We must now return for a short time to Mr. Dudley, having brought up
many of the other personages connected with this tale nearly to the
same point at which we last left himself. As soon as he had entered
the lodge in the custody of the two constables, he demanded in a calm
tone to see their warrant, entertaining but little doubt that he had
been apprehended for taking some share in the riots of which he had
been a witness, and that the ignorance of the men who held him in
custody had occasioned the use of such very vague and unsatisfactory
terms as 'murder or manslaughter, as the case may be.' What was his
astonishment, however, when he read as follows:--
"To the Constable of the Hundred of ----, in the County of ----, and
all the other Peace Officers of the same County.
"Forasmuch as Patrick Ferrars, of the parish of Brandon, in the said
county, servant, hath this day made information before me, Stephen
Conway, Esquire, one of her Majesty's justices of the peace, in and
for the said county, that he hath just cause to suspect, and doth
suspect, that Edward Dudley, Esquire, on the ---- day of ----, in the
year of our Lord 18--, at or near the place called Clive Down, in the
said parish of Brandon, in the said county, feloniously, wilfully, and
of his malice aforethought, did kill and murder Henry Lord Hadley, by
striking him sundry blows, and throwing him over the cliff at the said
place, by which the said Lord Hadley instantly died: these are
therefore to command you, or one of you, in her Majesty's name,
forthwith to apprehend and bring before me, or some other of her
Majesty's justices of the peace, in and for the said county, the body
of the said Edgar Dudley, to answer unto the said charge, and be
farther dealt with according to law. Herein fail not."
"Good heaven!" he exclaimed, in a tone of astonishment, which could
not be assumed; "do you mean to say that Lord Hadley has been killed?"
"Come, come, master, that won't do," said the dull brute into whose
hands he had fallen. "You know all about it, I dare say. You must
march into that 'ere room till to-morrow morning, for there's no use
in taking you twenty miles to the jail, to bring you back again
tomorrow to the crowner's 'quest."
It was with great difficulty that Dudley restrained his temper. The
charge at first sight seemed to him ridiculous, and he would have
scoffed at it, if horror at the fate of his unhappy pupil had not
occupied his mind so completely that no light thought could find
place.
"I ask you civilly, sir," he said, moving into the room pointed out,
closely followed by the constables, "to give me some information in
regard to facts which I must know to-morrow morning, and in which I am
deeply interested. If you are so discourteous as to refuse me an
answer, I cannot force you; but at the same time I suppose there is
nobody on earth but yourself who would think of denying me some
information respecting a friend who, I gather from your warrant, has
been killed."
"Very like a friend to pitch him over the cliff!" answered the
constable. "Howsumdever, the magistrates know all about it, and you
had better wait and talk to them, for if you talk more to me I shall
send down for the handcuffs: a fool I was for not bringing them with
me. We shall sit up with ye by turns, for I am not going to let ye get
off, master, you may depend upon it."
Dudley only replied by a contemptuous smile, and, seating himself in a
chair, he gave himself up to thought, while the one constable took a
place opposite, and the other retired and locked the door. For nearly
two hours Dudley remained meditating over the strange turn which had
taken place in his fate; and as he reflected upon various
circumstances which had occurred during the evening, his situation
began to assume a more serious aspect than it had at first presented.
Not that he supposed, for one moment, he was in the slightest danger,
for his consciousness of innocence was too great to admit of his
believing that, when his whole conduct was explained, even a suspicion
would rest upon him; but he recollected the violent dispute which he
had had with Lord Hadley in the morning, in the presence of several
witnesses, and also called to mind that when he had gone out after
dinner, in order to fulfil his promises to Eda, he had been followed
and overtaken by Lord Hadley, and that the first part, at least, of
their conversation had been carried on in a sharp and angry tone. He
remembered, too, that they had met several people, and that though in
the end the young nobleman had seemed somewhat touched by his
remonstrances, and surprised and vexed at his decided resignation of
all farther responsibility regarding his conduct, no one had witnessed
the more moderate and kindly manner in which they had parted, or could
prove that they had parted at all before the fatal occurrence of which
he had such vague information. The attempt to extract anything more
from the constable he saw would be in vain, though he thirsted for
intelligence; and his thoughts, after dwelling for some time upon his
own case, naturally turned to the unhappy youth who had been cut off
at so early a period, in the midst of a career of folly and vice. He
could not help sighing over such a result; for notwithstanding
headstrong passions, and a certain degree of weakness of character,
which would have prevented Lord Hadley from ever becoming a great man,
Dudley had perceived some traits of goodness in his nature, which,
under right direction, either by the care of wise and prudent friends,
or by the chastening rod of adversity, might have been so guided as to
render him an estimable and useful member of society. His mind
reverted to his own young days, and he recollected wild schemes, rash
enterprises, some faults and follies which he now greatly regretted;
and he thought, "If I had gone on, the pampered child of prosperity, I
might perhaps have been like him." He did himself injustice, it is
true, but still the fancy was a natural one; and he felt, at least,
that in his case 'the uses of adversity had been sweet.'
The body and the mind are alternately slaves to each other. When
stimulated to strong exertion, the mind conquers the body; when
oppressed with fatigue or sickness, the body conquers the mind; but
the powers of both seem sometimes worn out together, and then sleep is
the only resource: that heavy, overpowering sleep, the temporary death
of all the faculties; when no memory of the past, no knowledge of the
present, no expectation of the future, comes in dreams to rouse even
fancy from the benumbing influence that overshadows us. Such was the
case with Dudley at the end of those two hours. He had gone out early
in the morning in the pursuit of healthful exercise; but in the course
of his ramble with Edgar Adelon, subjects had arisen which moved him
deeply. His young companion, with all the warm enthusiasm and
confidence of his nature, had poured forth to him all the stores of
grief, anxiety, and indignation, which had been accumulating in
silence and in secret since first he had become aware of Lord Hadley's
pursuit of Helen; and Dudley, entering warmly into his feelings, had
chosen his course at once. He had determined to speak decidedly to his
pupil; to place before his eyes the scandal and the wickedness of that
which he was engaged in; to demand that it should either cease at
once, or he quit Brandon; and in case he refused, to resign all
farther control over him, and instantly to make the young peer's
relations in London aware of the fact and the cause. Then had come the
fierce and angry discussion with Lord Hadley, followed by an agitating
conversation with Eda; another dispute with his pupil, perhaps more
painful than the first; the hurried and anxious walk to Barhampton,
and the troubled scene which had taken place there. He was exhausted,
mentally and corporeally; and at the end of two hours he slept,
leaning his head upon his folded arms, and remaining so still and
silent, that it seemed as if death rather than slumber possessed him.
His sleep lasted long, too, and he was aroused only by some one
shaking him roughly by the shoulder on the following morning. Dudley
started up, and wondered where he was; but gradually a recollection of
all the facts returned; and the man's words: "Come, master, the
crowner is sitting," required no explanation.
Somewhat to Dudley's surprise, when he reached the door of the lodge,
he found the carriage of Sir Arthur Adelon waiting for him; and
entering with one constable, while the other took his seat upon the
box, he was driven up the avenue to Brandon House. The servants at the
door showed no signs of want of respect, and he was immediately
conducted between his two captors into the library, where he found a
number of persons assembled in a confused mass at the end of the room,
and the coroner's jury seated round the large table, near the windows.
In the centre was a portly man in a white waistcoat, with a pompous,
wine-empurpled face, and an exceedingly bald head, whom he concluded
rightly to be the coroner. Several magistrates were also in the room,
amongst whom were two persons with whom he had dined at the table of
Sir Arthur Adelon a few days before; but Dudley looked in vain for the
baronet himself, or for any well-known and friendly face. He wanted no
support, it is true; for he was not timid by nature, and he was
conscious of innocence; but yet he would have felt well pleased to
have had friends around him. One of the magistrates shook hands with
him, however, and the other bowed; while some people near the coroner
whispered to that officer, whose eyes were instantly fixed upon the
new comer.
"Mr. Edward Dudley, I believe," he said, aloud; and when Dudley
signified that it was so by bending his head, the other continued:
"Although not strictly necessary, sir, inasmuch as this is an inquest
for the purpose of ascertaining how a certain person met with his
death, and we consequently as yet know nothing of accused or accusers,
yet, as I have been given to understand that a warrant has been issued
for your apprehension under the hand of my worshipful friend, Mr.
Conway, I have thought it best that you should be present, in order
that you should watch proceedings in which you are deeply interested.
You will remark that it is not necessary for you to say anything upon
this occasion, and to do so or not must be left to your own
discretion."
"I thank you for your caution, sir," replied Dudley; "although, having
been bred to the bar, it was not so necessary in my case as it might
be in some. I have no knowledge of the circumstances which have caused
any suspicion to fall upon me, and shall hear with interest the
evidence which may be given regarding facts that I am utterly
unacquainted with."
"Ahem!" said the coroner. "We will now hear the witnesses in the
natural order, gentlemen of the jury. By the natural order, I mean the
order in which the facts connected with the discovery happened. Our
first question will be, where and how the body was found; next, whose
the body is--for you will remark, gentlemen of the jury, that at the
present moment all we know is, that the body of a dead man has been
found under exceedingly suspicious circumstances, and we must have it
identified; then we must inquire how he came by his death. If the
person who first found the corpse is in court, let him stand forward."
A man of somewhat more than six feet high, in a round jacket and
oilskin hat, advanced to the table, and gave his evidence in a very
clear and intelligent manner, saying, "I was standing out upon the
sand last night, near upon low water----"
"Where at?" asked the coroner. "Pray describe the place as accurately
as possible."
"Why, it was just between Gullpoint and our cottages at St. Martin's,"
replied the boatman; "and the hour might be about eight, or near it.
The water was not quite out, so it must have been about eight. I was
standing looking out after the French brig, which had been making
signals like, with lights of different colours, which I did not
understand, when all in a minute I heard some one give a sort of loud
cry, just as if they had been hurt or frightened. It came from the
land, and I heard it quite plain, for the wind set off shore, and
turning round, I looked up in the way that the sound seemed to come
from----"
"Was it moonlight?" asked the coroner.
"Lord bless you, no, sir!" replied the boatman; "but the night was not
very dark, for that matter. However, as I turned, I heard a bit of a
row at the top of the cliff, and I could see two men standing up there
close together, one a tall man, t'other a little shorter; and the tall
one hit the other twice or three times, and then down he came. I could
see him fall back, but after that I lost him, for you see, sir, as he
tumbled down the cliff, it was darker there. When they were a-top,
they had got the sky behind them; but when he fell, he got into the
gloom, and I saw no more of him, till hearing a cry almost like that
of a gull, only louder, I ran up as hard as I could. As I came over
the shingle near the cliff, I heard a groan or two, and just below the
rock I found the young man who is in t'other room, lying with his feet
to the beach and his head to the cliff; so, you see, he must have
turned right over, once at least, as he tumbled."
"What distance were you from the cliff when you saw the two men
quarrelling?" asked the coroner.
"It might be a hundred yards or more," replied the boatman; "perhaps
two."
"And did you see them clearly?" inquired the officer.
"Clear enough to see what they were about," answered the fisherman,
"but not to see their faces."
"You have said one was tall, the other shorter," continued the
coroner; "do you see any one here of the height of the taller one, as
far as you can judge?"
The man looked round him, and it so unfortunately happened that
Dudley, anxious to hear all the evidence, had taken a step or two
forward. The boatman's eyes instantly fell upon him, and pointing him
out with his hand, he said, "Much about that gentleman's height, I
should think."
"Do you mean to say, that you think he was the man?" asked the
coroner, while a slight frown came over Dudley's face.
"No, that's another case," answered the stout boatman. "All that I
could see, as they stood and I stood, was, that the one was taller
than the other a good bit, and that the tall one knocked the short one
over the cliff."
The three succeeding witnesses were of the same class and profession
as the first; but they proved nothing more than the finding of the
injured man, his insensible condition when they came up, and his
death, without having spoken, as they carried him to Brandon House.
"I think we must have the evidence of Sir Arthur Adelon," said the
coroner, looking towards one of the servants, several of whom were in
the room. "Pray present my compliments to him, and say that I should
be glad of his presence for a few moments."
Sir Arthur, however, did not appear immediately; and when he entered,
there was a good deal more agitation in his manner than he could have
desired. His first act was to shake hands with Dudley, in a friendly,
even a warm manner; and the coroner, rising, bowed low to one of the
great men of the neighbourhood, apologising for troubling him, as he
called it.
"It is necessary, Sir Arthur," he said, "to make a few inquiries, as I
am given to understand that the unfortunate young nobleman who met
with his death last night in so tragical a manner, has been for some
days an inmate of your house, as well as the gentleman who labours
under suspicion--as to whether you are aware of any circumstance
tending to corroborate the charge--any quarrel, I mean, between the
parties, or anything likely to produce so fatal a result?"
"Of nothing in the world," replied Sir Arthur Adelon, in a frank tone.
"Lord Hadley and my friend, Mr. Dudley, have always appeared, in my
presence, at least, upon the very best terms. What took place
yesterday I am not aware of, as I was out the greater part of the day,
until late in the evening, having heard very unpleasant rumours, which
have proved, alas! too correct, and wishing to ascertain the facts,
and to see what could best be done for the good of the community."
His eye glanced to Dudley's face as he uttered the last somewhat vague
and double-meaning words; but the countenance he looked at remained
perfectly calm and firm, without the slightest perceptible change of
expression.
"Then you have no cause, Sir Arthur," inquired the coroner, "to
suppose Mr. Dudley at all implicated in this transaction?"
"From my own personal knowledge, none in the world," answered the
baronet. "There are always rumours afloat after deeds are done, but if
my deliberate opinion could have any weight, I should say that Mr.
Dudley is perfectly incapable of intentionally injuring any man. That
he would do much to save or serve a fellow-creature, I believe; but
nothing to wrong or aggrieve one."
"High testimony," said the coroner, in a pompous tone. "I am much
obliged, Sir Arthur;" and looking at a slip of paper which he held in
his hand, he pronounced the name of Patrick Ferrers. The butler at
Brandon House immediately stood forward, and without much questioning,
made a deposition somewhat to the following effect:--"I knew the late
Lord Hadley; I have known him since he has been at Brandon House. He
was the same gentleman whose body now lies in the dining-room. He was
here about ten days before he met with his death. I know also the
prisoner, Mr. Dudley, I never saw any quarrel between them till
yesterday, when Mr. Dudley and Lord Hadley came home about the same
time together, and Mr. Dudley insisted on speaking in private with
Lord Hadley. Mr. Dudley seemed a little cross, and they went into this
room together. I went in the mean time to fetch some letters which had
been brought while they were out. When I came back, I saw Lord Hadley
coming out of the library, Seemingly in a great passion. He shook his
fist at Mr. Dudley, and seemed to be using very hard words, which I
did not hear. Mr. Dudley was then a step or two behind him, but he
seemed very angry too, though not so angry as his lordship; and I
could hear every word he said, though perhaps I cannot recollect them
exactly now, but I know that they were something like, 'You had better
take care what you say of me, my lord, for if you treat me
disrespectfully, I will punish you, depend upon it.'"
The coroner looked towards Mr. Dudley, who observed, in a quiet tone,
"The words were not exactly those, but the meaning is given with
sufficient accuracy."
"Go on," said the coroner. "Did you observe anything of a similar
nature during the rest of the day?"
"About an hour after," continued the butler, "Lord Hadley went out
again, Mr. Dudley followed him, and I heard the gamekeeper say----"
"We must have nothing upon hearsay," exclaimed the coroner; "the
gamekeeper, I dare say, can answer for himself. Speak to what is
within your own knowledge."
"When Mr. Dudley came back, I was in the hall. The porter let him in,
but we both remarked that he looked a deal ruffled. At dinner, he and
Lord Hadley seemed very cool and snappish to each other; and
immediately after dinner Mr. Dudley went out, and Lord Hadley went
after him, asking Brown, the head footman, which way the other
gentleman had gone. I heard him myself, so that I can speak to; and
that is the last I saw or heard of either of them, till his lordship's
body was brought in last night, and Mr. Dudley came here this
morning."
"John Brown!" said the coroner, and the head footman stood forward. He
corroborated the greater part of the butler's testimony, and added but
little else, except an expression of his own opinion that the young
lord and Mr. Dudley had been out of sorts with each other, as he
termed it, all the preceding day.
The gamekeeper was then brought forward, and stated, that he was just
walking away from the house, after having been out with Mr. Dudley and
Mr. Adelon during the whole morning, when the former came up to him
with a quick step, asked which way the young nobleman had taken, and
followed him as fast as he could go.
The man and woman at the lodge were then called, and proved that, a
little before eight on the preceding night, they were standing
together at the door of their cottage, when the young peer and Mr.
Dudley passed out of the park. The man said that they were talking
very angrily, and the woman that they were speaking very quick, but
she remembered hearing Mr. Dudley say, "Such conduct is most
reprehensible, my lord, and will receive chastisement sooner or
later." Both she and her husband deposed that the young peer and Mr.
Dudley took their way towards the Downs, and a labourer stated that he
had seen two gentlemen going on in the same direction, one of whom was
tall like the prisoner, and the other somewhat shorter. "They were
then speaking quick and sharp," he said, "and one of them was tossing
his arms about a good deal."
A pause for a moment or two succeeded, and then the coroner raised his
voice, saying, "Is there any one else who can give evidence in this
case? Let it be recollected that it is the bounden duty of all men,
when a crime has been committed, to assist in bringing the criminal to
justice."
"Please your worship," said a tall, raw-boned man, coming forward
towards the table, "I think I can say a word or two, if you would be
kind enough to hear me."
"We are here to listen to every one who can speak to any facts
connected with the death of the unfortunate young nobleman whose body
has been lately viewed by the jury," was the coroner's reply. "Speak
to facts, without entering into hearsay, my good man; and in the first
place, tell us what is your name and occupation?"
"I am a labourer by trade, and my name is Daniel Connor," answered the
witness; "and as to facts, it's just them I've got to speak about, for
I suppose I am the only man, except the boatman, who saw the thing
done. I was just taking a walk quietly upon the Downs, over above St.
Martin's when I saw the young lord--I've seen him many a time before
down at Mr. Clive's farm--come walking along very dully like. I saw
him quite well, though he didn't see me, for he was walking along the
road in the little dell, and I was sitting down above."
"Why, I thought you said you were walking," said the coroner.
"To be sure I was," answered Daniel Connor; "sorrow a thing else. I
was taking a walk and sitting down, your worship, as many a man does,
I believe."
"Was there any one else with Lord Hadley?" asked the coroner.
"That I can't just say," answered Connor. "There was nobody close to
him, or I should have seen them both at once, and there might be
somebody not far off, as indeed there was; but you see, your worship,
I leaned back upon the turf, for I didn't want to be disturbed in my
meditations."
"Ah!" said the coroner. "Go on, my man."
"Well, a minute after--it might be two minutes, perhaps, for I won't
be particular as to that--I heard two men quarrelling, and looking up
to the sky, I saw them clear enough."
"What! in the sky?" said the coroner.
"No, agin it," replied the witness; "for both their feet were upon
the ground at that time, but just at the edge of the cliff, where
there's a bit of a rail. They were hitting each other about, and
being a peaceable man anyhow, having had enough of rows in my own
country--that's Ireland, your worship--I sat quite still, and then the
one gave the other a great knock, and away he went back over the
railing, and so I walked quietly home, and saw no more."
"Be so good as to describe the man who struck the other, and knocked
him over the cliff," said the coroner.
"Why, that's mighty difficult to do," answered Daniel Connor, "seeing
that they were fifty yards off and more, and looked just like two
black shadows on the wall."
"Did you ever see him before?" demanded the crown officer, somewhat
impatiently.
"Maybe I have," answered the witness; "but I should not just like to
say for certain."
"But you had no doubt in the case of Lord Hadley," rejoined the
coroner.
"That was natural like," answered Daniel Connor; "for he came within
ten yards of me, and t'other was a good bit farther off when I saw
him."
"Let me try, Mr. Coroner," said the foreman of the jury. "Was he a
tall man or a short man, witness?"
"Oh! it was a tall man he was," replied Connor; "I dare say an inch
taller than I am, and I'm no bantam."
"Did you ever see that gentleman before?" continued the foreman,
pointing out Dudley.
"I think I have, your honour," answered the witness.
"Was he the man you saw strike Lord Hadley on the cliff?" demanded the
coroner, in a stern tone.
"I shouldn't just like to swear," answered Daniel Connor; "but he's
not unlike him, any how."
For the first time a sense of danger reached Dudley's bosom; and
stepping forward at once, he placed himself directly before the
witness, and gazed sternly in his face. An impression--a feeling,
without any apparent cause, and which he could not account for
himself, took possession of him, that the man was wilfully giving
untrue evidence. But his severe searching look had no effect upon the
mind of Daniel Connor. It was under a more powerful influence; and
though in reality by no means a bad or malicious man, yet, relying
upon the assurances of the priest, he looked upon the matter between
Dudley and himself rather as a game that they were playing than
anything else; and the same shrewd, momentary smile passed over his
countenance which had once crossed it while conversing with the priest
during the preceding night. He gave a glance at the prisoner's face,
and in answer, as it seemed, to his gaze, he said, "Ay--yes, sir, you
are mighty like him, any how; but I should not just like to swear."
"Will you allow me, sir, to ask this man some questions?" inquired
Dudley, addressing the coroner.
"Undoubtedly," replied that officer; "and the jury will be very happy
to hear any explanation you may have to give regarding this affair."
"Now, answer me truly," said Dudley. "What were you doing upon the
Downs at that hour of the night?"
"Just taking a walk, your honour," replied the man.
"And what had you been engaged in all day?" demanded Dudley.
"I had been ploughing all the morning from daylight till dinner-time,"
answered Connor; "and arter that, I had been doing a many little jobs
about the farm."
"And yet after that you went to take a long walk over the Downs," said
Dudley. "Now will you swear that Lord Hadley did not come up the road
you mention, alone."
"No, I won't swear that," replied Connor, "for I did not see. He was
alone, sure enough, when I first set eyes upon him; but you see, your
honour, some one must have been very near him, for a minute or two
arter, some one pitched him over the cliff."
"Was he walking fast or slow?" asked Dudley.
"Mighty slow, considering that it was a cold night," answered the
witness.
"And yet you thought fit to sit down and meditate on that cold night,"
remarked Dudley. "Did you hear any words spoken between the young
nobleman and the man who killed him?"
"Oh, ay! there was plenty of talk," replied Connor, "but I didn't hear
what they said."
"Now, you have said that you knew Lord Hadley at once," continued
Dudley; "it was a dark night, and he was down in a road below you, you
assert; and yet you declare that you cannot be sure of who was the man
who afterwards struck him, though they were then both clear out
against the blue sky."
"I didn't say I wasn't sure," answered the witness, somewhat
maliciously. "I may be sure enough, and yet not like to swear, your
honour."
Dudley asked several other questions, but they were to no purpose, or
only served to confirm the impression already produced. He himself
felt that it was so; and with a slight touch of that eager impatience
which had once been strong in his disposition, before adversity had
tamed it, he exclaimed, turning towards the jury, "I know not,
gentlemen, what is this man's object--perhaps, indeed, I ought not to
assume that he has any object--but all his words are evidently
calculated to give you a false view of the case. As has been sworn by
other persons, I did go out yesterday, immediately after dinner. I was
joined by Lord Hadley. There was some discussion between us as we
walked along, but it was not of so angry character as that of the
morning; and allow me to say, that the dispute between us was entirely
as between tutor and pupil. I found it necessary to reprehend some
part of Lord Hadley's conduct, and he being very nearly of age,
angrily resisted all authority, and refused to listen to my counsel.
As we walked along together last night, although there were occasional
bursts of passion on his part, I thought that my arguments had
produced some effect, and we parted at a spot where the high road
towards Barhampton is traversed by the path leading from Clive Grange
over the downs, and through the brake in the hills to the sea-shore.
He was then calm, though somewhat gloomy; and I walked on nearly to
Barhampton, where I was a witness to a very serious riot. I returned
immediately towards Brandon, and was seized in the avenue by two
constables, who refused to give me any information farther than merely
showing their warrant. I call God to witness that I never saw Lord
Hadley after we parted at the cross-road! This is all I have to say,
and the only explanation of my conduct that can be given."
"Perhaps, sir, you will have the goodness to inform us what it was
that took you to Barhampton at so late an hour," said the coroner.
Sir Arthur Adelon, who had been standing near the table, drew back,
and walked towards the end of the room, as if about to quit it, but
paused amongst the crowd before he reached the door. Dudley remarked
the movement of apprehension; but he was resolved not to betray him on
any account, and he replied, after a moment's pause, "I went on
private business, sir."
"A curious hour to transact business," said the coroner. "Can you not
explain the nature of it, even in general terms?"
"In a certain degree, I have no objection," replied Dudley. "It
related to some papers belonging to my father, and I wished to say a
few words upon the subject to a gentleman whom it was necessary for me
to see that night. I had no means of seeing him at an earlier hour, or
in every respect I should have preferred it."
The coroner paused thoughtfully for a moment or two, and then asked,
"Have you anything to add, sir?"
Dudley signified that he had not, and the room was ordered to be
cleared.
As soon as the coroner was alone with his jury, he addressed them in a
somewhat long and florid speech, being a man rather fond of his own
eloquence. His observations in regard to the general duties of persons
in their situation, may be spared the reader; but after having
discussed that topic for some time, he proceeded to comment upon the
evidence. "It is proved," he said, "that Mr. Dudley and the
unfortunate young nobleman had been upon bad terms during the whole of
that day; that they had quarrelled, and used threatening language to
each other; and that they continued in dispute till the last moment
they were seen together. I do not wish to make the case worse than it
is, gentlemen of the jury, or to say that Mr. Dudley went out with any
evil intentions towards his pupil. There is no animus shown, and it
must be recollected that he went out first, and his lordship followed;
but I do mean to say we have it clearly before us, that they were both
in that state of mind which rendered a quarrel of the most serious
description, even to acts of violence, extremely probable. Then we
trace them together for some way, on the road to the very spot where
the fatal occurrence took place. Even by Mr. Dudley's account, not
many minutes could have elapsed between the time at which he says they
parted, and the time when Lord Hadley met with his death--hardly time
enough for the young nobleman to have met and quarrelled with another
man. Then we have the evidence of the fisherman or boatman, and the
evidence of the labourer, Daniel Connor, each account confirming the
other. The one says that the fatal blow was struck by a tall man, such
as you have seen Mr. Dudley is; the other, that the person who
quarrelled with, and ultimately killed Lord Hadley, was a tall man,
very much like Mr. Dudley, though, from the darkness of the night he
will not absolutely swear to him. Now, gentlemen, this is a very
conclusive train of evidence taken by itself; but let us examine Mr.
Dudley's own statement. He admits all the previous facts: the
quarrelling in the morning; the going out at night; the being followed
by Lord Hadley; their walk together towards the very spot; and their
arrival at a place which, as far as my recollection serves, is only a
few hundred yards from the scene of the tragedy. Mr. Dudley, indeed,
says that he there left Lord Hadley, and walked on towards Barhampton,
upon business of which he will give no distinct account. Doubtless he
might walk to Barhampton, and that he did go somewhere is very clear,
for he did not return to Brandon Park, we are informed, till about
midnight; but it is just as probable as not, that he should wander
about for some time after committing such an act as certainly was
perpetrated by some one. That he did do so is not the slightest
presumption of innocence, but rather, perhaps, the contrary. Then,
again, we have to consider the conduct of Lord Hadley, and to ask
ourselves was it probable that, after parting with Mr. Dudley, he
should go on, in a cold unpleasant night, to stroll upon the downs,
without, as far as we know, any object whatsoever. It is evident that,
when he last went out from this house, he followed his tutor, to speak
with him on the same painful subjects which had led to such severe
quarrels in the morning. When their discussion was at an end, it would
seem much more likely that he should return to Brandon House, where a
pleasant family party was waiting his return. Such would probably have
been his conduct if Mr. Dudley's statements were correct. But does it
not naturally suggest itself to your minds, as much more likely, that
the dispute was carried on vehemently between the two gentlemen; that
the young nobleman took the path over the downs, followed, at some
short distance, by his tutor; that more irritating words passed when
they reached the top of the cliff, and that the fatal blow was struck
which hurried the young nobleman into eternity. It is for you,
gentlemen of the jury, to consider all these facts, and to decide upon
your verdict. If you judge that the hand of Mr. Dudley did really slay
the young nobleman, the manner of whose death is the subject of
inquiry, you will have to choose between two courses. If you believe
Mr. Dudley entertained a premeditated design to kill his pupil--of
which, I confess, I see no trace in the evidence--you will bring in a
verdict of 'Wilful Murder.' If, on the contrary, you think that the
act was committed in a moment of hasty passion--for, remark, the fact
of the blow not having been intended to produce death is no
justification--you will then bring in a verdict of 'Manslaughter;' and
whatever view you take, you will remember that this is only a
preliminary inquiry, and that the person upon whom suspicion falls
will have the opportunity, at an after period, of bringing forward any
evidence he pleases, to prove his innocence."
The jury took very little time to deliberate. They were most of them
sensible men, in a respectable station of life, perhaps a little too
easily bent by the opinions of a superior; but even had not the
coroner's own view of the case been so evident, they probably would
have come to the same decision. After a few words had passed between
them, to ascertain that they were all of one mind, their foreman
returned a verdict of "Manslaughter against Edward Dudley."