Bail having been refused, presumably at the instance of the police--who,
in cases where there is probability of the prisoner levanting or of
arrangements being made to defeat the ends of justice, are entitled to
object--there remained no course but that Lance Trevanion should be
re-committed to gaol. Ned Lawless was also detained for safe keeping,
the same reasons operating even with greater force in his case. This was
the third time that Lance had been brought forth to stand before a
gaping crowd--the third time that he had been transferred to the grim
precincts of a prison and heard the massive iron gates clang behind him.
'I begin to feel,' he said bitterly to Stirling, 'almost like an
habitual criminal. If there is a God that judgeth the earth, as they
used to tell us in old days, why am I permitted to be thus degraded,
falsely accused, and unjustly imprisoned?'
It was in this period of trial and sore need that Lance discovered the
nature of friendship. Genial acquaintances and friendly-seeming
personages he had encountered by the hundred. These were now for the
most part too busy or indifferent to visit him in his affliction.
Charles Stirling, however, in spite of his onerous and responsible
duties, lost no opportunity of aid or service. Sometimes he rode half
the night in order to get back to his work in proper time after visiting
the captive and comforting him as best he could. He petitioned the
Governor-in-Council, drafting and procuring signatures to a memorial
setting forth Lance's hard case and praying that he might be released on
bail. He addressed members of the Bench, and essayed to persuade them to
act independently, offering to find bail to any amount and lodge the
money. Hastings and Jack Polwarth canvassed their fellow-miners. The
newspaper press was invoked. But all in vain. The time was in-opportune.
So many horses had been stolen that a strong popular prejudice had
arisen; justice demanded a victim. A reactionary sentiment commenced to
prevail. It was openly stated that because Trevanion, of Number Six, was
a 'swell' and had dropped into a lucky claim, that was no reason why he
should be let off more than a poor man.
Wild and unsettled were the times too--those years early in 'the
fifties.' Martial law was thought necessary for the holding in check of
an army of untamed spirits. A close discriminating adherence to legal
form could hardly be attained. The upshot of it all was that, to the
disgust and despair of Hastings and Jack Polwarth, who had hoped against
hope, all their efforts were vain, and Lance was compelled to resign
himself as best he might to his enforced and protracted _duresse_.
Before leaving for Melbourne Mr. England had indeed almost guaranteed
that he only needed to be placed on his trial to be acquitted, asserting
that no jury in the colony could possibly find him guilty upon the
evidence brought before the Bench; that a committal was very different
from a conviction; that some magistrates made a point of committing for
trial all prisoners brought before them so as to escape responsibility;
that Mr. M'Alpine had a habit of acting in that way; that he (John
George England) would take the shortest odds that the jury acquitted
Lance without leaving the box.
How the weeks dragged on! Autumn was fast changing into winter when the
Quarter Sessions were held. Lance had expected to have been in Melbourne
about the time. Only to think of it! And had he not paltered with his
duty and his solemn promise might he not have been in England now,
seeing the yearly miracle of the spring transformation in that favoured
clime and hearing the surges beat against the frowning headlands of
Tintagel? Madness was in his thoughts. Why did he not dash his brains
out against his prison walls and so end the hideous burlesque upon truth
and justice, honour and common honesty even? Why had he not courage to
do so? No--it would become his father's son to die in ways and fashions
many and varied; but within gaol walls! No! a thousand times, no! That
would be a doom impossible for a Trevanion of Wychwood.
From time to time he had gleams of hope--this miserable captive so
unused to fetter and thrall. It _could_ not be. It should not be. The
eternal justice of heaven would be falsified were this wrong to befall
him. The words of prayer that he had lisped in childhood--the Bible
lessons to so many of which he had hearkened in the old Norman Church at
Wychwood--what would all these be but hollow cheats and ghastly
mockeries were he to be found guilty? It was a simple impossibility. He
had now but to wait--to eat out his heart for one other week, and
then--oh! joy unspeakable! he would be free--free! A free man--not a
prisoner! Did he ever imagine that he would attach such a meaning to the
word freedom? It mattered not. Let him but once set foot outside this
dismal gaol wall. Again he saw himself on the back of a good horse, or
at the claim with good old Jack Polwarth and his wife and Tottie--poor
dear Tottie! But here he could no longer follow out the chain of
probabilities. His eyes filled with tears, and the once-proud Lance
Trevanion, lowered in spirit and strength by confinement and meagre
diet, threw himself upon his miserable pallet and sobbed like a child.
* * * * *
The 'next ensuing Court of Quarter Sessions,' to which Lance Trevanion
had been committed for trial, was formally opened at Ballarat on a
certain Wednesday at ten of the clock. The sheriff was in attendance,
with bailiff and minor officials, and also various barristers, including
Mr. England. An unusual number of police appeared on the scene,
including the superintendent of the district--a very high personage
indeed. All were in full uniform, while conspicuous among them stood
Sergeant Dayrell, calm and impassive as usual, though a close observer
might have noticed an occasional sign of impatience.
When the doors of the court-house were opened a rush took place which
filled the building so completely that many were excluded and compelled
to remain outside, trusting to occasional reports of the exciting
matters within. The judge in his robes, attended by the sheriff, took
his seat upon the bench punctually at the appointed time. And once more
Lance Trevanion and his fellow-prisoner Ned Lawless were brought forth
to serve as a spectacle to a wondering or sympathetic crowd, as the case
might be.
The Crown prosecutor, in opening the case, alluded to 'the prevalence of
a system of horse-stealing, now become so notorious; if unchecked it
might lead to the gravest results. The jury would have an opportunity of
hearing the evidence in detail, from which they would of course form
their judgment. But they must not lose sight of the fact that the
prisoners had been caught "red-handed," if he might use the expression.
They were actually in possession of a large number of stolen horses,
many of which were of great value. Some had since been identified by
their owners, who were chiefly miners and working-men connected with the
diggings. He had no desire, he might assure them, to prejudice their
minds in any way; he would merely furnish his evidence for the Crown as
he was bound to do, and trust to the intelligent jury he saw before him
to do their duty without fear or favour. It was a painful sight to him,
as it doubtless was to them, to see two such fine specimens of early
manhood arraigned for so serious an offence. But no consideration of
that sort must be suffered to influence their minds. He would not detain
them longer, but would call the first witness.'
As in all trials, the same witnesses as on the preliminary examinations
were heard, the difference being that no written depositions were taken,
the judge only recording in his notes the evidence with care and
exactness. Mr. England cross-examined the witnesses with increased
rigour and more searching scrutiny. Every fact or fiction in their
previous history which could tend to weaken or discredit their testimony
in the eyes of the jury was fully ventilated. Every motive which could
possibly colour this testimony against the prisoners was suggested or
exposed.
Sergeant Dayrell's evidence was unsparingly criticised. To his calm and
carefully worded statements, studiously colourless, but little exception
could be taken. Still, more than one _historiette_ had been elicited
from the distant part of the colony where he once was stationed which
tended to establish his reputation for unscrupulousness, for desire for
conviction at all risks. He was forced to acknowledge that he had been
the apprehending constable in a well-known stock case near the New South
Wales border, as well as to admit that his zeal on that occasion being
in conflict with the law, had caused the committing magistrate to be
mulcted in heavy costs and damages. These and other facts being
mercilessly dragged forth somewhat detracted from the value of his
evidence.
Then Catharine Lawless was once more called. Again it seemed that the
spectators, as upon the appearance on the stage of a favourite actress,
awoke to more than common excitement and intensity of interest. All eyes
were upon her as she walked composedly up to the witness-box. Dressed
quietly but in perfect taste as before, there was so much grace and
freedom about the girl's every movement--such self-possession in her
bearing--that she looked superior to her surroundings.
She was evidently on her guard against such a display of emotion or
merely feminine weakness as had occurred at the first trial. Calmly and
imperturbably she gave her evidence, and as before deposed to having
seen Lance Trevanion in the companionship of her brother at Eumeralla,
and also at Balooka long before the day of arrest.
If there be any force in the modern doctrines of the projection of nerve
force--of the subtle relation between the mesmeric will power and the
object of its current--then, as for one moment she turned towards the
dock and confronted the lurid light that blazed in Lance Trevanion's
haughty and contemptuous regard, she should have trembled and fallen to
the earth.
But no such effect followed. She gazed back for an instant with a glance
fierce and tameless as his own, then coldly averted her face as she
repeated her lesson, as Mr. England vehemently characterised her
statement.
'Then you still persist, Catharine Lawless,' said that gentleman,
turning with unchivalrous suddenness upon his fair antagonist, 'you
persist in declaring that you saw Lance Trevanion both at Balooka and
Eumeralla on the date you have stated?'
'I have sworn I did see him,' she replied, while a shade of sullenness
commenced to overspread her countenance.
'If these witnesses, Mr. Stirling, Mrs. Delf, Mrs. Polwarth and her
husband, besides several others, have sworn that they saw him at
Growlers' at a date which makes it absolutely impossible that he could
have been within a hundred miles of the localities you mention, is that
true or false?'
'I don't care what they swear, I have told the truth.'
'That is what they have sworn. Now, you know Mr. Stirling, Mrs. Delf,
Jack Polwarth, and the rest, don't you?'
'Well, yes, I have seen them.'
'Do you think they are people likely to swear to an untruth?'
'I can't say. What I said was the truth.'
'And what they say--false!'
'I suppose so.'
As before, she was the last witness for the Crown. When her evidence was
completed, she faced Mr. England, with one indignant, half-revengeful
expression on her face, then walked slowly, and with coolest composure,
from the court.
When the case for the Crown had come to an end Mr. England in an
impressive speech 'put it to his Honour whether it was really necessary
to waste the time of the court by calling witnesses for the defence. The
other prisoner--the only accused, properly so called--had already
pleaded guilty. Was it not patent to his Honour, to the jury, to every
one in court, that this Edward Lawless--he desired to speak of him with
no undue harshness--was the real and only criminal. His client had no
doubt been highly imprudent in keeping company with such dangerous
associates as the Lawlesses, male and female, had proved themselves to
be, but he would ask his Honour, as a man of the world, Who amongst us,
in the heedless days of youth--careless of consequences, and
unsuspicious of guile--had not done likewise? Were people to be treated
as criminals--branded as felons--merely for socially encountering
persons afterwards guilty of felony? What a Star Chamber business would
this be in a British Colony!--where, thank God, every man was under the
ægis of the common law of the realm. His client, unfortunate in that
degree, had merely been a spectator, a looker-on. As to the H. J. horse,
he was as ignorant of all guilty knowledge as himself or his Honour; was
it not the wildest flight of absurdity to imagine for one moment that a
man with twenty thousand pounds to his credit in the bank would be
likely to receive--knowing him to be stolen--a fifty-pound horse? The
thing was absurd--so absurd that he would once more put it to his Honour
whether the farce should not be ended by at once asking the jury for
their verdict, which they would, he was confident, give without leaving
the box.'
The judge 'felt the force of much that had been so ably presented in
favour of his client, but, with every wish to afford the prisoner
facilities for his defence, he was compelled to decline the application
of counsel. He would prefer to hear the witnesses for the defence before
summing up and addressing the jury.'
Mr. England bit his lip, but he 'bowed, of course, to his Honour's
ruling,' and proceeded to call his witnesses.
Then commenced the deeper interest of the performance. Every spectator
appeared to listen with concentrated attention. Not a syllable escaped
attention. Not a sound arose from the dense and closely packed crowd.
All the former witnesses were called. Each in his turn gave evidence
which appeared to be so conclusively in favour of the prisoner that
every one in court thought with Mr. England that the jury would never
leave the box. Mr. Stirling, Jack Polwarth, Mrs. Delf, all testified to
the effect that Lance Trevanion had quitted Growlers' on that particular
day, Friday, the 20th September, for Balooka. When asked whether it was
possible for the prisoner, Trevanion, to have been seen at Balooka
shortly before the date named, they, with one accord, declared it to be
impossible. He had been seen every day by one or other for months
before. As to his being a couple of hundred miles off, it was absolutely
false and incredible. In addition to the witnesses heard previously, two
miners named Dickson and Judd were called, who swore positively that
they had seen the prisoner, Trevanion, on Friday, 20th September, near
'Growlers',' evidently commencing a journey to the eastward. He had a
valise strapped before his saddle, and was going along the mountain
road.
'Would it lead to Balooka?'
'Yes; that was the way to Balooka. One of them had been there, and a
rough shop it was. They were quite positive as to his identity.'
'He was a noticeable chap, and the horse he rode wasn't a commoner
either. Any man with eyes in his head would know the pair of 'em
anywhere, let alone chaps as had worked the next claim but one to him
and Jack Polwarth.'
Asked whether they were quite certain that they had met the prisoner on
the day stated by them, or whether they thought it might have been the
day before.
'It was that very Saturday morning, and no other. They were as sure of
it as of their own lives. If men couldn't be sure of that they could not
be sure of anything.'
Of course they knew Lance Trevanion well?
'Yes, very well, by sight. Not that they had often spoken to him. He was
a gentleman, a big man in his own country, they heard tell. He kept
himself a deal to himself, except in regard to the Lawless family, and
he would have done well to have let them alone too.'
Tessie Lawless, when called upon, moved towards the witness-box with a
much less assumed step than her cousin. She also turned her head towards
the dock. Those who watched her saw her face soften and change like that
of a woman who suddenly beholds a suffering child. As she scanned the
pallid and drawn features of Lance Trevanion, upon which anger and
despair, consuming anxiety and darkling doubt had written their
characters indelibly, it seemed as though she must force her way to him
and weep out her heart in bitter grief that he should be in such ignoble
toils.
Then she braced herself for the effort and stood before the judge. The
statement which she made was almost identical with that on a former
occasion. A very good impression on the jury was evidently made by her
candour and earnestness.
As she answered firmly yet modestly each question put to her by Mr.
England, the judge was observed to listen with close attention and the
jury to be unusually interested. Mr. England, scanning their faces with
practised readiness, saw in imagination their short retirement and a
unanimous verdict of 'not guilty' proceeding from the lips of the
foreman. Then, as he approached the critical period of the question
which had been so unlucky in its effects during the preliminary
examination, he felt as nearly nervous as a man of his proverbial
courage and varied experience could be. He was more than half disposed
to omit the question altogether; how he hated himself for having been
fool enough to put it in the first instance.
'I don't think I need trouble the witness with any other questions, your
Honour,' he said tentatively; but here Dayrell rose and evidently
prepared himself to interpose. With lightning quickness Mr. England
decided to put the question in his own form and fashion, rather than
leave it to the enemy.
'One minute, Miss Esther,' he said, as if the idea had just occurred to
him. 'I think you said that you were uncertain, or could not quite
recall, whether you had ever seen the accused Lance Trevanion before you
left the Eumeralla to come to Ballarat?'
This he said with a smilingly suggestive air which would have given the
cue to an ordinary witness less imbued with a sense of unfaltering right
than Tessie Lawless. But as the girl's clear brown eyes searched his
face with a troubled expression, he comprehended that there was no hope
of evasion, that he had got hold of one of those impracticable witnesses
who really do speak 'the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,' to the
consternation of lawyers and the disaster of defendants.
'I said that I _had_ seen him before, at the Eumeralla,' she said
simply, 'I can't swear anything else. I _did_ see him, and it was a bad
day for him--and--and for me too,' she added.
'Now think again, Miss Esther. Reflect that your answer to my question
is perhaps more important than any one you ever made in your life. How
can you account for Trevanion being so far from Ballarat? What business
had he there, and why should he leave Growlers' Gully, to which he came
from the ship, as I can prove?'
The girl looked again at the dock and those who stood therein--at Ned
Lawless, who lounged good-natured as ever, and smiling to all
appearance; at Lance, who stood erect, darkly frowning and with a fixed
stern expression, as of one who should never smile more.
'It will break my heart,' she said, 'but I must speak the truth while I
stand here. I _did_ see him on the Eumeralla, before we left home for
Ballarat, one day with Ned.'
'I must ask again whether there is any possibility of your being
mistaken in the identity of the accused?' persisted Mr. England. 'You
have heard doubtless of men being so wonderfully alike that strangers
could not in many cases discover the difference?'
'Just stand down for an instant. With his Honour's permission I will
recall the witness John Polwarth.'
'You are recalled upon your former oath, Mr. Polwarth. I wish to ask you
whether you ever saw an individual most strangely resembling Trevanion?
If so, when and where?'
'Yes--sartain,' replied John, looking pityingly upon Lance as he stood
in the cage, as Jack afterwards designated it. 'There was a chap as
called hisself Trevenna--Lawrence Trevenna--as coomed oot in ship with
us, and was as like the master here as he'd been his twin.'
'Was the likeness really astonishing?'
''Stonishin'! I believe you. It was the most surprisin' likeness ever I
seed, and so the missus'll tell you besides.'
'Well, what became of him?'
'Nivir heerd tale or tidings of him since he left the ship. Wasn't sorry
for that either. He was that bad-tempered and fond of card-playing that
I couldn't bear to have him in the same mess with me and the missus.'
Mrs. Polwarth, also recalled, gave similar evidence with considerable
spirit, and hoped that some of the witnesses heard to-day might have
some good cause to know the individual as she meant. 'He was death on
playing cards, and that fond of money that he wouldn't leave off when he
lost. He was the worst-tempered man in the ship.'
'That will do, Mrs. Polwarth. You may go and sit in the court with your
husband. Now, Miss Lawless, you have heard what these two most
respectable witnesses have sworn to. Are you still certain and positive
in your own mind that you saw Lance Trevanion _himself_ on the flats of
the Eumeralla, or did not rather fall in with Trevenna, who seems born
for the special purpose of complicating this most involved and unhappy
case?'
A look of relief and sudden satisfaction passed over the girl's face as
she answered, 'I do now feel in doubt. Oh! I will not swear positively.
I never dreamed that there was any one so like Mr. Trevanion.'
'Then,' pursued Mr. England, 'having now become aware that there is an
individual so strikingly like Lance Trevanion that a stranger could
hardly know them apart, are you desirous to correct your former
evidence, given in ignorance of the fact, by now declaring on your oath
that you are unable to identify the man you saw with the prisoner,
Trevanion?'
The light came back to the witness's eyes, and even a faint colour rose
to her cheeks as she answered firmly, almost joyfully, 'I believe in my
heart that it must have been Trevenna that I saw. I cannot swear now
that I saw Mr. Trevanion.'
A faint murmur of approval arose in the court, which was promptly
suppressed as the Crown Prosecutor rose.
'I do not wish, your Honour, in any way to impugn this witness's
testimony. She has every desire, I feel convinced, to speak the truth.
But I wish to ask her whether of _her own knowledge_ she is aware that
such a person as Lawrence Trevenna exists?'
'I have just heard two people swear to it,' the girl replied hastily, as
if fearful that this welcome solution of a dreadful doubt should be
taken from her. 'What more do I need?'
'Just so. But you must perceive that in the event--improbable, I admit,
but possible--that these witnesses were mistaken or misleading, you have
no knowledge of your own to fall back upon?'
'If I could only see them both together,' pleaded poor Tessie ruefully,
'I am sure I could pick out the one I saw at Eumeralla.'
'I am afraid there is no chance of that,' said the barrister, 'unless
Sergeant Dayrell can produce him.'
'Perhaps it would be convenient,' answered Dayrell, in the most coldly
incredulous tones, 'if I could produce a counterpart of the prisoner,
Lawless, at the same time. I do not wish to distress the last witness,
but one would be quite as easy as the other.'
The girl faced round, as his clear but slightly raised voice sounded
through the court, and looked full at him, with scorn and indignation in
every line of her countenance.
'I thought better of you, Francis Dayrell,' she said. 'You are acting a
falsehood, and you know it.'
Dayrell's lips moved slightly, but no sound came from them for a moment.
He bowed with an affectation of extreme courtesy before addressing the
Bench.
'Your Honour, I claim protection against such an imputation. But I make
great allowance for the witness, whose relation to the prisoners excuses
much.'
His Honour was understood to reprove the witness mildly but
impressively, and to express a hope that she would abstain from all
aggressive remarks in future.
Tessie's evidence being concluded, the Crown Prosecutor proceeded to
address the jury, pointing out what, in his opinion, were the salient
points of the case as brought out in evidence.
'In the first place, they would remark that large numbers of horses had
been and were at that very time being systematically stolen from the
miners. There existed no doubt, in the minds of persons capable of
forming an opinion on such matters, that a well-organised and
widely-spread association had been formed, by means of which horses
stolen in one colony were driven by unfrequented routes to another, for
the purpose of sale. It was not as if an occasional animal here and
there had been taken. That offence, criminal in itself, doubtless,
deserved some punishment. But, considering the great value of horses at
the diggings, their almost vital importance in the ordinary course of
mining industry, and the difficulty of following up and punishing
marauders without ruinous loss of time and expense, he was there to tell
the jury that a greater wrong, a more flagrant injustice, could not be
inflicted on any mining community.
'With regard to the prisoners arrested and arraigned together, one had
pleaded guilty and the other had denied all knowledge--all criminal
knowledge--of the fact that the horse he was riding when arrested had
been stolen. There had been evidence given that day before them which
directly pointed to the prisoner Trevanion's general association with
the Lawlesses, such evidence as, if believed by them, must lead to the
conclusion that the mode of procuring and disposing of the large number
of horses found in the elder Lawless's possession was not unknown to
him.
'On the other hand, there had not been wanting evidence most favourable
to the prisoner, Trevanion; favourable in its purport, and entitled to
respect on account of the character and position of the witnesses. It
was their province to pronounce upon the credibility of the witnesses.
He would not detain them longer. They were the judges of fact. His
Honour would in his charge direct them as to the law of the case.'
Then Mr. England arose, threw back his gown as if preparing for action
in another arena, and faced the jury with an air of confident valour.
'His learned friend, the Crown Prosecutor, had most properly confined
himself to a bare statement of facts--if facts they could be called. In
the whole of his experience of alleged criminal cases it had never been
his good fortune to be connected with a defence, the conduct of which
was so childishly clear, the outcome of which was so ridiculously easy
of solution. Putting aside for the present the utter want of all
reasonable motive for the commission of a felony--the perpetration of a
crime by a man of good fame, family, and fortune--this extraordinary
purposeless deed, for which only the wildest condition of insanity could
account, he would briefly run over the evidence for the defence.
'First, as to the character of the prisoner's witnesses, shame was it,
and sorrow as well, that he should have to refer to this unfortunate
gentleman--he would repeat the word--by such a designation. The jury
would note, giving the case that attention which was its due, that every
witness for the defence was a person of unblemished character. Beginning
with Mr. Stirling--their tried and trusted friend--what man within a
hundred miles of Ballarat would doubt his word, not to speak of his
solemn oath! Then, John Polwarth and his wife--the former a hard-working
legitimate miner, one of a class that the country was proud of, and
whose industry was rapidly lifting it to a lofty position among the
nations. His fond and faithful wife. Charles Edward Hastings, a man of
birth and culture, yet, like the majority of this population, an
earnest, efficient toiler. Then their respected friend and benefactress,
Mrs. Delf. He should like to see any one look into that lady's face and
doubt her word. The two wages-men from the Hand-in-Hand claim, men who
had no earthly interest but of upholding the truth; and last, but by no
means the least in weight of testimony, Miss Esther Lawless--the witness
of truth, even against her own sympathies, as any child could see.
'So much for the character of our witnesses and their reliability. Then
as to the agreement of this testimony. Examined separately and without
suspicion of collusion, what had been their evidence, differing only
with those shades of discrepancy which before all practised tribunals
absolved them from any hint of tutoring? Why, it amounted to triumphant
proof beyond all question or challenge, that on Thursday, the 19th of
September, Launcelot Trevanion was at the Joint-Stock Bank at Growlers'
Gully, and that he could not have started on his journey to Balooka
earlier than Friday, 20th, the day he was asserted to have been seen
there. He held this important position to be proved, so much so that he
should not again perhaps refer to it.
'Having thus briefly, but he hoped clearly, presented to them the
overwhelming weight of evidence, amounting to one of the most convincing
_alibis_ ever proved before a court, he should pass on to the evidence
for the Crown. There was an absence of direct proof, but he hesitated
not to impugn the _bona fides_ of Sergeant Dayrell and Catharine
Lawless. He owned to regarding it with considerable suspicion. He
implored the jury, as they valued their oaths, to scrutinise this part
of the case most heedfully. What the motives of these witnesses might be
he was not prepared to assert, but as men of the world they would
probably form their own opinion. Catharine Lawless had admittedly been
on friendly, more than friendly terms with the accused, why had she so
completely turned round and given damaging evidence against him? In the
history of light o' loves of this nature were found fatal enmities, and
hardly less fatal friendships; was it not probable that jealousy, "cruel
as the grave," was the motive power in this otherwise inconsequential
action? Cool and high-couraged as this witness had shown herself, he
could not avoid noticing signs of discomposure which pointed to
unnatural feelings and untruthful statements. Was there then some
relentless vengeance in the background, the secret of which was known
only to the Lawless family and Sergeant Dayrell, to be wreaked upon this
unfortunate victim of treachery? He was betrayed alike in love and in
friendship, in business and in pleasure. This conspiracy, he could call
it by no lighter name, was no accidental affair, but a carefully
planned, cold-blooded, and deliberate crime. In all trials involving
criminal action it was the habit of eminent judges to direct juries to
examine carefully the probability or otherwise of the prisoner's
_motive_ for committing the offence charged against him. In this case no
motive could possibly be said to exist. Was it likely, as he had before
inquired of them, that a man with a fortune, a large fortune to his
credit in a bank, with a weekly income of most enviable magnitude,
increasing rather than diminishing, should lend himself to a paltry
theft, such as was alleged against him? It was as though the leading
country gentleman of a county in Britain should steal a donkey off a
common, if they would pardon him the vulgarity of the simile. Gentlemen
might smile, but was there anything to excite mirth in the haggard
features and melancholy mien of the unhappy young man whom they saw in
that dock? Let them imagine one of their own relatives placed in that
position by no fault of his own, and they could understand his feelings.
He would not for an instant urge them to act inconsistently with their
oath, but he implored them to avoid by their verdict that day the dread
and terrible responsibility of convicting an innocent man.'