. The shoes corresponded exactly with the marks to and
from the haw-haw, and with those in the dry ditch. In the latter we
found one very distinct print; there were some small nails in the
outside edge of the shoe, and marks corresponding on the ground. I
afterwards went back to the cottage of the prisoner, to examine his
clothes; but found that he had gone down to Northferry, and taken the
clothes he had worn on the preceding night with him."
The cross-examination then commenced, and the counsel for the defence
said, "Two or three questions will be enough, witness. Are you aware
why the prisoner went down to Northferry and took his clothes with
him?"
Witness.--"To attend the coroner's inquest, I believe. I know he went
there."
Counsel.--"Voluntarily?"
Witness.--"Yes, I believe so."
Counsel.--"Pray did you measure the shoes of any one else besides
those of the prisoner?"
Witness.--"No, I did not."
Counsel.--"Were you informed that one of the men who accompanied Mr.
Tracy on the night before had gone down to the haw-haw, to see if
there was any one concealed in the ditch?"
Witness.--"No, I never heard it."
Counsel.--"That is a pity. I have done."
Judge.--"Where are the clothes? for by the notes of the inquest they
are important."
Witness.--"They are in the hands of an officer of the rural police. I
belong to the parish of Northferry: it is not in the same county. Mr.
Tracy's house is in this county, but Northferry is not." All the
counsel wrote rapid notes, expecting, probably, some nice points of
law.
A sergeant of rural police was then called, who produced a fustian
coat, upon the arm of which was evidently a large stain of blood. It
was on the inside of the arm, just at the bend, and there was no mark
upon the cuff. His evidence was very short. "I took the prisoner into
custody," he said, "after the coroner's jury had returned their
verdict: he had the coat I produce with him. I examined his person:
his hands were considerably torn and scratched, as if with thorns; in
his pocket there was five-and-thirty pounds six shillings, in gold and
silver, and also three letters, addressed to 'Chandos Winslow, Esq.'
It was then I first became aware of his real name. I had seen him more
than once before; but always thought his name was Acton. He gave no
explanation whatever in regard to the charge against him; but said,
when we were in the chaise together, that the coroner's jury had done
very right; for the evidence was strong, although he was perfectly
innocent."
Witness, in answer to the judge.--"The prisoner bore an exceedingly
good character in the neighbourhood, as a kind and humane young man.
He saved a lad from drowning--fetched him out from under the ice,
where he had been sliding, and never left him till the doctor had
brought him to."
This witness was not cross-examined; and the next witness that was
called was "Alice Humphreys." The poor old woman, who for the last
three months had acted as servant to Chandos Winslow, walked with
anxious look and trembling steps into the witness-box, and cast a
scared glance round the court, passing over the array of jurors and
barristers, till at length it lighted on the prisoner's dock, when she
exclaimed, in simple sorrow, "Oh, dear, Sir! dear me! To think of
this!"
Chandos Winslow gave her a kind look; and the judge exclaimed, in a
sharp tone, "Attend to the business before you, witness."
With a faltering voice, which called upon her many an injunction to
speak out, the poor old woman deposed as follows:--"I am servant to
the prisoner, and had kept house for him for about three months on the
fifth of February last. He had then been absent, by Mr. Tracy's leave,
about a month, and he came back on that day about half-past four. He
seemed very gay and cheerful, and asked me a great number of
questions, which I do not recollect. I remember he asked about the
little boy, Tim, that is the gipsey woman's son, whom General Tracy
took and put to live with us. Mr. Acton asked why he was not there,
and where he was; and I told him the young ladies sent him every day
to the day-school at Northferry. He seemed to be in a hurry to go out
again, however; and said he must take a look round the grounds before
it was dark; so that he did not much listen to me. It was just five
when he went out again. I know it was five, because the clock went as
he opened the door. He was gone about an hour, or a little better. The
boy, Tim, was late before he came home; he did not arrive till
half-past five, or more; and he usually came at a quarter before five.
When I scolded him, he said he had seen his mother in Northferry, and
she had kept him; and he told me, besides, he had seen a man asleep in
the grounds."
Judge.--"That cannot stand in evidence."
Counsel for the prosecution.--"Very well, my lord: we will have the
boy. Now, my good woman, when did the prisoner return?"
Witness.--"He was away more than an hour, and it was quite dark when
he came back."
Counsel.--"Describe his appearance."
Witness.--"Why, Sir, he was as white as a sheet, and his hands were
all over blood. The little boy ran up to him directly; for Tim is very
fond of him, as well he maybe, for he's a kind, good gentleman as ever
lived. But he said, 'Stay a bit, Tim, I will come down again in a
minute.' And then he went up stairs to his room, which is just over
the parlour; and presently after, as I was putting out the tea-things,
I heard some water thrown out of the window. When he came down again,
the blood was off his hands, and he had another coat on."
Counsel.--"Did you observe anything particular in his manner or
demeanour during the evening?"
Witness.--"He was very sad, and astray like, all the time. He took the
boy and kept him by his knee, and asked him a great number of
questions about his learning, and heard him a part of his catechism.
He said he had been a very good boy, and if he always behaved well and
did his duty, he would be a happy man; but he kept falling into
studies, as if he was thinking of something else; and once or twice he
got up and walked heavy up and down the room. He did not say anything
about what had made his hands bloody, nor take any notice of where he
had been."
Counsel.--"Did you remark if his hands bled at all after he came
down?"
Witness.--"No, Sir, I did not see them bleed. They seemed quite white,
as they always were: whiter than most gardeners' hands."
In answer to other questions, she proceeded to state that the prisoner
took a Dutch hoe with him when he went out, and had none when he came
back; that about half-past ten he was called away to speak with Mr.
Tracy, and then she heard of the murder; that she went up to his room
during his absence, to see if anything wanted putting to rights, when
she found his coat, all bloody on the sleeve, thrown over a chair, and
the marks of bloody hands upon the towel. "When he came back," she
deposed, "he seemed very sad, but not so astray-looking as before; and
he told her that the gentleman who had been murdered was a friend of
his, and that he should have to go down and give evidence before the
coroner. He bade me wake him, too, if he overslept himself," continued
the witness; "for he said he had walked a good way in the course of
the day, and was very tired."
Here ended the examination by the counsel for the prosecution; and a
momentary consultation was seen to take place between Sir ---- and his
junior.
"No, no; go on," said the great barrister; "no one could have done it
better. I am perfectly confident in your judgment."
"But I am somewhat fatigued," said Mr. B----; "and as it is of so much
importance, I would rather you undertook it."
"Very well; to relieve you, but for no other reason," said Sir ----,
and he rose to cross-examine the witness himself.
"When I remind you, witness, he said, that you are upon your oath, it
is simply because I believe you to have a sincere affection for your
master, as every one has who has the honour and pleasure of knowing
him; and I wish you to understand that nothing can so well serve him
as the plain, undisguised truth. Give, therefore, clear and
unhesitating answers to my questions, that the court, convinced of
your sincerity, may attach due weight to your testimony. Did the
prisoner, when he returned to his cottage, make any attempt to conceal
the blood upon his hands or coat?"
"Oh dear no, Sir," replied the witness; "he held his hands straight
before him, and came at once to the light."
Counsel.--"When you saw the coat, did it appear to you that any
attempt had been made to wash out the blood upon the arm."
Witness.--"No, Sir. There it was, plain enough."
Counsel.--"Did you remark any scratches or wound upon his hands?"
Witness.--"Yes, Sir, they were a good deal scratched, specially the
left. There was a good big tear in that."
Counsel.--"Now, you say, he came in first about half-past four. How
long did he stay?"
Witness.--"Some quarter of an hour or twenty minutes."
"But you say he went away at five," said the barristers; "how can that
be?"
The woman looked puzzled. "Why, I heard half-past four go just before
he came in, by the church clock; and clocks differ you know Sir."
Counsel.--"They do. You marked his coming by the church clock. Pray
what clock did you say struck when he went?"
Witness.--"No; it did not strike. It was the cuckoo that went."
Counsel.--"But does your cuckoo always sing right, my good woman?"
Witness.--"Not always, Sir. It is a bit too fast at times."
Counsel.--"It is not worse than other cuckoos, I dare say. There are
some of them fast, some of them slow, like men's minds--
''Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.'
Can you give me any notion how much your cuckoo clock was usually
before the church clock? It differed, of course; but on the
average--at its ordinary rate of going?"
Witness.--"Why it got on two or three minutes a-day; but I do not
recollect when I last put it back with my thumb."
Counsel.--
"'Ay, 'tis beyond the date of memory:
Event upon event so oft hath trod,
With quick recurring foot, 'tis hard to trace
The worn-out print of Time's incessant step.'
But cannot you give me some idea of what day you usually put the
cuckoo clock back with your thumb? These things acquire a regularity
by habit which is rarely deviated from, especially in regard to
clocks. Every man, woman, and child in the kingdom who has a clock,
watch, or other indicator of Time's progress, has some particular day,
or perhaps hour for winding up and putting it right. Can you tell me
what day you wound up your cuckoo clock, and whether you put it by the
church or not on that day?"
Witness.--"I always wound it up o' Saturday, at about eleven, when I
had put the pot on; and I generally set it to rights by the church, if
I could hear it, that we might not be late at service the next day."
Counsel.--"And if you did not set it on Saturday, did you ever meddle
with it during the week?"
Witness.--"Not that I remember ever. I did the two jobs together; for
I had to get up upon the stool, which I was not over fond of, for the
stool was old, and I was old; and if we had tumbled we might both have
gone to pieces."
All the bar laughed heartily, and encouraged the good old woman
amazingly: but the great barrister did not forget his point.
Counsel.--"Am I to understand you, that if you did not set the clock
on Saturday, you did not set it during the week?"
Witness.--"No, never."
"Then can you tell me if you set it on the Saturday before the
prisoner returned?" asked the counsel.
Witness.--"I can't justly recollect."
Counsel.--"Well, it got on two or three minutes a-day, you say; so if
you did set it on Saturday, the thirty-first of January, it would have
got on from ten to twelve minutes, at the least, and might have done
so a quarter-of-an-hour, before the evening of Thursday, the fifth;
which would make your other calculation right, that the prisoner
returned about half-past four, by the church clock, remained a
quarter-of-an-hour or twenty minutes, and went away at five by the
cuckoo, or a quarter to five by the church."
"That is likely," said the witness; "I dare say our clock was a
quarter too fast--it generally was. It was quite light, I know, when
he went away."
Counsel.--"Then I won't trouble you with any more questions, Mrs.
Humphreys; and I am very much obliged to you for replying to those you
have answered."
Witness.--"Well, you are a civil gentleman, I do declare!"
Witness re-examined.--"I am sure the clock went fast, not slow. I said
I put it back that we might not be too late at church, because when it
was right we were right, and if it were wrong we might trust to its
being more wrong than it was.--Well! you are a saucy one!--The other
is a very civil gentleman. But I do not see why you should take
liberties with old women."
A roar of laughter followed in the court; and the judge coughed
sonorously.
I should say that the merriest place on earth--I go no further--is a
court of justice during certain criminal trials. It seems as if the
solemnity of the scene, and the awfulness of the circumstances,
brought out all that is risible with extraordinary effect, as a black
background throws out a bright figure. Perhaps, few trials had ever
excited more strong feelings than that which was now proceeding. There
stood the prisoner, whose life was at stake, an object of admiration
to many, of interest to all; in the prime of his youth and strength;
eminently handsome; richly endowed with powers of mind; of ancient
lineage and high name; connected with some of the noblest in the land;
kind, generous, high-spirited; with genius throned upon his brow and
flashing from his eye: his life hung upon a word; and yet, the whole
court laughed at the silly simplicity of a good but vulgar old
woman--laughed cheerfully, as if there were nothing like life and
death in the world--laughed as if human suffering and human crime were
unknown in the place where they were met to inquire into the murder of
one fellow-creature, and to adjudge another, either to prolonged
existence with all its bright companionships, or to speedy death--the
scaffold, the cord, the grave, the worm!
It was very horrible that laugh; and Chandos Winslow's brow grew dark,
as if they were sporting with his fate. He could not laugh--he could
not join in their heartless merriment. More than life was at stake for
him--honour and good name--ay, and perhaps love. Verily, we human
beings are lighter than vanity; and the lake of the spirits of men is
rippled by the least of all possible breezes.
The judge was the only one ashamed at his gravity being overset; and
he endeavoured to cover his merriment by saying in a stern tone. "Old
woman--that is to say, witness, you must respect the court. Was your
clock right or wrong on this identical evening, the fifth of February?
That is the question."
"I dare say it was not quite right," answered Mrs. Humphreys; "it
seldom is for two days together; but how far wrong it was on that day
I cannot tell--may be a quarter-of-an-hour, my lord."
"It is a very extraordinary thing," said the judge, "that they will
have such clocks in the country. Neither the clocks nor the rural
police ever go right. You may go down, witness."
"Timothy Stanley" was now called; and something very small was seen
making its way resolutely through the court towards the witness-box.
The persons near stared at the child and drew back, treading on the
toes of those behind; and one of the officers of the court caught hold
of him to administer the oath. But the judge, who had a conscience,
though it was peculiarly organized, shouted out: "Stay, stay! That is
an infant. Put him in the box for a moment before you swear him. Give
him something to stand upon;" and, adjusting his spectacles, he gazed
at the small intelligent features of the boy with interest and
curiosity.
"Do you know the nature of an oath, my little man?" asked the judge at
length.
The boy remained silent for a few seconds; and then the voice of
Chandos Winslow was heard amidst the stillness of the court, saying
aloud, "That he does, my lord. I taught him."
"Why does he not answer then?" demanded the judge.
"Because your language, my lord, is perhaps above his comprehension,"
replied the prisoner. "He is here as a witness against me; but if you
would permit me to suggest, you would ask him first, What are the
consequences of a lie?"
"Tell me, my little man," said the judge; "do you know what are the
consequences of a lie?"
"Disgrace and shame amongst men, and the anger of Almighty God,"
replied the boy, readily.
The judge wiped his spectacles; for something touched him.
"Now, if you would pardon me, my lord," said the prisoner, "you would
inquire, What are the consequences of calling upon God to witness a
falsehood?"
"Do you know, boy," asked the judge, "what is the consequences of
taking God's name to a falsehood?"
"The loss of his protection for ever," said the little witness, "for
the greatest offence and insult to his truth and holiness."
There were several eyes had tears in them, and the judge said, "Swear
him--you may swear him."
"I won't be sworn!" said Tim, stoutly.
"Why not, boy?" demanded the judge.
"Because I won't say anything that may hurt him," rejoined the boy,
pointing to the dock.
There was again a silence, and Tim stood resolutely in the witness-box
with his hands in his pockets, and his eyes fixed upon Chandos
Winslow.
"My dear boy," said the prisoner; "nothing you can say will hurt me if
you tell 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,' as
they will put the oath to you. But if you are silent, they will think
you know something against me."
"Oh! that I don't," cried the boy, clasping his hands.
"Then take the oath, and tell the whole truth," said Chandos; "by so
doing you will do me more good than by any other course."
The boy gazed in his face for an instant, and then said, "Well, I
will, then; for you always tell the truth; and I am sure you would not
cheat me."
"Not for the world," said the prisoner; and the oath was administered.
The counsel for the prosecution hesitated for a moment or two, as if
he doubted whether the boy's testimony would produce the effect he
desired; but then he began the examination, touching but lightly on
the point on which he had laid most stress in his speech. He was a
sagacious observer of an opponent's proceedings, and he had already
divined from the course of examination pursued, that it was as much
the object of the counsel for the defence to fix down the commission
of the crime to a certain period, as it had at first been his own. He
looked upon a criminal trial as a sort of game at chess, where there
were certain moves of necessity, but where it was expedient to vary
his play according to the skill and the moves of his adversary. The
method in which he conducted the examination produced the following
evidence.
Witness.--"On the fifth of February I went from the cottage of Mr.
Acton--the prisoner--to the day-school at Northferry. I went about
seven in the morning. I came back to dinner at one, and returned to
school at two. I left school at a little past four. I met my mother at
the corner of the lane, and went back with her into the town. She
bought me two penny buns at the shop, and we sat down and talked in
the marketplace while I ate them. She had been selling rabbit-skins
to the hatter. I do not know how she got them. She talked to me of a
great many things. She asked me if Mr. Acton had come home yet, and I
said, 'No.' She said he would be home soon, for she had seen him. She
did not say when she had seen him. She did not say whether that day or
the day before. She only said she had seen him. The church clock had
just gone five a few minutes before; and I said, 'I must get home,
mother, or Dame Humphreys will scold.' She kept me about five minutes
more, and then let me go. It was getting quite dark when I came to the
gates of the house--Mr. Tracy's house; and as they were open and it
saved a good bit I slipped in and down the walks, into the Lady's
Walk. When I came into the Lady's Walk it was a little lighter there,
for there were no trees to the west; and I saw some one lying upon the
grass close to the fish-pond of gold and silver fishes. I am sure it
was a man, for I said to myself, 'There is one of the fellows drunk.'
He lay quite still, and I went up the walk and got over the gate to
the cottage. The prisoner was not there when I arrived. He did not
come in for more than half-an-hour. I ran up to him; but he said, 'Do
not touch me, Tim. Stay a bit, and I will be down in a minute.' I saw
that his hands were all bloody, and that there was a great mark of
blood upon his arm. He went up stairs and stayed some time; and when
he came down he had on another coat, and his hands were clean. He was
very white when he came in. His face is not usually white. He seemed
heavy, but he heard me my catechism, and talked a good deal to me till
I went to bed. I thought he looked strange, different from what I had
ever seen him look before. Often while he was talking to me, he would
begin to think, and stop in what he was saying; and once he got up and
walked up and down the room. He was very strange till I went to bed."
Here ended the boy's examination-in-chief; and it was remarked that
the counsel for the prosecution had not asked at what hour the witness
had seen the man lying in Mr. Tracy's grounds, nor at what hour the
boy had reached the cottage. Nevertheless, the impression produced by
the witness's evidence was strongly against the prisoner. The
simplicity with which it was given, and the evident bias of all his
affections towards his friend and protector, when put in contrast
with the facts which he disclosed--the pale face--the agitated
demeanour--the moody thoughtfulness--the bloody hands--the stained
garb, told wonderfully upon the minds of the court and the jury.
Nor did the cross-examination remove this impression, though
Sir ---- seemed perfectly unaffected by it, and rose with as calm and
confident an air as ever.
"You are a dear, good little fellow," he said, in a kindly and almost
playful tone; "and I wish to Heaven a great number of grown witnesses
would take example from the clear and straightforward manner in which
such a child gives his evidence. Pursue the same course, witness, and
for my part, I will do nothing to puzzle or confound you; I seek but
the truth."
Perhaps he took a little advantage of his high position at the bar,
and the respect in which he was universally held, to commence the
cross-examination in this discursive manner; but he then proceeded as
follows. "You say that your mother asked you if the prisoner had
returned home, and told you that he would do so soon, for that she had
seen him. Can you recollect exactly at what time that was?"
Witness.--"It was after five, for the clock had struck."
Counsel.--"Did your mother leave you at any time after she first met
you and bought you the two buns you have mentioned?"
Witness.--"Yes, she left me just the minute before she asked me that
question: and she told me to sit by the pump till she came back."
Counsel.--"Did you yourself see the prisoner in the town while you
were in Northferry that evening?"
Witness.--"No, I did not; but I think mother did; she kept looking
down the street when she asked me."
Judge.--"That will not do; that is not evidence."
Counsel.--"Undoubtedly it is not, my lord; but I did not seek for it.
Now, witness, tell me at what hour, as near as possible, you left the
town."
Witness.--"The quarter had not gone, but it must have been hard upon
it."
Counsel.--"And at what hour did you reach the gardener's cottage?"
Witness.--"I looked at the clock when I came in, and it wanted a
quarter to six; but then our clock is well-nigh a quarter too fast,
and more of Friday nights, for Dame Humphreys only sets it on Saturday
morning."
"Then by that calculation," said the counsel, "it must have wanted
five-and-twenty minutes, or an half-hour to six when you got home. But
tell me, do you know the clock very accurately?"
Witness.--"Yes, Mr. Acton taught me two months ago."
Counsel.--"And his kindness will safe his life. How long does it take
you, witness, to go from the gardener's cottage to Northferry? I am
told the distance, from Mr. Tracy's house to the village or town, is
nearly two miles: can you walk that distance in a quarter of an hour?"
Counsel for the prosecution.--"That is a leading question."
Sir ----. --"I only wish to make the whole clear to the jury. I am not
seeking to puzzle or to mislead; but it has been stated that the
distance is nearly two miles. The boy has said he walked it in nearly
twenty minutes, and, without pretending to disbelieve him, I wish him
to explain, to reconcile the two facts, which at first sight seem
incompatible."
Judge.--"I think the question may be put. If not put by counsel, I
will put it. The point must be made clear."
The counsel for the defence then repeated the question.
Witness.--"I walked, and I ran a part of the way, because I was late;
but the distance is nothing like two miles by the fields. I never take
more than twenty minutes to go or come; and that time I went through
the grounds, which saves a good bit. I know Mr. Acton once walked
there and back in half an hour, and bought me a book too."
Counsel.--"Thus the matter is easily explained. One can see, by the
plan submitted by the prosecution, that the high road to Northferry
takes innumerable turnings and windings. Can you give me any distinct
idea, witness, of what o'clock it was when you saw the body of a man
lying by the fish-pond?--By Northferry clock, I mean."
Witness.--"It must have been half-past five, as near as possible."
Counsel.--"You are sure it was not six?"
Witness.--"How could that be? When I got home it wanted a quarter to
six by our clock, and that is always a good bit too fast."
Counsel.--"You are sure it is never too slow?"
Witness.--"Oh dear, no. If I were to go to school by it I should
always be there before any of the other boys."
Counsel.--"And you are sure the prisoner did not return for full half
an hour after your arrival?"
Witness.--"It was more than that--five or ten minutes more."
Counsel.--"Did you see any scratches on his hands, making them bleed?"
Witness.--"No, I did not see any. His hands did not bleed at all after
he came down again."
Counsel.--"How long might he be absent when he went up to his room?"
"Some five or ten minutes, I dare say," said the boy.
The counsel here sat down, and the boy was re-examined at some length
by the counsel for the prosecution, without eliciting any new fact, or
causing him at all to vary in his statements.
Four or five other witnesses were examined to various minute facts, of
no great importance in themselves, but all bearing more or less upon
the case.
The exact distance from Mr. Tracy's house to the place where the
murder was committed, the proximity of the body, when found, to the
temple over the fish-pond, the extent of space between that building
and the haw-haw, and the distance thence to the gardener's house, were
amongst the facts proved; and at length the counsel for the
prosecution declared his case closed.
It was between four and five in the afternoon, and the judge, who for
some time had been showing symptoms of impatience, inquired of the
prisoner's counsels whether they thought they could conclude, that
night.
"The court is intensely hot," said the learned judge. "We have sat
here from an early hour in the morning; but I am most anxious that
to-morrow should be left free for the remaining business of the
assize; and if sure of finishing to-night, we would proceed with the
trial, after taking some refreshment. I would rather sit till midnight
than not conclude to-day."
"Why, my lord," replied Sir----, "I and my learned friend who is with
me in the cause, think that four or five hours would be quite enough
for us; but if there is to be a long reply, of course the business
cannot be concluded to-night."
"I cannot limit myself as to my reply," said Sergeant ----. "Having an
important duty to perform, and not knowing what will be the line of
defence, I can make no promise as to time; and I can see clearly that
my reply cannot be very short."
"Then the court will adjourn," said the judge, somewhat sulkily; and
at the same moment he rose to retire.
Let it be remembered, that this day was marked in the calendar as the
ninth of the month; for dates may be important things even in a novel,
and in this instance a man's life hung upon the events of a single
day.