Dilemmas of Pride Volume III Part 3

While thus Lady Arden proudly strove to have it thought, nay, if possible to think herself, that she had no fears for Alfred; how, but by the absorbing nature of her fears for him was the blunted state of her feelings on all other subjects to be accounted for. The death of Willoughby, had it come alone, with what deep sorrow would it have afflicted her; and how greatly would that sorrow have been aggravated, by but a suspicion that he had committed the awful act of suicide; yet to have that suspicion proved beyond a doubt, was now the only hope of her existence; while the simple fact of Willoughby's death was driven by the exigences of the hour from its natural position in her mind, and viewed as it were in the distance of memory, like a sorrow long gone by, solemnly but calmly. Were Alfred safe, his honour and his precious life rescued from the frightful peril they were in, her heart told her that all grief would be forgotten, and joy unspeakable would be her portion.

CHAPTER VIII.

The night before the trial, Lady Arden, by especial favour and kind connivance, pa.s.sed in the prison of her son. She knelt at the side of the bed, on which she had insisted on his laying himself, and, if possible, sleeping, in order that he might obtain strength and composure for the task which awaited him.

After many last words and repeated affectionate entreaties, that he would try the effect of silence and stillness, at length, with a hand fondly clasped in both his mother's, he did sleep, though but for a short time, as calmly as an infant. Lady Arden, in the position in which she knelt, shaded from his countenance the immediate glare of the lamp which stood on a small table behind her. Sufficient light, however, still rested on his sleeping features to give to her fond gaze all their loveliness. The perfect beauty they always possessed, the more than common share of a mother's love she had ever borne him, the enthusiasm of every feeling naturally exerted by his impending peril, altogether called up such emotions, that she seemed to look on the face of an angel; while fast falling tears unconsciously inundated her cheeks, as memory pourtrayed the infant years of this her darling son;--the smiling babe sleeping in her bosom; the laughing child playing at her feet. Then followed pictures of his boyish sports and gleeful hours, till her heart bled; then traits of docile obedience and dutiful affection; and, as he grew in years, of that gentle, n.o.ble, self-immolating nature, so peculiarly his own. All these were remembered with tender yearnings which no words can describe. A fearful idea next presented itself, that such beings were but lent to earth: they were not destined to sojourn with us; in a moment of agony and terror to those left behind, they were caught up again, and absorbed by that all-perfect spirit of which they were but emanations. Such thoughts gave, for a time, a character of wildness to the fervour of her prayers; confusion of every faculty followed; she became unconscious of the purport of the words she rapidly uttered; and then her lips ceased to move: a silent statue, with hands and eyes uplifted, one solitary thought possessed her being; it was, that in her helplessness she knelt at the foot-stool of Him who had restored to life the widow's son when he was already dead, and had given him back to his mother. Her son was still alive; the mercy that had restored surely could preserve. Alfred smiled in his sleep, and gently pressing the hand which still held his, suddenly opened his eyes with an expression which showed that for a second he knew not where he was.

Short was the respite: in a moment more, the shade of pain which pa.s.sed over his brow, and the look of anxious, kind inquiry which followed, as his eye met that of his mother, proved that consciousness had returned.

Morning was near; and though there were still many lingering hours of suspense to get through, sleep was thought of no more--conversation was renewed--every minute particular again enumerated--Alfred's defence reconsidered.

His language, the expression of his countenance as he spoke, had again the effect of awaking a proud confidence in the mind of Lady Arden, that it was impossible for any one to believe him guilty. As for Alfred himself, his confidence was still based on the firm belief that, on full investigation, what called itself justice, could not so fearfully err as that life should be forfeited on false grounds.

Thus supported, both, as the time approached, instead of sinking, seemed to acquire supernatural strength. To part, when the unavoidable moment came, was indeed a severe pang. But this over, Lady Arden's demeanor, among the numerous friends who flocked around to offer her their countenance, attendance and support on the terrible occasion, was calm, dignified, n.o.ble, almost haughty.

Though, of course, no one in her presence volunteered to p.r.o.nounce, in so many words, a fear or even a doubt respecting the result of Alfred's trial, the expression of many a countenance did so; while also the very excess of almost reverential consideration for himself seemed to infer such a feeling; and she could not forgive any one, however kind and well-meaning, who did not spurn with unequivocal contempt, as the breath of pestilential slander, the thought of an accusation against her son.

Such an accusation, too! and against such a son!

CHAPTER IX.

In consequence of the intense interest naturally excited by the approaching trial, the court-house was, as may be supposed, crowded to excess.

There was a pause, however, at the precise moment we are describing in the public business; for a cause having been just concluded, the judge had absented himself for a few minutes. Persons were in the mean time handing across the green table, stuck at the end of long, slight, white wands, which seemed to be split at the point for the purpose, notes, letters, and folded papers, to the various individuals who sat round, out of reach of communication by any other means; some, indeed, employed the still less ceremonious mode of flinging across the table little folded notes, not larger than b.u.t.terflies, of which a pretty constant flight was thus kept up. The personages round this table we may mention, for the benefit of those not conversant with the inside of a court-house, were princ.i.p.ally barristers in their wigs and gowns. The few eminent ones, who had any thing to do, had clerks seated at their elbows, and all had beside them large green or purple baize or serge bags, purporting to contain papers, but in many instances, suspected of harbouring more sandwiches than briefs. Beside the counsel for the crown, whose business it was to conduct the prosecution of Sir Alfred Arden, sat wedged with difficulty into the limited s.p.a.ce allotted him, and anxiously poring over his doc.u.ments, Mr. Fips. A little above, and immediately behind him, in the lowest row of seats appropriated to spectators, sat Geoffery Arden, with Miss Fips, whose style of dress, if possible, was more extravagantly absurd, and indecorously showy than usual, which, together with the incessant swinging of her hat and feathers, made her a most conspicuous figure. Indeed she and her paraphernalia might be said to act most effectually the part of a flying flag, pointing out to the spectators in general where this group of princ.i.p.al characters were to be found.

It had been weighed by Lady Arden and her many friends, whether her ladys.h.i.+p should await in an adjacent retired room, communicating by a private door with the gallery, or how; or where she had better be placed to be ready to appear with least exertion, when called upon for her evidence. She had herself, however, decided that the suspense of not hearing and knowing what was going on, even at every step, would be more impossible to endure, than any agony however hard to bear, to which being present throughout could subject her. She was therefore already placed in the corner of the gallery, nearest the witness box, but purposely so surrounded by a group of her own most particular friends, as to be effectually screened from general observation. With her ladys.h.i.+p was Mrs. Dorothea, Lady Darlingford, and Madeline, all of whom had been subpoened as witnesses.

The judge now returning into court, took his seat on the bench, with an air of even more than usual solemnity. The prisoner was called to the bar.

"Do not, do not look!" said Mrs. Dorothea, bending across, and interposing herself between Lady Arden and the view of the dock. But Lady Arden had already covered her face, naturally shrinking from the fearful trial of seeing her son enter.

Alfred appeared. He was aware that a great portion of those present must be persons well known to him. He had no reason to shrink from the scrutinizing gaze of any one. With quiet dignity, therefore, on his first entrance, he looked all round the court, and few were found who had callousness to resist his mild, calm, clear eye, the expression of which was rather an appeal to the better feelings of humanity than that angry defiance of his accusers, which his circ.u.mstances might have almost justified; and which, perhaps, even he would have experienced, had not solemn and tender regret for the fact itself of his brother's untimely death, softened and subdued his feelings. Such was the immediate effect, both of his countenance and his n.o.ble bearing in every respect, as far removed from guilty hardness as from guilty fear, that many who had on hearsay condemned now in their hearts acquitted him.

We speak chiefly of the impression made on persons in Sir Alfred's own sphere in life; that, however, which was produced upon a much larger body, the respectable yeomanry of the county, and tradesmen of the town, was in general very different. Among these a doctrine had been artfully promulgated, which though in itself perfectly just, was in this instance, well calculated to prejudice the judgment, namely, that if gentlemen will commit crimes worthy of ignominious punishment it is the duty of those in whose hands the administration of justice is entrusted, to show them that there is not one law for the rich and another for the poor. It is not because a gentleman can get ninety thousand a-year by murdering his brother that he is to be allowed to do so with impunity, when a poor man, who sees his wife and children starving and steals a sheep to feed them, must be hanged!

This popular proposition, in the abstract so perfectly just, Fips had at the very first given out, as a sort of text to preach from, to one or two vulgar, vehement, levelling friends of his own; and from that moment affected himself, as became the attorney who was to conduct the prosecution, the most prudent taciturnity possible.

Possessed, then, with these abstract ideas, and doggedly determined to apply them in the present case, the cla.s.s of persons alluded to saw in the beautiful serenity of our hero's aspect no better feeling than a confidence, which they were determined to show him was ill-founded, that his rank in life was almost a guarantee against his suffering the extremity of the law.

The indictment was now read aloud, and poor Alfred heard himself accused, with awful solemnity, of the wilful murder of his brother, Sir Willoughby Arden, by maliciously and feloniously administering to him a certain portion of a.r.s.enic, in some wine and water. The prisoner, of course, pleaded not guilty; and the counsel for the prosecution, abstaining from opening the case by a speech to the jury, proceeded to call and examine witnesses. The first of these were the servants who had been hastily called into the room by Alfred when Sir Willoughby was dying. They swore to the deceased being insensible, and in convulsions when they entered the room, to his having been apparently in perfect health at and after dinner; to Alfred's having, in his first alarm, called aloud for antidotes against poison, naming a.r.s.enic in particular.

Dr. Harman was next examined. He proved, that at the time he arrived Sir Willoughby was quite dead; that he believed his death to have been occasioned by poison--that poison a.r.s.enic. He then under-went a tedious cross-examination, as to the tests of a.r.s.enic. He had made poisons much his study. He had attended the opening of the body. The state of the stomach denoted the presence of some corrosive stimulant. a.r.s.enic is a corrosive stimulant. He had applied to the contents of the stomach several tests, such as sulphate of copper, ammoniacal sulphate of copper, nitrate of silver; ammoniacal nitrate of silver; and sulphuretted hydrogen gas; the results of all denoted the presence of a.r.s.enic; there was an immense precipitate of a.r.s.enic, quite enough to kill a man. Being asked, had not every test which had been tried for the last century and half been said to be fallacious, he replied, that if this were true of the tests separately, yet, when the results of three were uniform, no chemist could have a doubt, but that he had also had recourse to the infallible test of reduction, by which he had obtained crystals of white a.r.s.enic. Had he not said that a fit might have been attended by similar symptoms? He had. What, then, had confirmed him in his belief, that the deceased had died by the effects of poison? Inward appearances, on the body being opened, and an examination of the contents of the stomach.

Parts of this gentleman's evidence were supported by that of several other medical men.

Some judiciously put questions then drew from the reluctant Doctor the fact of Alfred's attempt to rinse the gla.s.s, in which a sediment of a.r.s.enic was subsequently found, and his having, when the Doctor interfered, made no attempt to explain conduct so extraordinary. On this, a kind of murmur pa.s.sed round the court; almost every face looked shocked, and many shook their heads, as though they had whispered their next neighbour, "He must, I fear, be guilty!"

The conviction was still stronger, and the horror still greater, when Dr. Harman, so evidently an unwilling witness, literally compelled by stern justice to dole out that portion of the sad truth each question extracted from him; when he, with a solemn voice, a cheek pale with emotion, and a moistened eye, described the time and manner, when, as the prisoner was in the act of bending forward, he had distinctly seen glide from within the breast of his waistcoat and fall to the ground, a piece of paper marked poison, and which was found, on being lifted up, to contain among its folds a few remaining grains of a.r.s.enic. He here produced, being called on so to do, the piece of paper described. The packet of a.r.s.enic being missed on the morning after Sir Willoughby's death, from where it had lain on the previous day, was next proved by several servants. That the prisoner knew where it lay was also proved.

The groom then swore to having seen the prisoner coming alone from the saddle-room (a place he was not in the habit of frequenting) with a similar packet in his hand. Next was proved the subsequent finding of a packet of a.r.s.enic by the Coroner, in a locked escritoire of the prisoner's, and of which the prisoner kept the keys about his person.

The packet of a.r.s.enic was now produced in court, and identified on oath by several servants. The piece of paper which Dr. Harman had seen fall from within the waistcoat of the prisoner, was here shown to the Judge, and handed from one to another of the Jury, together with the packet, from the outer covering of which, it was evident to all eyes, that the smaller piece had been torn, apparently as the readiest vehicle which offered, for carrying away a portion of the poison. The reluctance of the prisoner to permit the body of the deceased to be opened, was proved by several medical gentlemen, as well as by other persons his not, in short, yielding this point till compelled so to do by the authority of the Coroner.

The servants of the house, and such persons as had seen Sir Willoughby since his return to Arden were next strictly examined, and cross-examined, respecting his health, spirits, and sanity. All swore without hesitation, that up to the last moment on which each had held communication with him he had been in good health, in excellent spirits, and perfectly sane. The elderly squire, who, it may be remembered, had met the brothers out riding, on the day of the evening on which the death of Sir Willoughby took place, having chanced, when the sudden demise became known, to mention the meeting, together with the nature of the conversation which had pa.s.sed, Mr. Fips in his diligence and zeal had made him out and sent him a subpoena.

This gentleman was next examined, and his evidence proved that Sir Willoughby, a few hours before his death had been in high health and spirits, and had spoken freely of his intended marriage and projected tour. This seemed conclusive. After hearing such evidence from a respectable and disinterested witness, it appeared quite impossible to believe that Sir Willoughby, a few hours subsequent to this conversation, should have sought to put a period to his own existence.

Many persons were questioned as to whether the prisoner had expressed any doubt of the sanity of his brother, or any suspicion of his having taken poison, previous to the time of the accusation of his having administered the poison to his brother, having been brought home to himself on the coroner's inquest; no one had heard him express an opinion of the kind before the time alluded to, except indeed any inference might be drawn of a secret knowledge that poison had been taken or administered, from his having, in the first moments of confusion, called anxiously for antidotes against the effects of a.r.s.enic. The counsel for the prosecution argued, that this told against the prisoner. It proved a guilty knowledge of the fact, that a.r.s.enic had been swallowed. A feeling of remorse seemed to have induced the effort to save his brother's life, even at the risk of exposure; but no sooner was Sir Willoughby dead, than the prisoner makes every effort to conceal that poison had been taken. For the acuteness of this remark, the counsel was indebted to a marginal note annexed to his brief by Mr.

Fips. As a matter of form, persons were next examined as to the amount of the property to which the prisoner, by the death of his brother became sole heir.

When the enormous sum was sworn to, many a one sighed involuntarily to think, from how many anxious cares one year's income of such estates would relieve them.

Lady Arden's evidence being the next required, and every consideration being granted to her ladys.h.i.+p's feelings, the Judge had humanely sent a message round to request that Lady Arden might not be hurried.

A pause therefore ensued, during which were wrought up to the highest pitch, expectation, compa.s.sion, and that strange curiosity incident to human nature, to see how others can endure when suffering is extreme.

CHAPTER X.

At length, in the midst of perfect stillness, without one preparatory sound or movement, Lady Arden stood in the witness box, wrapped in the deep mourning in which the death of her elder son had enveloped her.

The blood ran cold in the veins of all present. A tear startled into almost every eye; while some of those who were themselves mothers, were moved by a sympathy so heart-rending, that unconsciously they groaned aloud.

So pure, so natural, so easily understood are the feelings of the parent, that every cla.s.s could enter into them. Nor did the kindly commiseration of the crowd diminish, when they had leisure to mark the matronly beauty of her countenance; pride and disdain of the insult offered to the hitherto unsullied honour of her son, struggling with agony kindled in her eye, while her cheek was blanched, and her lips parched: and then the strong resemblance her every feature bore to those of her son! her favourite child! the prisoner at the bar: while evidently conscious where he stood, her eye quivered beneath its lid, longing yet dreading to turn upon him. She could no longer resist--she looked down at her son--he looked up at her--their eyes met.

To comfort and encourage her he tried almost to smile: it was rather a radiance from within s.h.i.+ning for a moment through all the n.o.bleness of his countenance, in honour of the dutiful love he bore her; and then a pang pa.s.sed across his brow, that he should be to her a source of suffering. She sank on a chair considerately placed behind her, and for a few seconds hid her face; lest, however, emotion should be construed into fear, and fear into acquiescence in the accusation against her son, she aroused herself and again stood prepared to reply. The judge, from a feeling of respect, took upon himself a considerable part of the duty of putting the necessary questions to her ladys.h.i.+p. He did so in the mildest and most considerate manner, and in a tone of kindly sympathy which did credit to his heart--the counsel of course a.s.sisting, and a.s.sisted himself as. .h.i.therto, by the marginal notes to his brief, supplied by Mr. Fips. These had the effect of drawing from her ladys.h.i.+p the purport of the confidential conversation overheard by Geoffery, which, with the remainder of Lady Arden's evidence, clearly proved the following points; namely--that both brothers had been attached to the same lady--that Alfred had been accepted previously to the arrival of his brother--that subsequently he had been discarded and his brother accepted--that he had felt his disappointment more deeply than he had suffered to appear--that he had ascribed the fickleness of the lady to mercenary motives--and that he was in the habit of animadverting frequently on the unfortunate situation of younger brothers without fortune, and therefore without pretensions.

In reply to another series of questions, she was compelled to confess, she had never apprehended that derangement might at any time be the consequence of the injury Sir Willoughby had in childhood received on his head--that she had never perceived any symptoms of derangement about her eldest son--that Alfred had never mentioned to her any apprehensions of the kind till after the present accusation had been brought against himself--that in his letter, announcing the sudden death of his brother, he had ascribed it to a fit of apoplexy, and made no mention of poison under any circ.u.mstances being the supposed cause, or expressed a suspicion either of insanity or suicide--and lastly, that Sir Willoughby at the time of his demise was in full possession of a large unenc.u.mbered property, and in expectation of being married to the woman of his choice, a lady also possessed of large estates, and who, in company with her mother, he was very shortly to have joined in a tour of pleasure on the continent.

The evidence of Lady Darlingford, Madeline, and Mrs. Dorothea, were taken in succession, and though not so full, went to prove the same points as that of Lady Arden. This closed the prosecution, and the prisoner was now called upon for his defence.

Who shall describe the throb of his mother's heart, when the first sounds from those loved lips broke the stillness of the expectant court.

The tones of that voice were harmony itself; they had ever been music to her ear--what were they now? Oh, how strange is the mingling of agony with the thrill of love!

A momentary convulsion pa.s.sed over the mother's features, followed by a silent flood of tears; yet, with that self-command which dire necessity alone can teach, no sob that might be heard, no sigh escaped her.

Alfred spoke with solemnity of the melancholy impression which had often visited his own mind respecting the possibility of his brother becoming at some time insane; but confessed, that he had never mentioned his fears to any one. He spoke of a strangeness of temper as the foundation of the apprehensions to which he alluded; but confessed, that its ebullitions were confined to private interviews with himself. He spoke of the state of excitement under which Sir Willoughby laboured on his last return to Arden; but confessed, that to all less interested observers than himself, the manner to which he alluded was calculated to appear but the result of his brother being at the time in particularly high spirits. He spoke of a great inequality of humour which had latterly excited his alarm; but confessed, that this inequality had appeared only in their private interviews. At every but, the solemnity of the judge's countenance deepened, and the jury looked at each other with an expression that seemed to say--"That won't do."

Alfred proceeded to state how both the packet of a.r.s.enic, and the torn piece of paper marked poison, had come into his possession, and his reasons for removing and securing the former;--of his having subsequently concealed the latter about his own person, he had he said, from the state of his feelings at the time no recollection.

The judge frowned involuntarily at the vagueness of such a defence.

"People," whispered Mr. Fips to his neighbour, "are not to get off for committing murder, because they have short memories."