THE TRIAL
“A plot, a plot, a plot, to ruin all.” TENNYSON, _The Princess_.
On the Monday evening, the head boy reported to Dr. Rowlands that the
perpetrator of the offence had not been discovered, but that one boy was
very generally suspected, and on grounds that seemed plausible. “I
admit,” he added, “that from the little I know of him he seems to me a
very unlikely sort of boy to do it.”
“I think,” suggested the Doctor, “that the best way would be for you to
have a regular trial on the subject, and hear the evidence. Do you think
that you can be trusted to carry on the investigation publicly, with
good order and fairness?”
“I think so, sir,” said Avonley.
“Very well. Put up a notice, asking all the school to meet by themselves
in the boarders’ room tomorrow afternoon at three, and see what you can
do among you.”
Avonley did as the Doctor suggested. At first, when the boys assembled,
they seemed inclined to treat the matter as a joke, and were rather
disorderly; but Avonley briefly begged them, if they determined to have
a trial, to see that it was conducted sensibly; and by general consent
he was himself voted into the desk as president. He then got up
and said--
“There must be no sham or nonsense about this affair. Let all the boys
take their seats quietly down the room.”
They did so, and Avonley asked, “Is Williams here?”
Looking round, they discovered he was not. Russell instantly went to the
library to fetch him, and told him what was going on. He took Eric’s arm
kindly as they entered, to show the whole school that he was not ashamed
of him, and Eric deeply felt the delicacy of his goodwill.
“Are you willing to be tried, Williams,” asked Avonley, “on the charge
of having written the insulting paper about Mr. Gordon? Of course we
know very little how these kind of things ought to be conducted, but we
will see that everything done is open and above ground, and try to
manage it properly.”
“There is nothing I should like better,” said Eric.
He had quite recovered his firm, manly bearing. A quiet conversation
with his dearly loved friend and master had assured him in the
confidence of innocence, and though the color on his cheek had through
excitement sunk into two bright red spots, he looked wonderfully noble
and winning as he stood before the boys in the centre of the room. His
appearance caused a little reaction in his favor, and a murmur of
applause followed his answer.
“Good,” said Avonley; “who will prosecute on the part of the school?”
There was a pause. Nobody seemed to covet the office.
“Very well; if no one is willing to prosecute, the charge drops.”
“I will do it,” said Gibson, a Rowlandite, one of the study boys at the
top of the fifth form. He was a clever fellow, and Eric liked the little
he had seen of him.
“Have you any objection, Williams, to the jury being composed of the
sixth form? or are there any names among them which you wish to
challenge?”
“No,” said Eric, glancing round with confidence.
“Well, now, who will defend the accused?”
Another pause, and Upton got up.
“No,” said Eric, at once. “You were inclined to distrust me, Upton, and
I will only be defended by somebody who never doubted my innocence.”
Another pause followed, and then, blushing crimson, Russell got up. “I
am only a Shell-boy,” he said, “but if Eric doesn’t mind trusting his
cause to me, I will defend him, since no other fifth-form fellow stirs.”
“Thank you, Russell, _I wanted_ you to offer, I could wish no better
defender.”
“Will Owen, Duncan, and Montagu help me, if they can?” asked Russell.
“Very willingly,” they all three said, and went to take their seats by
him. They conversed eagerly for a few minutes, and then declared
themselves ready.
“All I have got to do,” said Gibson, rising, “is to bring before the
school the grounds for suspecting Williams, and all the evidence which
makes it probable that he is the offender. Now, first of all, the thing
must have been done between Friday evening and Saturday morning; and
since the school-room door is generally locked soon after school, it was
probably done in the short interval between six and a quarter past. I
shall now examine some witnesses.”
The first boy called upon was Pietrie, who deposed, that on Friday
evening, when he left the room, having been detained a few minutes, the
only boy remaining in it was Williams.
Carter, the school-servant, was then sent for, and deposed, that he had
met Master Williams hastily running out of the room, when he went at a
quarter past six to lock the door.
Examined by Gibson.--“Was any boy in the room when you did lock the
door?”
“No one.”
“Did you meet any one else in the passage?”
“No.”
Cross-examined by Russell.--“Do boys ever get into the room after the
door is locked?”
“Yes.”
“By what means?”
“Through the side windows.”
“That will do.”
Russell here whispered something to Duncan, who at once left the room,
and on returning, after a few minutes’ absence, gave Russell a
significant nod.
Barker was next brought forward, and questioned by Gibson.
“Do you know that Williams is in the habit of using a particular kind of
ink?”
“Yes; it is of a violet color, and has a peculiar smell.”
“Could you recognise anything written with it?”
“Yes.”
Gibson here handed to Barker the paper which had caused so much trouble.
“Is that the kind of ink?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the handwriting on that paper?”
“Yes; it is Williams’ hand.”
“How can you tell?”
“He makes his r’s in a curious way.”
“Turn the paper over. Have you ever seen those kind of wafers before?”
“Yes; Williams has a box of them in his desk.”
“Has any other boy, that you are aware of, wafers like those?”
“No.”
Cross-examined by Duncan.--“_How_ do you know that Williams has wafers
like those?”
“I have seen him use them.”
“For what purpose?”
“To fasten letters.”
“I can’t help remarking that you seem very well acquainted with what he
does. Several of those who know him best, and have seen him oftenest,
never heard of these wafers. May I ask,” he said, “if any one else in
the school will witness to having seen Williams use these wafers?”
No one spoke, and Barker, whose malice seemed to have been changed into
uneasiness, sat down.
Upton was the next witness. Gibson began--“You have seen a good deal of
Williams?”
“Yes,” said Upton smiling.
“Have you ever heard him express any opinion of Mr. Gordon?”
“Often.”
“Of what kind?”
“Dislike and contempt,” said Upton, amidst general laughter.
“Have you ever heard him say anything which implied a desire to injure
him?”
“The other day Mr. Gordon gave him a Georgic as an imposition, and I
heard Williams say that he would like to pay him out.”
This last fact was new to the school, and excited a great sensation.
“When did he say this?”
“On Friday afternoon.”
Upton had given his evidence with great reluctance, although, being
simply desirous that the truth should come out, he concealed nothing
that he knew. He brightened up a little when Russell rose to
cross-examine him.
“Have you ever known Williams to do any mean act?”
“Never.”
“Do you consider him a boy _likely_ to have been guilty on this
occasion?”
“Distinctly the reverse. I am convinced of his innocence.”
The answer was given with vehement emphasis, and Eric felt greatly
relieved by it.
One or two other boys were then called on as witnesses to the great
agitation which Eric had shown during the investigation in the
school-room, and then Gibson, who was a sensible, self-contained fellow,
said, “I have now done my part. I have shown that the accused had a
grudge against Mr. Gordon at the time of the occurrence, and had
threatened to be revenged on him; that he was the last boy in the room
during the time when the offence must have been committed; that the
handwriting is known to resemble his, and that the ink and wafers
employed were such as he, and he only, was known to possess. In addition
to all this, his behavior, when the matter was first publicly noticed,
was exactly such as coincides with the supposition of his guilt. I think
you will all agree in considering these grounds of suspicion very
strong; and leaving them to carry their full weight with you, I close
the case for the prosecution.”
The school listened to Gibson’s quiet formality with a kind of grim and
gloomy satisfaction, and when he had concluded, there were probably few
but Eric’s own immediate friends who were not fully convinced of his
guilt, however sorry they might be to admit so unfavorable an opinion of
a companion whom they all admired.
After a minute or two, Russell rose for the defence, and asked, “Has
Williams any objection to his desk being brought, and any of its
contents put in as evidence?”
“Not the least; there is the key, and you will find it in my place in
school.”
The desk was brought, but it was found to be already unlocked, and
Russell looked at some of the note-paper which it contained. He then
began--“In spite of the evidence adduced, I think I can show that
Williams is not guilty. It is quite true that he dislikes Mr. Gordon,
and would not object to any open way of showing it; it is quite true
that he used the expressions attributed to him, and that the ink and
wafers are such as may be found in his desk, and that the handwriting is
not unlike his. But is it probable that a boy intending to post up an
insult such as this, would do so in a manner, and at a time so likely to
involve him in immediate detection, and certain punishment? At any rate,
he would surely disguise his usual handwriting. Now, I ask any one to
look at this paper, and tell me whether it is not clear, on the
contrary, that these letters were traced slowly and with care, as would
be the case with an elaborate attempt to imitate?” Russell here handed
the paper to the jury, who again narrowly examined it.
“Now the evidence of Pietrie and Carter is of no use, because Carter
himself admitted that boys often enter the room by the window; a fact to
which we shall have to allude again.
“We admit the evidence about the ink and wafers. But it is rather
strange that Barker should know about the wafers, since neither I, nor
any other friend of Williams, often as we have sat by him when writing
letters, have ever observed that he possessed any like them.”
Several boys began to look at Barker, who was sitting very ill at ease
on the corner of a form, in vain trying to appear unconcerned.
“There is another fact which no one yet knows, but which I must mention.
It will explain Williams’ agitation when Dr. Rowlands read out the words
on that paper; and, confident of his innocence, I am indifferent to its
appearing to tell against him. I myself once heard Williams use the very
words written on that paper, and not only heard them, but expostulated
with him strongly for the use of them. I need hardly say how very
unlikely it is, that remembering this, he should thus publicly draw my
suspicions on him, if he meant to insult Mr. Gordon, undiscovered. But,
besides myself, there was another boy who accidentally overheard that
expression. That boy was Barker.
“I have to bring forward a new piece of evidence which at least ought to
go for something. Looking at this half-sheet of note-paper, I see that
the printer’s name on the stamp in the corner is ‘Graves, York.’ Now, I
have just found that there is no paper at all like this in Williams’
desk; all the note-paper it contains is marked ‘Blakes, Ayrton.’
“I might bring many witnesses to prove how very unlike Williams’ general
character a trick of this kind would be. But I am not going to do this.
We think we know the real offender. We have had one trial, and now
demand another. It is our painful duty to prove Williams’ innocence by
proving another’s guilt. That other is a known enemy of mine, and of
Montagu’s, and of Owen’s. We therefore leave the charge of stating the
case against him to Duncan, with whom he has never quarrelled.”
Russell sat down amid general applause; he had performed his task with a
wonderful modesty and self-possession, which filled every one with
admiration, and Eric warmly pressed his hand.
The interest of the school was intensely excited, and Duncan, after a
minute’s pause, starting up, said--“Williams has allowed his desk to be
brought in and examined. Will Barker do the same?”
The real culprit now saw at once that his plot to ruin Eric was
recoiling on himself. He got up, swore and blustered at Russell, Duncan,
and Williams, and at first flatly refused to allow his desk to be
brought. He was, however, forced to yield, and when opened, it was
immediately seen that the note-paper it contained was identical with
that on which the words had been written. At this he affected to be
perfectly unconcerned, and merely protested against what he called the
meanness of trying to fix the charge on him.
“And what have you been doing the whole of the last day or two,” asked
Gibson, quietly, “but endeavoring to fix the charge on another?”
“We have stronger evidence against you,” said Duncan, confronting him
with an undaunted look, before which his insolence quailed. “Russell,
will you call Graham?”
Graham was called, and put on his honor.
“You were in the sick-room on Friday evening?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see any one get into the school-room through the side window?”
“I may as well tell you all about it. I was sitting doing nothing in the
sick-room, when I suddenly saw Barker clamber in to the school-room by
the window, which he left open. I was looking on simply from curiosity,
and saw him search Williams’ desk, from which he took out something, I
could not make out what. He then went to his own place, and wrote for
about ten minutes, after which I observed him go up and stand by the
notice board. When he had done this he got out by the window again,
and ran off.”
“Didn’t this strike you as extraordinary?”
“No; I thought nothing more about it, till some one told me in the
sick-room about this row. I then mentioned privately what I had seen,
and it wasn’t till I saw Duncan, half an hour ago, that I thought it
worth while to make it generally known.”
Duncan turned an enquiring eye to Barker (who sat black and silent), and
then pulled some bits of torn paper from his pocket, put them together,
and called Owen to stand up. Showing him the fragments of paper, he
asked, “Have you ever seen these before?”
“Yes. On Saturday, when the boys left the schoolroom, I stayed behind to
think a little over what had occurred, feeling convinced that Williams
was _not_ guilty, spite of appearances. I was standing by the empty
fire-place, when these bits of paper caught my eye. I picked them up,
and, after a great deal of trouble, fitted them together. They are
covered apparently with failures in an attempt at forgery, viz., first,
‘Gordon is a sur--’ and then a stop, as though the writer were
dissatisfied, and several of the words written over again for practice,
and then a number of r’s made in the way that Williams makes them.”
“There you may stop,” said Barker, stamping fiercely; “I did it all.”
A perfect yell of scorn and execration followed this announcement.
“What! _you_ did it, and caused all this misery, you ineffable
blackguard!” shouted Upton, grasping him with one hand, while he struck
him with the other.
“Stop!” said Avonley; “just see that he doesn’t escape, while we decide
on his punishment.”
It was very soon decided by the sixth form that he should run the
gauntlet of the school. The boys instantly took out their handkerchiefs,
and knotted them tight. They then made a double line down each side of
the corridor, and turned Barker loose. He stood stock-still at one end,
while the fellows nearest him thrashed him unmercifully with the heavy
knots. At last the pain was getting severe, and he moved on, finally
beginning to run. Five times he was forced up and down the line, and
five times did every boy in the line give him a blow, which, if it did
not hurt much, at least spoke of no slight anger and contempt. He was
dogged and unmoved to the last, and then Avonley hauled him into the
presence of Dr. Rowlands. He was put in a secure room by himself, and
the next morning was first flogged and then publicly expelled.
Thenceforth he disappears from the history of Roslyn school.
I need hardly say that neither Eric nor his friends took any part in
this retributive act. They sat together in the boarders’ room till it
was over, engaged in exciting discussion of the recent event. Most
warmly did Eric thank them for their trustfulness. “Thank you,” he said,
“with all my heart, for proving my innocence; but thank you, even more a
great deal, for first believing it.”
Upton was the first to join them, and since he had but wavered for a
moment, he was soon warmly reconciled with Eric. They had hardly shaken
hands when the rest came flocking in. “We have all been unjust,” said
Avonley; “let’s make up for it as well as we can. Three cheers for Eric
Williams!”
They gave, not three, but a dozen, till they were tired; and meanwhile,
every one was pressing round him, telling him how sorry they were for
the false suspicion, and doing all they could to show their regret for
his recent troubles. His genial, boyish heart readily forgave them, and
his eyes were long wet with tears of joy. The delicious sensation of
returning esteem made him almost think it worth while to have under gone
his trial.
Most happily did he spend the remainder of that afternoon, and it was no
small relief to all the Rowlandites in the evening to find themselves
finally rid of Barker, whose fate no one pitied, and whose name no one
mentioned without disgust. He had done more than any other boy to
introduce meanness, quarrelling, and vice, and the very atmosphere of
the rooms seemed healthier in his absence. One boy only forgave him, one
boy only prayed for him, one boy only endeavored to see him for one last
kind word. That boy was Edwin Russell.
After prayers, Mr. Gordon, who had been at Dr. Rowlands’ to dinner,
apologised to Eric amply and frankly for his note, and did and said all
that could be done by an honorable man to repair the injury of an unjust
doubt. Eric felt his generous humility, and from thenceforth, though
they were never friends, he and Mr. Gordon ceased to be enemies.
That night Mr. Rose crowned his happiness by asking him and his
defenders to supper in the library. A most bright and joyous evening
they passed, for they were in the highest spirits; and when the master
bade them “good night,” he kindly detained Eric, and said to him, “Keep
an innocent heart, my boy, and you need never fear trouble. Only think
if you had been guilty, and were now in Barker’s place!”
“O, I _couldn’t_ be guilty, sir,” said Eric, gaily.
“Not of such a fault, perhaps. But,” he added solemnly, “there are many
kinds of temptation, Eric many kinds. And they are easy to fall into.
You will find it no light battle to resist them.”
“Believe me, sir, I will try,” he answered with humility.
“Jehovah-Nissi!” said Mr. Rose. “Let the Lord be your banner, Eric, and
you will win the victory. God bless you.”
And as the boy’s graceful figure disappeared through the door, Mr. Rose
drew his arm-chair to the fire, and sat and meditated long. He was
imagining for Eric a sunny future--a future of splendid usefulness, of
reciprocated love, of brilliant fame.