THE OLD LAWYER DECLINES TO SURPRISE THE COURT, AND SURPRISES LEECH
The next morning the case was called, and the whole village was astir.
In the little conclave held after the marriage it had been discussed
whether anything should be said about it until after the jury was
impanelled, when it could be sprung on Leech, and, in the surprise thus
occasioned, the jury be forced to give a verdict of acquittal.
Some were for taking this course, and this was Steve’s wish; but old
Mr. Bagby said, No. He had lost one case, he said, by allowing his
client to act on a sentiment, and he would not risk another. Sentiment
was sentiment, but law was law. He looked through his spectacles
significantly at Major Welch. He believed in making every defence
as you came to it. So, as Major Welch was sure he would receive the
telegrams he was expecting from the North, and agreed with Mr. Bagby,
this plan was adopted. It was decided to announce the marriage before
the beginning of the trial, and take the postponement that would almost
inevitably occur.
The secret was well kept, and, up to the last moment before the trial,
there was no idea on Leech’s part of what had taken place. He had put
on a new and longer black coat than usual, and a carefully tied white
cravat; and, with his books and papers clasped to his breast, and his
pale eyes downcast except when he lifted them covertly and cast a swift
glance of conscious triumph around him, he moved about the court-green
busy and noiseless. He was still haggard from his late illness, but
there was an air of triumph even in the flapping of his loose coat and
the line of his thin back.
But, notwithstanding Leech’s ignorance, an idea had got abroad that
something unusual would happen. The lawyers for Captain Allen were
still grave; but they wore a more confident air than they had exhibited
yesterday. Andy Stamper was chirpy and facetious, and had a look of
deeper mystery than he was wont to wear except when events were about
to happen. It was known that Major Welch, who had just returned from
the North, had been to the railway station after midnight, and had
remained there until daybreak; and it was known, further, that Mrs.
Welch and Miss Welch had left the tavern, and were staying at Mrs.
Dockett’s. So there was something in the air. It was rumored that
McRaffle had been sent away by Leech.
When Captain Allen walked across the green from the jail to the
court-house, he wore a look of triumph which cheered the hearts of
his friends. They crowded round him, to speak to him and shake his
hand; and he laughed and chatted with them like a victor, not like a
prisoner. One man called to him: “We came near taking you out of yonder
last night, Captain; and if you just crook your finger, we’ll clean
up the whole gang now. There’s several of the old Company around here
yet.” Steve looked over at him and smiled.
“It’s all right, Michael. Don’t trouble yourself.” And the crowd
pressed after him into the court-house, which was already jammed.
The case was called, and the Court asked the usual question whether
counsel were ready. Leech replied meekly that the Government was ready,
and glanced across at the array of counsel for the prisoner. After a
moment’s hesitation, old Mr. Bagby slowly rose:
“If the Court please!” he said, “we are ready for the defence; but
before entering on the case, there is a statement which I feel—which
we feel—it is proper we should make, as we do not wish to surprise the
Court, or to take any advantage of a state of facts which may cause a
surprise to the other side.”
He turned to Leech, on whose face a look of wonder was beginning to
dawn.
“I believe I see among the list of witnesses summoned for the
prosecution the name of a witness—” (the old lawyer took up the book
containing the list of witnesses, and scanned it as if he had not seen
it before)—“of a young lady—ah—Miss Welch—who, I believe, has
been summoned ah—who I understand has been summoned to prove—ah—to
testify to certain statements alleged to have been made by our client,
which are deemed material.” He looked across at Leech, who was staring
at him in vague wonder. “Am I correct in this, Colonel Leech?” His
voice was never so unctuous and his manner so civil as when he was
preparing a deadly thrust.
“Umph, I don’t know. I believe there is a witness of that name, to
prove some of the prisoner’s confessions. There are a number of
others. We are not dependent on her at all,” said Leech, with insolent
indifference.
“Ah!” drawled the old lawyer. “I was misinformed.” With a bow, he
took his seat. As he did so, he added, slowly, “I understood she was
a material witness—a _very_ material witness. If she is not, of
course——?” He looked benignantly at the jury and shut his lips. He
was apparently relieved. Leech cleared his throat nervously. He saw he
had lost whatever advantage the statement would have given him.
“I did not mean that. I did not mean to say she is not a material
witness.”
The old lawyer turned his eyes on him slowly. “A _very_ material
witness?”
“Oh, well, yes; I suppose you might say so.”
Mr. Bagby rose again.
“Then I will resume my statement. I am informed that this young lady
to whom I have referred is summoned to prove certain statements of
our client, respecting his supposed connection with the secret and
unlawful order for the suppression of which the law, under which this
prosecution is ostensibly made, was framed. I am informed, further,
that she is a very material witness—so material, indeed, that but for
her testimony it is possible this prosecution, in this particular form,
might not have taken place.”
Leech cleared his throat ominously, and Mr. Bagby looked at him
benignly.
“I am inclined to credit this report not only from facts within our
own knowledge, but also because I understand that these conjectured
statements, whatever they were, were made in the course of conversation
of a kind peculiarly confidential, under seal of a friendship unusually
close and intimate; and I cannot believe that the learned and amiable
counsel for the Government would have wished to violate wantonly such a
confidence. I can only think he considered that his duty required it.
And I am glad to say I have his own statement that such was his view of
the case” (he took from his hat a paper and held it in his hand), “in a
letter which he personally wrote to the young lady’s father.
“It is under these circumstances that I feel it is due to the Court,
and may lead to a different disposition of the case, to say to the
Court that the young lady in question is not an eligible witness in
this prosecution.” (He here took from his hat another paper.) “She has
been united in the bonds of matrimony to my client, and is at present
the wife of the accused, Captain Stevenson Allen, and thus is not an
eligible witness for or against him.”
He resumed his seat slowly and sedately, amid the dead silence which
had fallen on the court-room. The next moment the crowd took in the
situation, and the old court-room rang with cheer after cheer. Even the
jury were moved to grin, and exchanged pleased glances and words of
wonder and satisfaction.
During the tumult that went on, Leech’s face was a study. Surprise,
dismay, baffled revenge, rage, fear, craftiness, dissimulation—all
had their place. He looked about him at the shouting assembly, and
gauged all the elements. He took in Captain Thurston’s jolly face,
Major Welch’s look of satisfaction, and the shrewd content of old Mr.
Bagby, as Major Welch handed him a batch of telegrams. He saw the
other lawyers’ faces light up as the telegrams were handed on to them
and were eagerly scanned. He knew the wires had been well worked. He
calculated all the chances. And when the judge, with sharp reprimands
and angry threats, had quelled the noise and restored order, Leech rose.
It was true, he said, that the testimony of the witness mentioned was
material in the aspect of the case as it stood at present, and it was
true that he had summoned Miss Welch as a witness, only under the
strictest sense of duty and at the greatest cost of pain to himself,
as he had already stated to her father. And he was glad that they
at last recognized it. He had not known that the friendship between
the—ah—witness and the prisoner, had been carried so far—indeed, it
seemed that this last degree of intimacy must have been of quite recent
date. Had he known it, the Court would have been spared some trouble
and the Government considerable expense. As it was, while he was not
prepared to say that the Government could not compel the witness to
testify when the disability had arisen under such circumstances (here
he glanced at the judge, and read on his countenance that this view was
untenable; so he added), or could not convict without the witness, his
idea of his duty to the Government was so high that he was unwilling to
risk going to trial under the circumstances, until he had summoned one
or two other witnesses who could prove the same facts; and he should
therefore consent to an adjournment till next day.
Mr. Bagby rose. “You will ask for it,” he said, looking at Leech. “We
are ready to proceed.” He addressed the Court in a few words, and urged
that the case proceed or that the prosecution be dismissed. This Leech
“could not consent to,” and the Court refused it. Then the old lawyer
more firmly insisted that his client be admitted to bail.
Leech was about to rise to resist this also. At that moment, however,
a dispatch was handed him. It was from his friends at the national
capital, and stated that Major Welch had secured an order to admit
Captain Allen to bail. Leech turned the dispatch over carelessly, face
downward, leant back, and spoke aloud to the man who had handed it to
him. “I’ll send an answer. Wait a little.” He rose.
This motion, he said, he should be glad to assent to, and, indeed,
was about to propose himself, as such novel circumstances had arisen;
and he should be glad to do anything that would please his friends,
especially Major Welch, and he hoped he might add his congratulations
to the young couple and his friend Major Welch, if it was not too
late. This was received with bows more or less perfunctory; only old
Mr. Bagby bowed low with mock gratitude, and General Legaie, twirling
his mustache, said something aloud about a “shameless dog.” The bail
was quickly arranged, and Captain Allen walked out amid the cheers of
the crowd. The delight of the multitude about the court-green, among
whom the story had rapidly spread, knew no bounds. There are some
things that strike chords in all hearts, and the happiness of a newly
married couple is one of them. The negroes had responded to it as
quickly as the whites; and when Captain Allen, who, immediately on the
announcement, had been joined by his wife, walked from the court-room,
with her at his side blushing and pale by turns, but with her face full
of joy, the enthusiasm of the crowd knew no bounds. Whites and blacks
crowded up to congratulate him, and to shake his hand and say pleasant
things to his wife.
Through this throng Leech had to push as he made his way from the
court-house, his bundle of papers hugged to his chest. His sallow
cheeks were deadly white, and his face was drawn and white; but the
look of baffled rage in his eyes was not seen, as he kept them turned
to the ground. He saw many whom he had deemed his closest followers
pressing up to be seen among those who congratulated Captain Allen, and
he knew by these weather-cocks that the wind had turned and the game
was lost.