Trevethlan Volume II Part 12

"Order, order," was murmured, and the interrupter, who drew the attention of every one in court, sat down. It was a few moments before the excitement occasioned by this incident had subsided. There was a general stir to obtain a second look of the unknown possessor of Trevethlan Castle.

"Morton!" the witness had meantime exclaimed, showing signs of confusion for the first time.

"You do know him, then?" said the counsel, and sat down.

But the question did not seem to be advantageous to the defendant's interest.

"What do you know of Mr. Trevethlan?" Everope's former examiner asked, having heard his exclamation.

"I knew that gentleman slightly in the Temple by the name of Morton, as a student for the bar."

The re-examination was short. Some additional formal evidence was given; and the only other material witness on this side was the coroner, who proved the circ.u.mstances of the supposed murder of Mr. Ashton, and the disappearance of Wyley. With this evidence, the case for the plaintiff, of which we have only reported the portion on which the jury would have eventually to form their judgment, was closed; and the court adjourned for a short period.

CHAPTER XIII.

Ah, Richard, with the eyes of heavy mind, I see thy glory, like a shooting star, Fall to the base earth from the firmament.

Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, Witnessing storms to come, war, and unrest; Thy friends are fled to wait upon thy foes, And crossly to thy good all fortune goes.

Shakspeare.

Randolph Trevethlan never stirred from his seat during the suspension of the proceedings. When they were resumed, his counsel argued at some length, that even if the tale which they had heard were true, the marriage so contracted would be valid, and that therefore the plaintiff had failed in making out his case. The other side were stopped in their reply by the judge, who said, that while the court would listen with patience to any argument intended to save an innocent woman from the effect of a fraudulent marriage, that could not be considered the point in question here; the imputed object being to interfere with the rights of the heir presumptive by securing a family; and that, therefore, without expressing any opinion upon what might be considered an undecided point, he should not stop the case. So Rereworth's leader proceeded to address the jury for the defence.

He began by a skilful and minute a.n.a.lysis of Everope's narrative, in which he exhibited its incredibility in a strong light, and heightened it by a continual reference to the worthlessness of the witness's character as exposed by himself. He pointed out his connection with Michael Sinson, a person in the employment of the claimant's family, and a nephew of the late Mrs. Trevethlan. From him, therefore, Everope could have obtained all the particulars which he pretended to know of his own experience. He would be called before the court, and the jury would judge whether the tale had not been concocted between the two. Sinson had motives of his own for hostility to the family of Trevethlan, which would be heard from his own lips. He did not impute to the claimant any cognizance of the fraud, by which he maintained the claim had been attempted to be established. Departing from this point, he said he should show, by indisputable evidence, that the late Mr. Trevethlan never contemplated the baseness which had been attributed to him, could not possibly have suspected any flaw in his marriage, and always treated Margaret as his lawful wife, and his children as lawfully born; for, first, he strongly desired that his own chaplain would perform the ceremony, as they would hear from that gentleman himself; secondly, if, as suggested by the plaintiff, his object had been to make sure of barring the present claim, he would have caused the marriage to be repeated before the birth of his first child; and thirdly, if he had had any suspicion that his children would not inherit by descent, he would have a.s.suredly provided for them by will. But although his estates belonged to him in fee, he had bequeathed them nothing, dying, as it might be said, intestate; he had always treated Margaret as his wife, and had never expressed the slightest doubt of the perfect formality of his marriage. By his own conduct he had thus defeated the very design which was imputed to him, and his own alleged proceedings would have brought about that result which he was said to have sought to avoid, the succession, namely, of the present claimant. In the face of so much incoherency, was it possible, for one moment, to entertain so incredible a tale as that which had been heard from a witness of so very disreputable a character? If such testimony could prevail, no household would be safe.

Now, he should produce the licence under which the marriage took place; he should--despite the incident which Everope had stated as occurring, and which he had probably learned from Michael Sinson--call before them Maud Ba.s.set, the mother of Margaret, the only known surviving witness of the ceremony, and she would tell them--they had heard her exclamation in court--that it was a good marriage; he should also call several members of the household of Trevethlan Castle, who would swear they always regarded it as such; and he should show that the children had been christened as the lawful offspring of Henry and Margaret Trevethlan; and again he repeated, that if the unsupported and monstrous testimony of a single individual of bad reputation were permitted to countervail so strong a chain of presumption no union could be secure, and any of his hearers would be liable to have his children disinherited and their names stigmatized by any villain who would forswear himself for hire.

Let the jury consider the story they had heard. That a gentleman of high character and station, under circ.u.mstances entirely different from those in Goldsmith's famous story, wis.h.i.+ng to form a marriage which he might either affirm or repudiate subsequently, should dare to apply to a stranger, a clergyman of the church, to a.s.sist him in so nefarious a design,--that this clergyman, far from expressing any indignation, should merely suggest a little difficulty,--that, by a coincidence sufficiently remarkable, this Everope, discarded by his family, living by his wits, should at that very time encounter his old college acquaintance,--that to him Ashton should immediately relate the business, and invite his co-operation,--that this precocious villain should at once accept the mission,--that Mr. Trevethlan should receive him without question or surprise,--that he should perform the impious mockery he had described,--that, needy and profligate, he should keep so valuable a secret for so long a time,--that at length, by another singular coincidence, he should fall in with a dependent of the family to whom it was so important; should tell the story apparently as an excellent joke; should for the first time become aware of its worth, and should sell himself to give the evidence they had heard to-day--Yes: indignation had diverted him from the picture he was drawing to the real motive under which the witness acted.

But let the jurors turn from this view of the subject to the one he should now present to them. Let them see Mr. Trevethlan, when, for reasons entirely beside the question at issue, he had decided on marrying a person of inferior station, applying to his chaplain, as a matter of course, to perform the ceremony. Let them see him, on that gentleman's declining, preferring the same desire to this Mr. Ashton, then resident in the neighbourhood. Let them suppose the ceremony to have been really and duly performed by him, as it appears recorded in the register of baptisms. Let them recollect the disappearance of Ashton, and of Wyley, the witness. Let them see how two children were borne by Mrs. Trevethlan, and duly christened by the chaplain of the castle. Let them then turn to the conduct of her relations. Let them imagine the hopes raised, the desires excited by their great connection.

Let them note one of these relatives permitted to hang about the castle as a sort of companion to the young heir. Let them suppose certain presumption to grow up, and to be suddenly checked by the expulsion of all the race. Let them conceive the consequent exasperation, and heighten it by an unfounded suspicion that the exalted peasant-woman was ill-used. Let them consider such feelings as still rankling when Michael Sinson enters the service of the claimant in this action. Let them think of him as actuated both by hope of reward and desire of revenge, devising this subtile scheme, and seeking only an agent to accomplish it. Let them find him meeting the ruined scoundrel, whom they had heard that day, and he thought they would have little difficulty in unravelling the dark plot, which was now, for the first time, publicly developed against the well-being, the happiness, and the good fame of an old and distinguished and honourable family.

At the close of this address, Michael Sinson was called into the witness-box, and examined by Rereworth.

"You are a relation, I believe, of the late Mrs. Trevethlan?"

"A nephew of the late Margaret Ba.s.set."

The witness was then led on, by further questions, to describe the hopes excited in his family by the marriage now in dispute; the manner in which he was allowed to hang about Trevethlan Castle; the offence which his demeanour gave to its owner, and the expulsion of his relations from their farm. Fencing with his examiner, he at first affected to treat this circ.u.mstance with indifference, but was forced by degrees into a confession of his bitter and rankling mortification.

"And so, sir," Rereworth suddenly asked, "all your family considered this marriage to be perfectly good?"

"It was for their interest," Sinson said, stammering.

"For their interest, sir!" Seymour exclaimed indignantly. "Why, sir, was not Mrs. Trevethlan's good name at stake?"

"My poor relative has been dead for a long time," the witness answered.

"And it is her nephew who comes forward to shame her in her grave! You are now in the service of Mr. Pendarrel, the real claimant in this action?"

"Of Mrs. Pendarrel."

The answer produced a slight t.i.tter in the court.

"What does Mrs. Pendarrel pay you for getting up her case?"

Sinson hesitated for some time, and made no answer.

"Do you hear, sir?" Rereworth continued. "What is to be your hire for slandering your mother's sister?"

The plaintiff's counsel interposed, and protested against his learned friend's so discrediting his own witness.

"I consider," the witness said, having recovered himself, "that my unfortunate relative was deceived in the business. It was no fault of hers."

Rereworth now turned to Michael's connection with Everope. Asked how the acquaintance began; how long it had lasted; how the spendthrift came to communicate the story which he told in court; what Sinson knew of his habits and a.s.sociates; whether he provided him with a maintenance? Then he reverted to the journey into Cornwall, of which Everope had given so frank an explanation; and concluded by again questioning the witness respecting any expectation of reward which he entertained or had held forth as the consequence of success in this action.

"Do you expect any reward at all, sir?" Michael was asked, in cross-examination. "Have any promises been made to you?"

"No," he answered, "I have been only doing my duty, and expect nothing."

"And have you, in fact, held out any expectations to the witness Everope?"

"None whatever."

"Well, sir, is it not matter of notoriety that there was great doubt about this pretended marriage?"

"Certainly. It has been thrown in my teeth a hundred times."

Little profit had this witness brought to the defendant. Maud Ba.s.set, who had been detained out of court since her interruption of the proceedings, was now summoned into the box.

"You are the mother of the late Mrs. Trevethlan, madam?"

"Sure and I am. Of my own Margaret. But I dinna understand it at all."

"You recollect your daughter's marriage, Mrs. Ba.s.set?"

"And a proud day was that for me," the old woman replied, "when the squire asked for her to be his wife. But my Margaret was fit to be a queen. Woe's me that he beguiled me, that she should be married only to be murdered."

"You were present at the marriage, I believe, madam?"

"Of course I was. Where else should her mother be? And he all so cold and stately like, and she weeping and crying so. I might have known what would come of it. I saw it all with my own eyes."

"Do you remember the name of the clergyman, Mrs. Ba.s.set?"

"Ashton it was--Theodore Ashton. The same as I saw it written at the christening of her child. Woe's me! 'twas the last time almost I saw her."