ONE SINGLE WITNESS.
This is all true as it is strange;
Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth
To the end of reckoning.
--SHAKESPEARE.
Every one arose and looked around to catch sight of the expected
witness.
But no one was so much affected as the accused. He started to his feet
on first hearing the name of Craven Kyte, and then dropped back into his
chair, pale as marble.
Evidently he had not expected to hear this man called.
In the meantime a little bustle was heard in the bottom of the hall, as
of some one pushing his way through the crowd.
And presently Craven Kyte, pale, calm, handsome and well-dressed in
clerical black, came forward and entered the witness-box.
He bowed to the presiding judge and stood ready to give in his
testimony.
All eyes within range of them turned constantly from the witness on the
stand to the prisoner at the bar.
The two men were perfect duplicates of each other.
The oath was administered to the witness.
Mr. Berners conducted the examination.
"Please to state your name and age, the place of your nativity, and all
you know of the marriage performed at the Church of St. ----, in the
city of Philadelphia, on the fifteenth day of September last, between
the hours of twelve and one p. m.," said the counsel.
"My name is Craven Kyte. I am a native of this town. I am twenty-three
years of age. I know Mrs. Mary Grey, one of the parties to this
marriage. I was engaged to be married to her. On the evening of the
fourteenth of September I arrived in Philadelphia, having followed her
there at her request. On the morning of the fifteenth I met her by
appointment at the art gallery of Bertue Brothers. It was arranged that
we should be married on that day. I took a cab and we entered it. At her
suggestion I directed the driver to take us to the rectory of the
Reverend Mr. Borden. As we drove along she proposed that I should marry
her under the name of Alden Lytton."
At these words of the witness there was an immense sensation in the
court, breaking forth into murmurs of astonishment and indignation, so
that the judge arose in his place and said that order must be observed
or he should be obliged to command the clearing of the court-room.
His words produced the proper effect, and the spectators became "as
still as mice."
The examination of the witness was resumed.
"You say that Mrs. Mary Grey proposed that you should marry her in the
name of Mr. Alden Lytton?"
"Yes. I was very much astonished at the proposal, and expostulated with
her about it; but she was in earnest, and at last she made it an
absolute condition of my ever getting her at all that I should marry her
under the name of Alden Lytton."
"What reason did she give for this singular request?"
"She said she only wanted to play a harmless practical joke upon Miss
Cavendish, the betrothed of Mr. Lytton."
"But her joke was so deep and earnest that she made it the only
condition upon which she would marry you at all, you say?"
"Yes, sir."
"And did you comply with that condition?"
"Yes, sir. Sooner than lose her I complied with that wicked condition.
It did not seem wicked to me then. It only seemed foolish and
purposeless. And, besides, I firmly believe I was half crazy at that
time."
"Quite likely," said Mr. Berners, dryly. "What followed?"
"Well, sir, and gentlemen, we drove to the rectory. She took a blank
card out of her pocket and with a pencil wrote Mr. Alden Lytton's name
on it, and told me to send that in to the rector as if it were my own.
When I looked at the name on the card, I exclaimed how much it looked
like Mr. Lytton's own handwriting; and she said so much the better."
Again, at these words, a murmur of indignation ran through the
court-room, which was, however, instantly suppressed, as every one
wished to hear every word uttered by this witness.
He continued:
"I rang the bell at the rectory, and sent the card in by the servant who
came to open the door. Presently I was invited into the rector's study.
He addressed me as Mr. Lytton, and wanted to know how he could serve me.
Then I told him what I had come for. And he consented to perform the
marriage ceremony, but said that he must do it in the church, which was
just next door to the rectory. I went back to the carriage for Mary--"
"Meaning Mrs. Grey?"
"Yes. But I called her 'Mary' then. I went back for her, and brought her
into the church, where, under the name of Alden Lytton, I was married to
Mary Grey by the Reverend Mr. Borden, in the presence of John Martin,
sexton of the parish, and of Sarah Martin, his daughter. A marriage
certificate, signed by the minister and witnesses, was then given to
Mrs. Grey."
"What happened next?"
"At her request I drove her back to the Blank House, where she had been
stopping. She got out at the corner of the street, however, and walked
to the house, while I waited in a neighboring reading-room for her
return. After an hour's absence she came back, and we drove to the
Asterick, where I had engaged rooms for us both. But she declined
staying in town any time, and expressed a wish to go to Havre-de-Grace.
So we only stopped at the Asterick long enough to pay my bill and gather
up my effects, and then we took the train for Havre-de-Grace, where we
arrived the same afternoon."
Here the witness suddenly became so much agitated that he could not go
on for some moments.
Mr. Denham brought him a glass of water.
He drank and seemed somewhat revived.
"Tell us what occurred at Havre-de-Grace."
"We took rooms at the Star, had tea there, and after tea she proposed to
take a walk down by the water-side, as the evening was so delightful.
When we had walked a while she proposed that we should hire a boat and
go rowing. I objected, being but an indifferent oarsman. But she
insisted, declaring that she had been brought up on the water-side and
could row like a squaw and swim like a fish. I was her slave, and I
obeyed her. We hired the boat of her choice--a mere shell of a boat--"
Here the judge, who had been growing a little impatient, inquired of the
counsel for the defense:
"Pray, Mr. Berners, what has all this about the boat to do with the case
on trial?"
"It has a great deal to do with it, your honor, as tending to prove that
this woman had a deep design upon the peace and honor of the gentleman
whom she claims as her husband, and that she did not hesitate at any
crime to carry out that design to a successful issue," respectfully
replied the counsel.
"Let the witness proceed then," said the judge.
"What happened next?" inquired Mr. Denham.
"Murder happened next--at least, an attempt at murder. We got into the
little shell of a boat, and I took the oars and rowed out into the river
and down with the tide. We rowed about for more than two hours. It grew
very dark and I then wished to come in; but she objected, and asked me
to row around a certain point that I saw dimly down the river. I rowed
to the point and around it, when suddenly she made an exclamation that
her hat had fallen into the water, and she begged me to get it for her.
It floated about three feet from the side of the boat. I drew in my oars
and secured them, and then leaned over the side of the boat and reached
out my hand to get the hat, which was floating further off. I had to
lean so far over, and stretch my hand so far out, that it was as much as
ever I could do to keep my balance. But just as I touched the hat she
gave me a sudden and violent push from behind and sent me into the
water."
At this a murmur of horror and indignation passed through the
court-room. And on this occasion no one attempted to enforce silence.
But soon the deep interest of the audience in the story of the witness
closed their lips and opened their ears again, and they became silent
and attentive.
"Do you mean to say that Mrs. Grey pushed you into the water purposely?"
inquired Mr. Denham.
"Yes, sir. She could not have done it accidentally. She waited until I
had leaned so far over that the least jar might have made me lose my
balance; and then suddenly, with all her strength, she pushed me, and I
dropped into the water and sunk like so much lead. I could not swim at
all. Twice, in my struggles for life, I rose to the surface and cried
for help. Both times I saw her boat whirling round and round from the
impetus given it by the violence with which she had pushed me over. The
second time I sank I lost my senses. When I recovered them I found
myself stretched out on the deck of a collier, with several people
rubbing and rolling me. But I was weak in all my limbs and sorely
confused in my head."
"Witness, can you not shorten this?" inquired the judge.
"Yes, your honor, I can shorten it, if they will permit me. The schooner
that picked me up was the 'Sally Ann,' trading from Havre-de-Grace, and
other coal depots, to Washington and Georgetown. They were outward bound
then, and, as I could give no account of myself, being so nearly dead,
they took me along with them. They carried me to Washington, where I lay
ill in the free ward of the Samaritan Hospital, under the care of the
good Sisters of Mercy, for two months. When I recovered sufficiently to
know where I was I found out that I had been registered there under the
name of Albert Little. I don't know how that happened, but I suppose
somebody must have found in my pocket the card with Alden Lytton written
upon it, and perhaps blotted with the river water, and had misread it
Albert Little. But that is only a conjecture."
"Confine yourself to facts, witness, and leave conjectures," said the
judge.
"Well, your honor, the fact then was that my name was registered Albert
Little, however it came to be done. I did not care to set the good
Sisters right about my name, and so I let the matter go. As soon as I
was able to write, and before I was able to walk, I wrote to my senior
partner, Mr. Bastiennello, a private and confidential letter, asking him
to come and visit me at the hospital, and to inquire there for one
Albert Little. Mr. Bastiennello, who had suffered great anxiety on the
subject of my long protracted and unaccountable absence, came at once to
see me. I told him of everything that had befallen me, especially as to
Mary Grey's insisting on my marrying her under the name of Alden Lytton,
and afterward attempting to get rid of me by murder. He was dreadfully
shocked, of course, but in a subsequent conversation with me suggested
that Mrs. Grey had some ultimate purpose in the perpetration of these
crimes, and he advised me to lie perdue for a while until we should see
what her purpose was and foil her in it. Some days afterward he proposed
that I should take a commission from him to go and purchase goods for
him in Europe. As soon as I was able to travel I left the country on
this business. I was absent several months, and only arrived in my
native country five days ago. On the day after my landing at New York,
in looking over some files of newspapers, I read the advertisements for
me. I guessed at once that I was wanted for business connected with the
secret of my own life, and so I packed up and took the first train to
Washington, and the next boat to Richmond, and the train to Wendover,
without stopping an hour on my journey. I reached this place at noon
to-day; found the town full of people, as if a fair or a festival was
going on; asked what was the matter, and was told about this trial. Of
course then I had the key to Mary Grey's mysterious crime, and I knew
where I was wanted. I came at once to the court, wrote my name on a card
and sent it in to Mr. Lytton's junior counsel, who came out to meet me
and brought me here."
"That will do, Mr. Kyte. Gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the
testimony of our witness, the only and all-sufficient witness for the
defense; but we will recall one who appeared here as the most important
witness for the prosecution. The Reverend Mr. Borden will please to take
the stand once more," said Mr. Berners.
The rector of St. ---- came forward and took his place in the witness
box.
"Mr. Borden, will you be so good as to look at these two gentlemen and
tell me, upon your oath, which of them you married to Mrs. Mary Grey?"
politely requested Mr. Berners.
The rector looked from Alden Lytton to Craven Kyte, and from Craven Kyte
back to Alden Lytton. And his face paled and flushed as he exclaimed:
"May the Lord of heaven forgive me, for I have made an awful mistake! It
was _that_ gentleman whom I married to Mrs. Grey;" and he pointed
straight to Craven Kyte.
A murmur of great excitement passed through the court-room.
"A while ago you swore it was the other man," said Mr. Desmond, with an
ugly sneer.
"So I did! May Heaven forgive me for the awful, though unconscious
perjury; for so I thought, with all my judgment, until I saw this last
man! And certainly they are perfect duplicates of each other. Any one,
under the same circumstances, might have made the same mistake," meekly
replied the minister.
And certainly every one who saw and compared the two men agreed with the
last speaker.
"Will you be so good, reverend sir, as to explain by what test you now
know these perfect duplicates, the one from the other, and are enabled
to identify the particular one whom you married to Mrs. Grey on the
fifteenth of the last September?"
"Certainly, sir. I can distinguish them by a certain indefinable
difference which I can perceive while I see them together, but which I
might fail to perceive if they were apart from each other. Also I can
identify this last man, who calls himself Craven Kyte, by that small
mark or scar that he bears on his temple near the corner of his left
eye. I noticed it at the time I performed the marriage ceremony, but I
thought it was a fresh scar. And I never remembered it at all when
called upon to identify Mr. Alden Lytton, or indeed until I saw it again
upon Mr. Craven Kyte."
"That will do," said Mr. Desmond; and the minister was allowed to
retire.
John and Sarah Martin were recalled in succession, and each, when
confronted with the two men, recanted from their late testimony, and
swore pointedly to the person of Craven Kyte as the man whom they saw
married to Mary Grey.
At this point the foreman of the jury arose in his place and asked
permission of the bench to render their verdict at once, as they had all
quite made up their minds upon the case.
After a few moments' consultation, the requested permission was given,
and the jury, without leaving their seats, rendered their verdict of--
"Not guilty!"
The accused was formally discharged from custody. And then the judge did
an almost unprecedented thing. He adjourned the court, came down from
the bench and warmly shook hands with Mr. Lytton, congratulating him
upon his complete vindication.
And friends crowded around him, rejoicing with him in hearty sympathy.
Among them came Craven Kyte, saying, as soon as he got a chance to
speak:
"Mr. Lytton, I have come to implore your pardon for the great wrong I
unconsciously did you. Heaven knows I never meant it!"
"I do not believe that you ever did," said Alden Lytton, kindly, taking
his hand.
"I was mad and blind. She told me it was only to be a practical joke,
and made it the only condition of our marriage, and I complied because I
was her slave," continued Craven Kyte, not very clearly.
"Say no more about it. Forget it all as fast as you can. I shall,"
answered Alden, gently pressing and relinquishing the hand that he had
held.
"Your carriage waits, my dear Lytton. And I am sure you are anxious to
get back to Blue Cliffs and be the first to convey this good news to
your wife," said Mr. Lyle, with a view to help Alden to get rid of his
well-meaning but troublesome friends, who, in the earnestness of their
sympathy with his triumph, forgot they were keeping him from her whom
his soul most longed to meet.
Friends took the gentle hint, shook hands with him and released him.
And very soon Alden Lytton, with Mr. Lyle and Laura, were on their way
to Blue Cliffs.
As the carriage rolled into the yard, Emma ran down the steps, her face
radiant with joy, to meet the beloved husband from whom she had been
separated for so many weeks under such trying circumstances, and whose
face she had been the first to see through the glass windows of the
carriage.
A moment more and they were locked in each other's arms, fervently
thanking Heaven for their happy reunion.
Later that evening the six friends were all assembled together in the
drawing-room.
John Lytton and Charley, who were the guests of the house for the night,
had just bid them good-night and retired to their room.
And then and there two little confessions were made.
Alden Lytton related the whole history of his foolish boyish love for
the fascinating and unprincipled widow who had so nearly effected his
destruction.
Emma listened in full sympathy, with his hand clasped in hers; and no
retrospective jealousy disturbed the serenity of her loving and trusting
spirit.
And at the close of the story she silently raised his hand and pressed
it to her heart. That was her only comment. And the subject was never
afterward mentioned between the two.
Then it was that Joseph Brent made his identity known to Alden Lytton,
Emma and Laura, as it had long been known to Mr. Lyle, his friend, and
to Electra, his wife. And Emma and Laura wept anew over the long past
sorrows of poor Victor Hartman.
Alden grasped his hand in earnest gratitude and friendship.
"And it is to _you_," he said, "that my sister and myself owe all our
present happiness. You thought for us, planned for us, toiled for us,
made us even as your own children, simply because you were falsely
accused of having made us fatherless!" he said, as the generous tears
filled his eyes.
"I did all this because, but for the mercy of Heaven, a mad blow of
mine _might_ have made you fatherless, as it nearly did," answered
Victor Hartman.
"Do you know who really struck the fatal blow and why it was struck?"
"No; I know neither one nor the other."
"Then you shall learn, for now is the time to speak," said Alden Lytton.