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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75036 ***
+
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+ Transcriber’s Note:
+
+This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
+Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_.
+
+Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
+see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
+the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE WAYS OF THE HOUR.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+ The Theft
+ _The Ways of the Hour_
+]
+
+[Illustration:
+
+ “This bears some resemblance, Mr. Wilmeter, to an interview
+ in a convent. I am the novice, you the excluded friend, who is
+ compelled to pay his visit through a grate.”
+ _Ways of the Hour. Page 115._
+]
+
+
+ THE
+
+ WAYS OF THE HOUR.
+
+
+
+ _A TALE._
+
+
+ BY
+
+ J. FENIMORE COOPER.
+
+
+ ‘Is this the way
+ I must return to native dust?’
+
+
+
+
+ NEW YORK:
+ D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
+ 1892.
+
+
+
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+ Entered, according to the Act of Congress, In the year 1861, by
+ W. A. TOWNSEND AND COMPANY,
+ In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Southern District of
+ New York.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ PREFACE.
+
+ -----------------------
+
+
+The object of this book is to draw the attention of the reader to some
+of the social evils that beset us; more particularly in connection with
+the administration of criminal justice. So long a time has intervened
+since the thought occurred, and so many interruptions have delayed the
+progress of the work, that it is felt the subject has been very
+imperfectly treated; but it is hoped that enough has been done to cause
+a few to reflect on a matter of vital importance; one that to them may
+possess the interest of novelty.
+
+A strange indifference exists as to the composition of the juries. In
+our view, the institution itself, so admirable in a monarchy, is totally
+unsuited to a democracy. The very principle that renders it so safe
+where there is a great central power to resist, renders it unsafe in a
+state of society in which few have sufficient resolution to attempt even
+to resist popular impulses.
+
+A hundred instances might be given in which the juries of this country
+are an evil; one or two of which we will point out. In trials between
+railroad companies and those who dwell along their lines, prejudice is
+usually so strong against the former, that justice for them is nearly
+hopeless. In certain parts of the country, the juries are made the
+instruments of defeating the claims of creditors who dwell at a
+distance, and are believed to have interests opposed to the particular
+community where the debtor resides. This is a most crying evil, and has
+been the source of many and grievous wrongs. Whenever there is a motive
+for creating a simulated public opinion, by the united action of several
+journals, justice is next to hopeless; such combinations rarely, if
+ever, occurring in its behalf. In cases that are connected with the
+workings of political schemes, and not unfrequently in those in which
+political men are parties to the suits, it is often found that the
+general prejudices or partialities of the out-door factions enter the
+jury-box. This is a most serious evil too; for, even when the feeling
+does not produce a direct and flagrant wrong, it is very apt so far to
+temper the right as to deprive it of much of its virtue. In a country
+like this, in which party penetrates to the very bottom of society, the
+extent of this evil can be known only to those who are brought into
+close contact with the ordinary workings of the institution.
+
+In a democracy, proper selections in the material that are necessary to
+render juries safe, become nearly impossible. Then, the tendency is to
+the accumulation of power in bodies of men; and in a state of society
+like our own, the juries get to be much too independent of the opinion
+of the court. It is precisely in that condition of things in which the
+influence and authority of the judge guide the juror, and the
+investigation and substantial power of the juror react on the
+proceedings of the court, that the greatest benefits have been found to
+accrue from this institution. The reverse of this state of things will
+be very likely to produce the greatest amount of evil.
+
+It is certain that the juries are falling into disrepute throughout the
+length and breadth of the land. The difficulty is to find a substitute.
+As they are bodies holding the lives, property and character of every
+member of the community, more or less, in their power, it is not to be
+supposed that the masses will surrender this important means of
+exercising their authority voluntarily, or with good will. Time alone
+can bring reform through the extent of the abuses.
+
+The writer has not the vanity to suppose that any thing contained in
+this book will produce a very serious impression on the popularity of
+the jury. Such is not its design. All that is anticipated is to cause a
+portion of his readers to reflect on the subject; persons who probably
+have never yet given it a moment of thought.
+
+There is a tendency, at the present time, to court change for its own
+sake. This is erroneously termed a love of reform. Something very like a
+revolution is going on in our midst, while there is much reason to
+apprehend that few real grievances are abated; the spurious too
+exclusively occupying the popular mind, to render easy a just
+distinction between them. When an American prates about aristocracy, it
+is pretty safe to set him down as knavish or ignorant. It is purely
+cant; and the declaimers would be puzzled to point to a single element
+of the little understood and much decried institution, the country being
+absolutely without any, unless the enjoyment of the ordinary rights of
+property can be so considered. But the demagogue must have his war-cry
+as well as the Indian; and it is probable he will continue to whoop as
+long as the country contains minds weak enough to furnish him with
+dupes.
+
+COOPERSTOWN, _March 12, 1850_.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ THE WAYS OF THE HOUR.
+
+
+
+
+ -----------------------
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER I.
+
+
+ _Mar._ My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed?
+ _Aum._ Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in.
+ _King Richard II._
+
+In one respect, there is a visible improvement in the goodly town of
+Manhattan, and that is in its architecture. Of its growth, there has
+never been any question, while many have disputed its pretension to
+improvement. A vast expansion of mediocrity, though useful and imposing,
+rarely satisfies either the judgment or the taste; those who possess
+these qualities, requiring a nearer approach to what is excellent, than
+can ever be found beneath the term just mentioned.
+
+A town which is built of red bricks, that are faced with white marble,
+the whole garnished with green blinds, can never have but one outward
+sign—that of tawdry vulgarity. But this radical defect is slowly
+disappearing from the streets of Manhattan; and those who build, are
+getting to understand that architecture, like statuary, will not admit
+of strong contrasts in colours. Horace Walpole tells us of a certain old
+Lord Pembroke, who blackened the eyes of the gods and goddesses in the
+celebrated gallery at Wilton, and prided himself on the achievement, as
+if he had been another Phidias. There have been thousands of those who
+have laboured in the spirit of this Earl of Pembroke in the streets of
+all the American towns; but travelling, hints, books and example, are
+slowly effecting a change; and whole squares may now be seen in which
+the eye rests with satisfaction on blinds, facings and bricks, all
+brought to the same pleasing, sober, architectural tint. We regard this
+as the first step, in advance, that has been made in the right
+direction, so far as the outward aspect of the town is concerned, and
+look forward, with hope, to the day when Manhattan shall have banished
+its rag-fair finery altogether, and the place will become as remarkable
+for the chaste simplicity of its streets, as they have hitherto been for
+their marked want of taste.
+
+With this great town, mottled as it is, in people as well as in hues,
+with its native population collected from all parts of this vast
+republic, and its European representatives amounting to scores of
+thousands, we shall have much to do in the succeeding pages. Our
+researches, however, will be bestowed more on things moral than on
+things physical; and we shall endeavour to carry the reader with us
+through scenes that, we regret to say, are far more characteristic than
+novel.
+
+In one of the cross streets that communicate with Broadway, and below
+Canal, stands a dwelling that is obnoxious to all the charges of bad
+taste to which there has already been allusion, as well as to certain
+others that have not yet been named, at all. A quarter of a century
+since, or within the first twenty years of its own existence, the house
+in question would have been regarded as decidedly patrician, though it
+is now lost amid the thousands of similar abodes that have arisen since
+its own construction. There it stands, with its red bricks periodically
+painted redder; its marble facings, making a livery of red turned up
+with white; its green blinds, its high stoop, its half-buried and low
+basement, and all its neatness and comfort, notwithstanding its flagrant
+architectural sins. Into this building we now propose to enter, at the
+very early hour of eight in the morning.
+
+The principal floor was divided, as usual, between a dining and a
+drawing-room, with large communicating doors. This was the stereotyped
+construction of all Manhattanese dwellings of any pretension, a quarter
+of a century since; and that of Mr. Thomas Dunscomb, the owner and
+occupant of the house in question, had been built in rigid conformity
+with the fashion of its day. ’Squire Dunscomb, as this gentleman was
+termed in all the adjacent country counties, where he was well known as
+a reliable and sound legal adviser; Mr. Thomas Dunscomb, as he was
+styled by various single ladies, who wondered he never married; or Tom
+Dunscomb, as he was familiarly called by a herd of unyoked youths, all
+of whom were turned of sixty, was a capital fellow in each of his many
+characters. As a lawyer, he was as near the top of the bar as a man can
+be, who never had any pretensions to be an orator, and whose longest
+effort seldom exceeded half an hour. Should the plan of placing
+eloquence in hobbles reach our own bar, his habit of condensing, his
+trick of getting _multum in parvo_, may yet bring him to the very
+summit; for he will have an immense advantage over those who, resembling
+a country buck at a town ball, need the whole field to cut their
+flourishes in. As a man of the world, he was well-bred, though a little
+cynical, very agreeable, most especially with the ladies, and quite
+familiar with all the better habits of the best-toned circles of the
+place. As a boon companion, Tom Dunscomb was an immense favourite, being
+particularly warm-hearted, and always ready for any extra eating or
+drinking. In addition to these leading qualities, Dunscomb was known to
+be rich, having inherited a very tolerable estate, as well as having
+added much to his means, by a large and lucrative practice. If to these
+circumstances we add that of a very prepossessing personal appearance,
+in which age was very green, the reader has all that is necessary for an
+introduction to one of our principal characters.
+
+Though a bachelor, Mr. Dunscomb did not live alone. He had a nephew and
+a niece in his family, the orphan children of a sister who had now been
+dead many years. They bore the name of Wilmeter, which, in the family
+parlance, was almost always pronounced Wilmington. It was Jack
+Wilmington, and Sally Wilmington, at school, at home, and with all their
+intimates; though Mr. John Wilmeter and Miss Sarah Wilmeter were often
+spoken of in their little out-door world; it being rather an affectation
+of the times to prove, in this manner, that one retains some knowledge
+of the spelling-book. We shall write the name as it is written by the
+parties themselves, forewarning the reader that if he desire to
+pronounce it by the same family standard, he must take the unauthorized
+spelling as a guide. We own ourselves to a strong predilection for old
+familiar sounds, as well as old familiar faces.
+
+At half-past 8, A. M., of a fine morning, late in May, when the roses
+were beginning to show their tints amid the verdure of the leaves, in
+Mr. Dunscomb’s yard, the three individuals just mentioned were at the
+breakfast-table of what it is the fashion of New York to term a
+dining-room. The windows were open, and a soft and fragrant air filled
+the apartment. We have said that Mr. Dunscomb was affluent, and he chose
+to enjoy his means, not à la Manhattan, in idle competition with the
+_nouveaux riches_, but in a more quiet and rational way. His father had
+occupied lots, ‘running through,’ as it is termed; building his house on
+one street and his stables on the other; leaving himself a space in the
+rear of the former, that was prodigious for a town so squeezed into
+parallelograms of twenty-five feet by a hundred. This open space was of
+the usual breadth, but it actually measured a hundred and fifty feet in
+length, an area that would have almost justified its being termed a
+‘park,’ in the nomenclature of the town. This yard Sarah had caused to
+be well garnished with shrubbery, and, for its dimensions, it was really
+a sort of oasis, in that wilderness of bricks.
+
+The family was not alone that morning. A certain Michael Millington was
+a guest of Jack’s, and seemingly quite at home in the little circle. The
+business of eating and drinking was pretty well through with, though
+each of the four cups had its remains of tea or coffee, and Sarah sat
+stirring hers idly, while her soft eyes were turned with interest on the
+countenances of the two young men. The last had a sheet of writing-paper
+lying between them, and their heads were close together, as both studied
+that which was written on it in pencil. As for Mr. Dunscomb, himself, he
+was fairly surrounded by documents of one sort and another. Two or three
+of the morning papers, glanced at but not read, lay opened on the floor;
+on each side of his plate was a brief, or some lease or release; while a
+copy of the new and much talked of code was in his hand. As we say in
+our American English, Mr. Dunscomb was ‘emphatically’ a common-law
+lawyer; and, as our transatlantic brethren would remark in their
+sometime cockney dialect, he was not at all ‘agreeable’ to this great
+innovation on ‘the perfection of human reason.’ He muttered occasionally
+as he read, and now and then he laid down the book, and seemed to muse.
+All this, however, was quite lost on Sarah, whose soft blue eyes still
+rested on the interested countenances of the two young men. At length
+Jack seized the paper, and wrote a line or two hurriedly, with his
+pencil.
+
+“There, Mike,” he said, in a tone of self-gratulation, “I think _that_
+will do!”
+
+“It has one merit of a good toast,” answered the friend, a little
+doubtingly; “it is sententious.”
+
+“As all toasts ought to be. If we are to have this dinner, and the
+speeches, and all the usual publications afterwards, I choose that we
+should appear with some little credit. Pray, sir,” raising his eyes to
+his uncle, and his voice to correspond, “what do you think of it, now?”
+
+“Just as I always have, Jack. It will never do at all. Justice would
+halt miserably under such a system of practice. Some of the forms of
+pleadings are infernal, if pleadings they can be called at all. I detest
+even the names they give their proceedings—complaints and answers!”
+
+“They are certainly not as formidable to the ear,” returned Jack, a
+little saucily, “as rebutters and sur-rebutters. But I was not thinking
+of the code, sir; I was asking your opinion of my new toast.”
+
+“Even a fee could not extract an opinion, unless I heard it read.”
+
+“Well, sir, here it is: ‘The constitution of the United States; the
+palladium of our civil and religious liberties,’ Now, I do not think I
+can much better that, uncle Tom!”
+
+“I’m very sorry to hear you say so, Jack.”
+
+“Why so, sir? I’m sure it is good American sentiment; and what is more,
+it has a flavour of the old English principles that you so much admire,
+about it, too. Why do you dislike it, sir?”
+
+“For several reasons—it would be common-place, which a toast should
+never be, were it true; but there happens not to be a word of truth in
+your sentiment, sonorous as it may sound in your ears.”
+
+“Not true! Does not the constitution guaranty to the citizen religious
+liberty?”
+
+“Not a bit of it.”
+
+“You amaze me, sir! Why, here, just listen to its language, if you
+please.”
+
+Hereupon Jack opened a book, and read the clause on which he relied to
+confute one of the ablest constitutional lawyers and clearest heads in
+America. Not that Mr. Dunscomb was what is called an “expounder,” great
+or small; but he never made a mistake on the subject in hand, and had
+often caused the best of the “expounders” to retrace their steps. He was
+an original thinker, but of the safest and most useful sort; one who
+distinguished between the _institutions_ of England and America, while
+he submitted to the fair application of minor principles that are so
+common to both. As for his nephew, he knew no more of the great
+instrument he held in his hand, than he had gleaned from ill-digested
+newspaper remarks, vapid speeches in Congress, and the erroneous notions
+that float about the country, coming from “nobody knows whom,” and
+leading literally to nothing. The ignorance that prevails on such
+subjects is really astounding, when one remembers the great number of
+battles that are annually fought over this much-neglected compact.
+
+“Ay, here is the clause—just please to hear it, sir,” continued
+Jack.—“‘Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of
+religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the
+freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably
+to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of
+grievances.’ There, I think that will go far towards justifying the
+whole toast, Mike.”
+
+This was said a little triumphantly, and not a little confidently. The
+only answer Mr. Dunscomb condescended to make, was an expressive “Umph!”
+As for Michael Millington, he was a little timid about expressing an
+opinion, and that for two reasons; he had often experienced Mr.
+Dunscomb’s superior wisdom, and he knew that Sarah heard all that
+passed.
+
+“I wish your uncle would lay aside that code for a minute, Jack, and let
+us know what he thinks of our authorities,” said Michael, in an under
+tone.
+
+“Come, Uncle Tom,” cried the more hardy nephew—“come out of your
+reserve, and face the constitution of your country. Even Sarah can see
+that, for once, _we_ are right, and that my toast is of proof.”
+
+“It is a very good proof-_sheet_, Jack, not only of your own mind, but
+of half the minds in the country. Ranker nonsense cannot be uttered,
+however, than to say that the Constitution of the United States is the
+palladium of anything in which civil or religious liberty is concerned.”
+
+“You do not dispute the fidelity of my quotation, sir?”
+
+“By no means. The clause you read is a very useless exhibition of
+certain facts that existed just as distinctly before it was framed, as
+they do to-day. Congress had no power to make an established religion,
+or abridge the freedom of speech, or that of the press, or the right of
+the people to petition, before that amendment was introduced, and
+consequently the clause itself is supererogatory. You take nothing by
+your motion, Jack.”
+
+“I do not understand you, sir. To me, it seems that I have the best of
+it.”
+
+“Congress has no power but what has been conceded to it directly, or by
+necessary connection. Now, there happens to be nothing said about
+granting any such authority to Congress, and consequently the
+prohibition is not necessary. But, admitting that Congress did really
+possess the power to establish a religion previously to the adoption of
+this amendment, the constitution would not prove a palladium to
+religious liberty, unless it prohibited everybody else from meddling
+with the opinions of the citizen. Any state of this Union that pleases,
+may establish a religion, and compel its citizens to support it.”
+
+“Why, sir, our own state constitution has a provision similar to this,
+to prevent it.”
+
+“Very true; but our own state constitution can be altered in this
+behalf, without asking permission of any one but our own people. I think
+that even Sarah will understand that the United States is no palladium
+of religious liberty, if it cannot prevent a state from establishing
+Mohamedanism, as soon as a few forms can be complied with.”
+
+Sarah coloured, glanced timidly at Michael Millington, but made no
+reply. She did not understand much of what she had just heard, though
+rather an intelligent girl, but had hoped that Jack and his friend were
+nearer right than was likely to turn out to be the case. Jack, himself,
+being a young limb of the law comprehended what his uncle meant, and had
+the grace to colour, too, at the manner in which he had manifested his
+ignorance of the great national compact. With a view to relieve himself
+from his dilemma, he cried, with a ready dexterity,—
+
+“Well, since this won’t do, I must try the jury. ‘The trial by jury, the
+palladium of our liberties.’ How do you like that, sir?”
+
+“Worse than the other, boy. God protect the country that has no better
+shield against wrong, than that which a jury can hold before it.”
+
+Jack looked at Michael, and Michael looked at Jack; while Sarah looked
+at both in turn.
+
+“You surely will not deny, sir, that the trial by jury is one of the
+most precious of the gifts received from our ancestors?” said the first,
+a little categorically, Sarah brightening up at this question, as he
+fancied that her brother had now got on solid ground.
+
+“Your question cannot be answered in a breath, Jack,” returned the
+uncle. “The trial by jury _was_ undoubtedly a most precious boon
+bestowed on a people among whom there existed an hereditary ruling
+power, on the abuses of which it was often a most salutary check.”
+
+“Well, sir, is it not the same check here; assuring to the citizens
+independent justice?”
+
+“Who compose the ruling power in America, Jack?”
+
+“The people, to be sure, sir.”
+
+“And who the jurors?”
+
+“The people, too, I suppose,” answered the nephew, hesitating a little
+before he replied.
+
+“Well, let us suppose a citizen has a conflict of rights with the
+public, which is the government, who will compose the tribunal that is
+to decide the question?”
+
+“A jury, to be sure, sir. The trial by jury is guarantied by the
+constitution, to us all.”
+
+“Ay,” said Mr. Dunscomb, smiling, “much as are our religious and
+political liberties. But according to your own admission, this is very
+much like making one of the parties a judge in his own case. A. insists
+that he has a right to certain lands, for instance, which the public
+claims for itself. In such a case, part of the public compose the
+tribunal.”
+
+“But is it not true, Mr. Dunscomb,” put in Millington, “that the popular
+prejudice is usually against government, in all cases with private
+citizens?”
+
+Sarah’s face looked brighter now than ever, for she felt sure that Mike,
+as her brother familiarly called his friend, had asked a most apposite
+question.
+
+“Certainly; you are right as to particular sets of cases, but wrong as
+to others. In a commercial town like this, the feeling is against
+government in all cases connected with the collection of the revenue, I
+admit; and you will see that the fact makes against the trial by jury in
+another form, since a judge ought to be strictly impartial; above all
+prejudice whatever.”
+
+“But, uncle, a judge and a jury are surely very different things,” cried
+Sarah, secretly impelled to come to Michael’s rescue, though she scarce
+knew anything of the merits of the subject.
+
+“Quite right, my dear,” the uncle answered, nodding his head kindly,
+casting a glance at his niece that caused her to blush under the
+consciousness of being fully understood in her motives, if not in her
+remark. “Most profoundly right; a judge and a juror ought to be very
+different things. What I most complain of is the fact that the jurors
+are fast becoming judges. Nay, by George, they are getting to be
+legislators, making the law as well as interpreting it. How often does
+it happen, now-a-days, that the court tell the jury that such is the
+law, and the jury comes in with a verdict which tells the court that
+such is _not_ the law? This is an every-day occurrence, in the actual
+state of public opinion.”
+
+“But the court will order a new trial, if the verdict is against law and
+evidence,” said Michael, determined that Sarah should be sustained.
+
+“Ay, and another jury will be quite likely to sustain the old one.
+No—no—the trial by jury is no more a palladium of our liberties, than
+the Constitution of the United States.”
+
+“Who, or what is, then, sir?” demanded Jack.
+
+“God! Yes, the Deity, in his Divine Providence; if anything is to save
+us. It may not be his pleasure to let us perish, for it would seem that
+some great plan for the advancement of civilization is going on, and it
+may be a part of it to make us important agents. All things regarded, I
+am much inclined to believe such is the fact. But, did the result depend
+on us, miserable instruments in the Almighty hands as we are, woeful
+would be the end!”
+
+“You do not look at things _couleur de rose_, Uncle Tom,” Sarah
+smilingly observed.
+
+“Because I am not a young lady of twenty, who is well satisfied with
+herself and her advantages. There is but one character for which I have
+a greater contempt than that of a senseless grumbler, who regards all
+things _à tort et à travers_, and who cries, there is nothing good in
+the world.”
+
+“And what is the exception, sir?”
+
+“The man who is puffed up with conceit, and fancies all around him
+perfection, when so much of it is the reverse; who ever shouts
+‘liberty,’ in the midst of the direst oppression.”
+
+“But direst oppression is certainly no term to be applied to anything in
+New York!”
+
+“You think not? What would you say to a state of society in which the
+law is available to one class of citizens only, in the way of
+compulsion, and not at all, in the way of protection?”
+
+“I do not understand you, sir; here, it is our boast that all are
+protected, alike.”
+
+“Ay, so far as _boasting_ goes, we are beyond reproach. But what are the
+facts? Here is a man that owes money. The law is appealed to, to compel
+payment. Verdict is rendered, and execution issued. The sheriff enters
+his house, and sells his very furniture, to extort the amount of the
+debt from him.”
+
+“That is his misfortune, sir. Such things must happen to all debtors who
+cannot, or will not, pay.”
+
+“If this were true, I should have nothing to say. Imagine this very
+debtor to be also a creditor; to have debts due to him, of many times
+the sums that he owes, but which the law will _not_ aid him in
+collecting. For him, the law is all oppression—no protection.”
+
+“But, surely, Uncle Tom, nothing of the sort exists here!”
+
+“Surely, Miss Sarah Wilmeter, such things _do_ exist here in practice,
+whatever may be the theory on the subject; what is more, they exist
+under the influence of facts that are directly connected with the
+working of the institutions. My case is not supposititious, at all, but
+real. Several landlords have quite recently felt all the rigours of the
+law as debtors, when it was a dead letter to them, in their character of
+creditors. This has actually happened, and that more than once; and it
+might happen a hundred times, were the landlords more in debt. In the
+latter case, it would be an every-day occurrence.”
+
+‘What, sir,’ exclaimed Michael Millington; ‘the law enforce, when it
+will not protect?’
+
+“That it does, young man, in many interests that I could point out to
+you. But here is as flagrant a case of unmitigated tyranny as can be
+cited against any country in Christendom. A citizen is sold out of house
+and home, under process of law, for debt; and when he asks for the use
+of the same process of law to collect his undeniable dues, it is, in
+effect, denied him. And this among the people who boast that their
+independence is derived from a spirit that would not be taxed! A people
+who are hourly shouting hosannas in honour of their justice!”
+
+‘It cannot be, Uncle Tom, that this is done, in terms,’ cried the
+astounded nephew.
+
+“If, by terms, you mean professions of justice, and liberty, and equal
+rights, they are fair enough; in all those particulars we are
+irreproachable. As ‘_professors_’ no people can talk more volubly or
+nearer to the point—I allude only to facts.”
+
+“But these facts may be explained—qualified—are not as flagrant as they
+seem under your statement?”
+
+“In what manner?”
+
+“Why, sir, this is but a _temporary_ evil, perhaps.”
+
+“It has lasted, not days, nor weeks, nor months, but years. What is
+more, it is an evil that has not occurred in a corner, where it might be
+overlooked; but it exists within ten miles of your capital, in plain
+sight of your legislators, and owes its impunity solely to their
+profound deference to votes. In a word, it is a part of the political
+system under which we live; and that far more so than any disposition to
+tyranny that might happen to manifest itself in an individual king.”
+
+“Do not the tenants who refuse to pay, fancy that their landlords have
+no right to their estates, and does not the whole difficulty arise from
+misapprehension?” asked Michael, a little timidly.
+
+“What would that have to do with the service of process, if it were
+true? When a sheriff’s officer comes among these men, they take his
+authority from him, and send him away empty. Rights are to be determined
+only by the law, since they are derived from the law; and he who meets
+the law at the threshold, and denies it entrance, can never seriously
+pretend that he resists because the other party has no claims. No, no,
+young gentleman—this is all a fetch. The evil is of years’ standing; it
+is of the character of the direst oppression, and of oppression of the
+worst sort, that of many oppressing a few; cases in which the sufferer
+is cut off from sympathy, as you can see by the apathy of the community,
+which is singing hosannas to its own perfection, while this great wrong
+is committed under its very nose. Had a landlord oppressed his tenants,
+their clamour would have made itself heard throughout the land. The
+worst feature in the case, is that which connects the whole thing so
+very obviously with the ordinary working of the institutions. If it were
+merely human covetousness struggling against the institutions, the last
+might prove the strongest; but it is cupidity, of the basest and most
+transparent nature, _using_ the institutions themselves to effect its
+purpose.”
+
+“I am surprised that something was not done by the last convention to
+meet the evil!” said Jack, who was much struck with the enormity of the
+wrong, placed before his eyes in its simplest form, as it had been by
+his direct-minded and clear-headed kinsman.
+
+“That is because you do not know what a convention has got to be. Its
+object is to push principles into impracticable extremes, under the
+silly pretension of progress, and not to abate evils. I made a
+suggestion myself, to certain members of that convention, which, in my
+poor judgment, would have effectually cured this disease; but no member
+had the courage to propose it. Doubtless, it would have been useless had
+it been otherwise.”
+
+“It was worth the trial, if such were likely to be its result. What was
+your plan, sir?”
+
+“Simply to disfranchise any district in which the law could not be
+enforced by means of combinations of its people. On application to the
+highest court of the state, an order might be granted that no polls
+should be held in one, or more, towns, or counties, in which
+combinations existed of a force sufficient to prevent the laws from
+being put in force. Nothing could be more just than to say that men who
+will not obey the law shall not have a voice in making it, and to me it
+really seems that some such provision would be the best possible
+expedient to check this growing evil. It would be choking the enemy with
+his own food.”
+
+“Why was it not done, sir?”
+
+“Simply because our sages were speculating on votes, and not on
+principles. They will talk to you like so many books touching the vices
+of all foreign systems, but are ready to die in defence of the
+perfection of their own.”
+
+“Why was it necessary to make a new constitution, the other day,” asked
+Sarah, innocently, “if the old one was so very excellent?”
+
+“Sure enough—the answer might puzzle wiser heads than yours, child.
+Perfection requires a great deal of tinkering, in this country. We
+scarcely adopt one plan that shall secure everybody’s rights and
+liberties, than another is broached, to secure some newly-discovered
+rights and liberties. With the dire example before them, of the manner
+in which the elective franchise is abused, in this anti-rent movement,
+the sages of the land have just given to the mass the election of
+judges; as beautiful a scheme for making the bench coalesce with the
+jury-box as human ingenuity could invent!”
+
+As all present knew that Mr. Dunscomb was bitterly opposed to the new
+constitution, no one was surprised at this last assertion. It did create
+wonder, however, in the minds of all three of the ingenuous young
+persons, when the fact—an undeniable and most crushing one it is, too,
+so far as any high pretension to true liberty is concerned—was plainly
+laid before them, that citizens were to be found in New York _against_
+whom the law was rigidly enforced, while it was powerless in their
+behalf. We have never known this aspect of the case presented to any
+mind, that it did not evidently produce a deep impression, _for the
+moment_; but, alas! “what is everybody’s business is nobody’s business,”
+and few care for the violation of a principle when the wrong does not
+affect themselves. These young folk were, like all around them,
+unconscious even that they dwelt in a community in which so atrocious a
+wrong was daily done, and, for the moment, were startled when the truth
+was placed before their eyes. The young men, near friends, and, by
+certain signs, likely to be even more closely united, were much addicted
+to speculating on the course of events, as they conceived them to be
+tending, in other countries. Michael Millington, in particular, was a
+good deal of a general politician, having delivered several orations, in
+which he had laid some stress on the greater happiness of the people of
+this much favoured land, over those of all other countries, and
+especially on the subject of equal rights. He was too young, yet, to
+have learned the wholesome truth, that equality of rights, in practice,
+exists nowhere; the ingenuity and selfishness of man finding the means
+to pervert to narrow purposes, the most cautious laws that have ever
+been adopted in furtherance of a principle that would seem to be so
+just. Nor did he know that the Bible contains all the wisdom and
+justice, transmitted as divine precepts, that are necessary to secure to
+every man all that it is desirable to possess here below.
+
+The conversation was terminated by the entrance of a fourth colloquist,
+in the person of Edward McBrain, M. D., who was not only the family
+physician, but the bosom friend of the lawyer. The two liked each other
+on the principle of loving their opposites. One was a bachelor, the
+other was about to marry his third wife; one was a little of a cynic,
+the other much of a philanthropist; one distrustful of human nature, the
+other too confiding; one cautious to excess, the other absolutely
+impetuous, whenever anything strongly interested his feelings. They were
+alike in being Manhattanese by birth, somewhat a novelty in a New
+Yorker; in being equally graduates of Columbia, and classmates; in a
+real love of their fellow-creatures; in goodness of heart, and in
+integrity. Had either been wanting in these last great essentials, the
+other could not have endured him.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER II.
+
+ O change!—stupendous change!
+ There lies the soulless clod;
+ The sun eternal breaks—
+ The new immortal wakes—
+ Wakes with his God.
+ _Mrs. Southey._
+
+
+As Dr. McBrain entered the room, the two young men and Sarah, after
+saluting him like very familiar acquaintances, passed out into what the
+niece called her “garden.” Here she immediately set her scissors at work
+in clipping roses, violets, and other early flowers, to make bouquets
+for her companions. That of Michael was much the largest and most
+tasteful; but this her brother did not remark, as he was in a brown
+study, reflecting on the singularity of the circumstance that the
+Constitution of the United States should not be the “palladium of his
+political and religious liberties.” Jack saw, for the first time in his
+life, that a true knowledge of the constitution was not to be found
+floating about in society, and that “there was more in the nature of the
+great national compact than was dreamt of in his philosophy.”
+
+“Well, Ned,” said the lawyer, holding out his hand kindly but not rising
+from his chair, “what has brought you here so early? Has old Martha
+spoilt your tea?”
+
+“Not at all; I have paid this visit, as it might be, professionally.”
+
+“Professionally! I never was better in my life; and set you down as a
+false prophet, or no doctor, if you like that better, for the gout has
+not even given a premonitory hint, this spring; and I hope, now I have
+given up Sauterne altogether, and take but four glasses of Madeira at
+dinner——”
+
+“Two, too many.”
+
+“I’ll engage to drink nothing but sherry, Ned, if you’ll consent to
+four, and that without any of those forbidding looks.”
+
+“Agreed; sherry has less acidity, and consequently less gout, than
+Madeira. But my business here this morning, though professional, does
+not relate to my craft, but to your own.”
+
+“To the law? Now I take another look at you, I do see trouble in your
+physiognomy; am I not to draw the marriage settlements, after all?”
+
+“There are to be none. The new law gives a woman the entire control of
+all her property, they tell me, and I suppose she will not expect the
+control of mine.”
+
+“Umph! Yes, she ought to be satisfied with things as they are, for she
+will remain mistress of all her cups and saucers, even,—ay, and of her
+houses and lands, in the bargain. Hang me, if I would ever marry, when
+the contract is so one-sided.”
+
+“You never did, when the contract was t’other-sided. For my part, Tom,
+I’m disposed to leave a woman mistress of her own. The experiment is
+worth the trial, if it be only to see the use she will make of her
+money.”
+
+“You are always experimenting among the women, and are about to try a
+third wife. Thank Heaven, I’ve got on sixty years, quite comfortably,
+without even one.”
+
+“You have only half lived your life. No old bachelor—meaning a man after
+forty—knows anything of real happiness. It is necessary to be married,
+in order to be truly happy.”
+
+“I wonder you did not add, ‘two or three times.’ But you may make this
+new contract with greater confidence than either of the others. I
+suppose you have seen this new divorce project that is, or has been,
+before the legislature?”
+
+“Divorce! I trust no such foolish law will pass. This calling marriage a
+‘contract,’ too, is what I never liked. It is something far more than a
+‘contract,’ in my view of the matter.”
+
+“Still, that is what the law considers it to be. Get out of this new
+scrape, Ned, if you can with any honour, and remain an independent
+freeman for the rest of your days. I dare say the widow could soon find
+some other amorous youth to place her affections on. It matters not much
+whom a woman loves, provided she love. Of this, I’m certain, from seeing
+the sort of animals so many _do_ love.”
+
+“Nonsense; a bachelor talking of love, or matrimony, usually makes a
+zany of himself. It is _terra incognita_ to you, my boy, and the less
+you say about it, the better. You are the only human being, Tom, I ever
+met with, who has not, some time or other, been in love. I really
+believe you never knew what the passion is”
+
+“I fell in love, early in life, with a certain my lord Coke, and have
+remained true to my first attachment. Besides, I saw I had an intimate
+friend who would do all the marrying that was necessary for two, or even
+for three; so I determined, from the first, to remain single. A man has
+only to be firm, and he may set Cupid at defiance. It is not so with
+women, I do believe; it is part of their nature to love, else would no
+woman admire you, at your time of life.”
+
+“I don’t know that—I am by no means sure of that. Each time I had the
+misfortune to become a widower, I was just as determined to pass the
+remainder of my days in reflecting on the worth of her I had lost, as
+you can be to remain a bachelor; but somehow or other, I don’t pretend
+to account for it, not a year passed before I have found inducements to
+enter into new engagements. It is a blessed thing, is matrimony, and I
+am resolved not to continue single an hour longer than is necessary.”
+
+Dunscomb laughed out, at the earnest manner in which his friend spoke,
+though conversations, like this we have been relating, were of frequent
+occurrence between them.
+
+“The same old sixpence, Ned! A Benedict as a boy, a Benedict as a man,
+and a Benedict as a dotard——”
+
+“Dotard! My good fellow, let me tell you——”
+
+“Poh! I don’t desire to hear it. But as you came on business connected
+with the law, and that business is not a marriage-settlement, what is
+it? Does old Kingsborough maintain his right to the Harlem lot?”
+
+“No, he has given the claim up, at last. My business, Tom, is of a very
+different nature. What are we coming to, and what is to be the end of it
+all!”
+
+As the doctor looked far more than he expressed, Dunscomb was struck
+with his manner. The Siamese twins scarce understand each other’s
+impulses and wishes better than these two men comprehended each other’s
+feelings; and Tom saw at once that Ned was now very much in earnest.
+
+“Coming to?” repeated Dunscomb. “Do you mean the new code, or the
+‘Woman-hold-the-Purse Law,’ as I call it? I don’t believe you look far
+enough ahead to foresee all the damnable consequences of an elective
+judiciary.”
+
+“It is not that—this, or that—I do not mean codes, constitutions, or
+pin-money. What is the _country_ coming to, Tom Dunscomb—that is the
+question, I ask.”
+
+“Well, and has the country nothing to do with constitutions, codes, and
+elective judges? I can tell you, Master Ned McBrain, M. D., that if the
+patient is to be saved at all, it must be by means of the judiciary, and
+I do not like the advice that has just been called in.”
+
+“You are a croaker. They tell me the new judges are reasonably good.”
+
+“‘Reasonably’ is an expressive word. The new judges are _old_ judges, in
+part, and in so much they do pretty well, by chance. Some of the new
+judges are excellent—but one of the very best men on the whole bench was
+run against one of the worst men who could have been put in his place.
+At the next heat I fear the bad fellow will get the track. If you do not
+mean what I have mentioned, what do you mean?”
+
+“I mean the increase of crime—the murders, arsons, robberies, and other
+abominations that seem to take root among us, like so many exotics
+transplanted to a genial soil.”
+
+“‘Exotics’ and ‘genial’ be hanged! Men are alike everywhere. No one but
+a fool ever supposed that a republic is to stand, or fall, by its
+virtue.”
+
+“Yet, the common opinion is that such must be the final test of our
+institutions.”
+
+“Jack has just been talking nonsense on this subject, and now _you_ must
+come to aid him. But, what has your business with me, this morning, to
+do with the general depreciation in morals?”
+
+“A great deal, as you will allow, when you come to hear my story.”
+
+Dr. McBrain then proceeded forthwith to deliver himself of the matter
+which weighed so heavily on his mind. He was the owner of a small place
+in an adjoining county, where it was his custom to pass as much time,
+during the pleasant months, as a very extensive practice in town would
+allow. This was not much, it is true, though the worthy physician so
+contrived matters, that his visits to Timbully, as the place was called,
+if not long, were tolerably numerous. A kind-hearted, as well as a
+reasonably-affluent man, he never denied his professional services to
+his country neighbours, who eagerly asked his advice whenever there was
+need of it. This portion of the doctor’s practice flourished on two
+accounts,—one being his known skill, and the other his known generosity.
+In a word, Dr. McBrain never received any compensation for his advice,
+from any in the immediate neighbourhood of his country residence. This
+rendered him exceedingly popular; and he might have been sent to Albany,
+but for a little cold water that was thrown on the project by a shrewd
+patriot, who suggested that while the physician was attending to affairs
+of state, he could not be administering to the ailings of his Timbully
+neighbours. This may have checked the doctor’s advancement, but it did
+not impair his popularity.
+
+Now, it happened that the bridegroom-expectant had been out to Timbully,
+a distance of less than fifteen miles from his house in Bleecker street,
+with a view to order matters for the reception of the bride, it being
+the intention of the couple that were soon to be united to pass a few
+days there, immediately after the ceremony was performed. It was while
+at his place, attending to this most important duty, that an express
+came from the county town, requiring his presence before the coroner,
+where he was expected to give his evidence as a medical man. It seems
+that a house had been burned, and its owners, an aged couple, had been
+burnt in it. The remains of the bodies had been found, and an inquest
+was about to be held on them. This was pretty much all that the
+messenger could tell, though he rather thought that it was suspected the
+house had been set on fire, and the old people, consequently, murdered.
+
+As a matter of course, Dr. McBrain obeyed the summons. A county town, in
+America, is often little more than a hamlet, though in New York they are
+usually places of some greater pretensions. The state has now near a
+dozen incorporated cities, with their mayors and aldermen, and with one
+exception, we believe these are all county towns. Then come the
+incorporated villages, in which New York is fast getting to be rich,
+places containing from one to six or seven thousand souls, and which, as
+a rule, are steadily growing into respectable provincial towns. The
+largest of these usually contain “the county buildings,” as it is the
+custom to express it. But, in the older counties, immediately around the
+great commercial capital of the entire republic, these large villages do
+not always exist; or when they do exist, are not sufficiently central to
+meet the transcendental justice of democratic equality—a quality that is
+sometimes of as exacting pretension, as of real imbecility; as witness
+the remarks of Mr Dunscomb, in our opening chapter.
+
+The county buildings of —— happen to stand in a small village, or what
+is considered a small village, in the lower part of the state. As the
+events of this tale are so recent, and the localities so familiar to
+many persons, we choose to call this village “Biberry,” and the county
+“Dukes.” Such was once the name of a New York county, though the
+appellation has been dropped, and this not from any particular distaste
+for the strawberry leaves; “Kings,” “Queens,” and “Duchess” having been
+wisely retained—wisely, as names should be as rarely changed as public
+convenience will allow.
+
+Dr. McBrain found the village of Biberry in a high state of excitement;
+one, indeed, of so intense a nature as to be far from favourable to the
+judicial enquiry that was then going on in the court-house. The old
+couple who were the sufferers in this affair had been much respected by
+all who knew them; he as a common-place, well-meaning man, of no
+particular capacity, and she as a managing, discreet, pious woman, whose
+greatest failing was a neatness that was carried somewhat too near to
+ferocity. Nevertheless, Mrs. Goodwin was, generally, even more respected
+than her husband, for she had the most mind, transacted most of the
+business of the family, and was habitually kind and attentive to every
+one who entered her dwelling; provided, always, that they wiped their
+feet on her mats, of which it was necessary to pass no less than six,
+before the little parlour was reached, and did not spit on her carpet,
+or did not want any of her money. This popularity added greatly to the
+excitement; men, and women also, commonly feeling a stronger desire to
+investigate wrongs done to those they esteem, than to investigate wrongs
+done to those concerning whom they are indifferent.
+
+Doctor McBrain found the charred remains of this unfortunate couple laid
+on a table in the court-house, the coroner in attendance, and a jury
+empanelled. Much of the evidence concerning the discovery of the fire
+had been gone through with, and was of a very simple character. Some one
+who was stirring earlier than common had seen the house in a bright
+blaze, had given the alarm, and had preceded the crowd from the village,
+on the road to the burning dwelling. The Goodwins had resided in a neat,
+retired cottage, at the distance of near two miles from Biberry, though
+in sight from the village; and by the time the first man from the latter
+reached the spot, the roof had fallen in, and the materials were mostly
+consumed. A dozen, or more, of the nearest neighbours were collected
+around the ruins, and some articles of household furniture had been
+saved; but, on the whole, it was regarded as one of the most sudden and
+destructive fires ever known in that part of the country. When the
+engine arrived from the village, it played briskly on the fire, and was
+the means of soon reducing all within the outer walls, which were of
+stone, to a pile of blackened and smouldering wood. It was owing to this
+circumstance that any portion of the remains of the late owners of the
+house had been found, as was done in the manner thus described, in his
+testimony, by Peter Bacon, the person who had first given the alarm in
+Biberry.
+
+“As soon as ever I seed it was Peter Goodwin’s house that made the
+light,” continued this intelligent witness, in the course of his
+examination,—“I guv’ the alarm, and started off on the run, to see what
+I could do. By the time I got to the top of Brudler’s Hill, I was fairly
+out of breath, I can tell you, Mr. Coroner and Gentlemen of the Jury,
+and so I was obliged to pull up a bit. This guv’ the fire a so much
+better sweep, and when I reached the spot, there was little chance for
+doing much good. We got out a chest of drawers, and the young woman who
+boarded with the Goodwins was helped down out of the window, and most of
+her clothes, I b’lieve, was saved, so far as I know.”
+
+“Stop,” interrupted the coroner; “there was a young woman in the house,
+you say.”
+
+“Yes; what I call a young woman, or a gal like; though other some calls
+her a young woman. Waal, she was got out; and her clothes was got out;
+but nobody could get out the old folks. As soon as the ingyne come up we
+turned on the water, and that put out the fire about the quickest. Arter
+that we went to diggin’, and soon found what folks call the remains,
+though to my notion there is little enough on ’em that is left.”
+
+“You dug out the remains,” said the coroner, writing; “in what state did
+you find them?”
+
+“In what I call a pretty poor state; much as you see ’em there, on the
+table.”
+
+“What has become of the young _lady_ you have mentioned?” enquired the
+coroner, who, as a public functionary, deemed it prudent to put all of
+the sex into the same general category.
+
+“I can’t tell you, ’squire; I never see’d her arter she was got out of
+the window.”
+
+“Do you mean that she was the hired-girl of the family,—or had the old
+lady no help?”
+
+“I kinder think she was a boarder, like; one that paid her keepin’,”
+answered the witness, who was not a person to draw very nice
+distinctions, as the reader will have no difficulty in conceiving, from
+his dialect. “It seems to me I heer’n tell of another help in the
+Goodwin family—a sorter Jarman, or Irish lady.”
+
+“Was any such woman seen about the house this morning, when the ruins
+were searched?”
+
+“Not as _I_’ner. We turned over the brands and sticks, until we come
+across the old folks; then everybody seemed to think the work was pretty
+much done.”
+
+“In what state, or situation, were these remains found?”
+
+“Burnt to a crisp, just as you see ’em, ’squire, as I said afore; a
+pretty poor state for human beings to be in.”
+
+“But where were they lying, and were they near each other?”
+
+“Close together. Their heads, if a body can call them black lookin’
+skulls heads, at all, almost touched, if they didn’t quite touch, each
+other; their feet lay further apart.”
+
+“Do you think you could place the skeletons in the same manner, as
+respects each other, as they were when you first saw them? But let me
+first enquire, if any other person is present, who saw these remains
+before they had been removed?”
+
+Several men, and one or two women, who were in attendance to be
+examined, now came forward, and stated that they had seen the remains in
+the condition in which they had been originally found. Selecting the
+most intelligent of the party, after questioning them all round, the
+coroner desired that the skeletons might be laid, as near as might be,
+in the same relative positions as those in which they had been found.
+There was a difference of opinion among the witnesses, as to several of
+the minor particulars, though all admitted that the bodies, or what
+remained of them, had been found quite close together; their heads
+touching, and their feet some little distance apart. In this manner
+then, were the skeletons now disposed; the arrangement being completed
+just as Dr. McBrain entered the court-room. The coroner immediately
+directed the witnesses to stand aside, while the physician made an
+examination of the crisped bones.
+
+“This looks like foul play!” exclaimed the doctor, almost as soon as his
+examination commenced. “The skulls of both these persons have been
+fractured; and, if this be anything near the positions in which the
+skeletons were found, as it would seem, by the same blow.”
+
+He then pointed out to the coroner and jury, a small fracture in the
+frontal bone of each skull, and so nearly in a line as to render his
+conjecture highly probable. This discovery gave an entirely new
+colouring to the whole occurrence, and every one present began to
+speculate on the probability of arson and murder being connected with
+the unfortunate affair. The Goodwins were known to have lived at their
+ease, and the good woman, in particular, had the reputation of being a
+little miserly. As everything like order vanished temporarily from the
+court-room, and tongues were going in all directions, many things were
+related that were really of a suspicious character, especially by the
+women. The coroner adjourned the investigation for the convenience of
+irregular conversation, in order to obtain useful clues to the
+succeeding enquiries.
+
+“You say that old Mrs. Goodwin had a good deal of specie?” enquired that
+functionary of a certain Mrs. Pope, a widow woman who had been free with
+her communications, and who very well might know more than the rest of
+the neighbours, from a very active propensity she had ever manifested,
+to look into the affairs of all around her. “Did I understand you, that
+you had seen this money yourself.”
+
+“Yes, sir; often and often. She kept it in a stocking of the old
+gentleman’s, that was nothing but darns; so darny, like, that nobody
+could wear it. Miss Goodwin wasn’t a woman to put away anything that was
+of use. A clusser body wasn’t to be found, anywhere near Biberry.”
+
+“And some of this money was gold, I think I heard you say. A stocking
+pretty well filled with gold and silver.”
+
+“The foot was cramming full, when I saw it, and that wasn’t three months
+since. I can’t say there was any great matter in the leg. Yes, there was
+gold in it, too. She showed me the stocking the last time I saw it, on
+purpose to ask me what might be the valie of a piece of gold that was
+almost as big as half a dollar.”
+
+“Should you know that piece of gold, were you to see it, again?”
+
+“That I should. I didn’t know its name, or its valie, for I never seed
+so big a piece afore, but I told Miss Goodwin I thought it must be ra’al
+Californy. Them’s about now, they tell me, and I hope poor folks will
+come in for their share. Old as I am—that is, not so very old
+neither—but such as I am, I never had a piece of gold in my life.”
+
+“You cannot tell, then, the name of this particular coin?”
+
+“I couldn’t; if I was to have it for the telling, I couldn’t. It wasn’t
+a five dollar piece; that I know, for the old lady had a good many of
+_them_, and this was much larger, and yellower, too; better gold, I
+conclude.”
+
+The coroner was accustomed to garrulous, sight-seeing females, and knew
+how to humour them.
+
+“Where did Mrs. Goodwin keep her specie?” he enquired. “If you saw her
+put the stocking away, you must know its usual place of deposit.”
+
+“In her chest of drawers,” answered the woman eagerly. “That very chest
+of drawers which was got out of the house, as sound as the day it went
+into it, and has been brought down into the village for safe keeping.”
+
+All this was so, and measures were taken to push the investigation
+further, and in that direction. Three or four young men, willing
+volunteers in such a cause, brought the bureau into the court-room, and
+the coroner directed that each of the drawers should be publicly opened,
+in the presence of the jurors. The widow was first sworn, however, and
+testified regularly to the matter of the stocking, the money, and the
+place of usual deposit.
+
+“Ah! you’ll not find it there,” observed Mrs. Pope, as the village
+cabinet-maker applied a key, the wards of which happened to fit those of
+the locks in question. “She kept her money in the lowest draw of all.
+I’ve seen her take the stocking out, first and last, at least a dozen
+times.”
+
+The lower draw was opened, accordingly. It contained female apparel, and
+a goodly store of such articles as were suited to the wants of a
+respectable woman in the fourth or fifth of the gradations into which
+all society so naturally, and unavoidably, divides itself. But there was
+no stocking full of darns, no silver, no gold. Mrs. Pope’s busy and
+nimble fingers were thrust hastily into an inner corner of the drawer,
+and a silk dress was unceremoniously opened, that having been the
+precise receptacle of the treasure as she had seen it last bestowed.
+
+“It’s gone!” exclaimed the woman. “Somebody must have taken it!”
+
+A great deal was now thought to be established. The broken skulls, and
+the missing money, went near to establish a case of murder and robbery,
+in addition to the high crime of arson. Men, who had worn solemn and
+grave countenances all that morning, now looked excited and earnest. The
+desire for a requiting justice was general and active, and the dead
+became doubly dear, by means of their wrongs.
+
+All this time Dr. McBrain had been attending, exclusively, to the part
+of the subject that most referred to his own profession. Of the
+fractures in the two skulls, he was well assured, though the appearance
+of the remains was such as almost to baffle investigation. Of another
+important fact he was less certain. While all he heard prepared him to
+meet with the skeletons of a man and his wife, so far as he could judge,
+in the imperfect state in which they were laid before him, the bones
+were those of two females.
+
+“Did you know this Mr. Goodwin, Mr. Coroner?” enquired the physician,
+breaking into the more regular examination with very little ceremony;
+“or was he well known to any here?”
+
+The coroner had no very accurate knowledge of the deceased, though every
+one of the jurors had been well acquainted with him. Several had known
+him all their lives.
+
+“Was he a man of ordinary size?” asked the doctor.
+
+“Very small. Not taller than his wife, who might be set down as quite a
+tall old lady.”
+
+It often happens in Europe, especially in England, that the man and his
+wife are so nearly of a height as to leave very little sensible
+difference in their statures; but it is a rare occurrence in this
+country. In America, the female is usually delicate, and of a
+comparatively small frame, while the average height of man is something
+beyond that of the European standard. It was a little out of the common
+way, therefore, to meet with a couple so nearly of a size, as these
+remains would make Goodwin and his wife to have been.
+
+“These skeletons are very nearly of the same length,” resumed the
+doctor, after measuring them for the fifth time. “The man could not have
+been much, if any, taller than his wife.”
+
+“He was not,” answered a juror. “Old Peter Goodwin could not have been
+more than five feet five, and Dorothy was all of that, I should think.
+When they came to meeting together, they looked much of a muchness.”
+
+Now, there is nothing on which a prudent and regular physician is more
+cautious than in committing himself on unknown and uncertain ground. He
+has his theories, and his standard of opinions, usually well settled in
+his mind, and he is ever on the alert to protect and bolster them;
+seldom making any admission that may contravene either. He is apt to
+denounce the water cure, however surprising may have been its effects;
+and there is commonly but one of the “opathies” to which he is in the
+least disposed to defer, and that is the particular “opathy” on which he
+has moulded his practice. As for Dr. McBrain, he belonged strictly to
+the alapathic school, and might be termed almost an ultra in his
+adherence to its laws, while the number of the new schools that were
+springing up around him, taught him caution, as well as great prudence,
+in the expression of his opinions. Give him a patient, and he went to
+work boldly, and with the decision and nerve of a physician accustomed
+to practise in an exaggerated climate; but place him before the public,
+as a theoretical man, and he was timid and wary. His friend Dunscomb had
+observed this peculiarity, thirty years before the commencement of our
+tale, and had quite recently told him, “You are bold in the only thing
+in which I am timid, Ned, and that is in making up to the women. If Mrs.
+Updyke were a newfangled theory, now, instead of an old-fashioned widow,
+as she is, hang me if I think you would have ever had the spirit to
+propose.” This peculiarity of temperament, and, perhaps, we might add of
+character, rendered Dr. McBrain, now, very averse to saying, in the face
+of so much probability, and the statements of so many witnesses, that
+the mutilated and charred skeletons that lay on the court-house table
+were those of two females, and not those of a man and his wife. It was
+certainly possible he might be mistaken; for the conflagration had made
+sad work of these poor emblems of mortality; but science has a clear
+eye, and the doctor was a skilful and practised anatomist. In his own
+mind, there were very few doubts on the subject.
+
+As soon as the thoughtful physician found time to turn his attention on
+the countenances of those who composed the crowd in the court-room, he
+observed that nearly all eyes were bent on the person of one particular
+female, who sat apart, and was seemingly labouring under a shock of some
+sort or other, that materially affected her nerves. McBrain saw, at a
+glance, that this person belonged to a class every way superior to that
+of even the highest of those who pressed around the table. The face was
+concealed in a handkerchief, but the form was not only youthful but
+highly attractive. Small, delicate hands and feet could be seen; such
+hands and feet as we are all accustomed to see in an American girl, who
+has been delicately brought up. Her dress was simple, and of studied
+modesty; but there was an air about _that_, which a little surprised the
+kind-hearted individual, who was now so closely observing her.
+
+The doctor had little difficulty in learning from those near him that
+this “young woman,” so all in the crowd styled _her_, though it was
+their practice to term most girls, however humble their condition,
+“ladies,” had been residing with the Goodwins for a few weeks, in the
+character of a boarder, as some asserted, while others affirmed it was
+as a _friend_. At all events, there was a mystery about her; and most of
+the girls of Biberry had called her proud, because she did not join in
+their frivolities, flirtations and visits. It was true, no one had ever
+thought of discharging the duties of social life by calling on _her_, or
+in making the advances usual to well-bred people; but this makes little
+difference where there is a secret consciousness of inferiority, and of
+an inferiority that is felt, while it is denied. Such things are of
+every-day occurrence, in country-life in particular, while American
+town-life is far from being exempt from the weakness. In older
+countries, the laws of society are better respected.
+
+It was now plain that the blight of suspicion had fallen on this
+unknown, and seemingly friendless girl. If the fire had been
+communicated intentionally, who so likely to be guilty as she? if the
+money was gone, who had so many means of securing it as herself? These
+were questions that passed from one to another, until distrust gathered
+so much head, that the coroner deemed it expedient to adjourn the
+inquest, while the proof might be collected, and offered in proper form.
+
+Dr. McBrain was, by nature, kind-hearted; then he could not easily get
+over that stubborn scientific fact, of both the skeletons having
+belonged to females. It is true that, admitting this to be the case, it
+threw very little light on the matter, and in no degree lessened any
+grounds of suspicion that might properly rest on the “young woman”; but
+it separated him from the throng, and placed his mind in a sort of
+middle condition, in which he fancied it might be prudent, as well as
+charitable, to doubt. Perceiving that the crowd was dispersing, though
+not without much animated discussion in under tones, and that the
+subject of all this conversation still remained in her solitary corner,
+apparently unconscious of what was going on, the worthy doctor
+approached the immovable figure, and spoke.
+
+“You have come here as a witness, I presume,” he said, in a gentle tone;
+“if so, your attendance just now will no longer be necessary, the
+coroner having adjourned the inquest until to-morrow afternoon.”
+
+At the first sound of his voice, the solitary female removed a fine
+cambric handkerchief from her face, and permitted her new companion to
+look upon it. We shall say nothing, here, touching that countenance or
+any other personal peculiarity, as a sufficiently minute description
+will be given in the next chapter, through the communications made by
+Dr. McBrain to Dunscomb. Thanking her informant for his information, and
+exchanging a few brief sentences on the melancholy business which had
+brought both there, the young woman arose, made a slight but very
+graceful inclination of her body, and withdrew.
+
+Dr. McBrain’s purpose was made up on the spot. He saw very plainly that
+a fierce current of suspicion was setting against this pleasing, and, as
+it seemed to him, friendless young creature; and he determined at once
+to hasten back to town, and get his friend to go out to Biberry, without
+a moment’s delay, that he might appear there that very afternoon in the
+character of counsel to the helpless.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER III.
+
+ “I am informed thoroughly of the cause.
+ Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?”
+ _Merchant of Venice._
+
+
+Such was the substance of the communication that Doctor McBrain now made
+to his friend, Tom Dunscomb. The latter had listened with an interest he
+did not care to betray, and when the other was done he gaily cried—
+
+“I’ll tell the widow Updyke of you, Ned!”
+
+“She knows the whole story already, and is very anxious lest you should
+have left town, to go to the Rockland circuit, where she has been told
+you have an important case to try.”
+
+“The cause goes over on account of the opposite counsel’s being in the
+court of appeals. Ah’s me! I have no pleasure in managing a cause since
+this Code of Procedure has innovated on all our comfortable and
+venerable modes of doing business. I believe I shall close up my
+affairs, and retire, as soon as I can bring all my old cases to a
+termination.”
+
+“If you _can_ bring those old cases to a termination, you will be the
+first lawyer who ever did.”
+
+“Yes, it is true, Ned,” answered Dunscomb, coolly taking a pinch of
+snuff, “you doctors _have_ the advantage of us, in this behalf; _your
+cases_ certainly do not last for ever.”
+
+“Enough of this, Tom—you will go to Biberry, I take it for granted?”
+
+“You have forgotten the fee. Under the new code, compensation is a
+matter of previous agreement.”
+
+“You shall have a pleasant excursion, over good roads, in the month of
+May, in an easy carriage, and drawn by a pair of as spirited horses as
+ever trotted on the Third Avenue.”
+
+“The animals you have just purchased in honour of Mrs. Updyke that
+is—Mrs. McBrain that is to be—” touching tho bell, and adding to the
+very respectable black who immediately answered the summons, “Tell
+Master Jack and Miss Sarah I wish to see them. So, Ned, you have let the
+widow know all about it, and she does not pout or look distrustful—that
+is a good symptom, at least.”
+
+“I would not marry a jealous woman, if I never had a wife!”
+
+“Then you will never marry at all. Why, Dr. McBrain, it is in the nature
+of woman to be distrustful—to be jealous—to fancy things that are merely
+figments of the brain.”
+
+“You know nothing about them, and would be wisest to be silent—but here
+are the young people already, to ask your pleasure.”
+
+“Sarah, my dear,” resumed the uncle in a kind and affectionate tone of
+voice, one that the old bachelor almost universally held towards that
+particular relative, “I must give you a little trouble. Go into my room,
+child, and put up, in my smallest travelling bag, a clean shirt, a
+handkerchief or two, three or four collars, and a change all round, for
+a short expedition into the country.”
+
+“Country! Do you quit us to-day, sir?”
+
+“Within an hour, at latest,” looking at his watch. “If we leave the door
+at ten, we can reach Biberry before the inquest reassembles. You told
+those capital beasts of yours, Ned, to come here?”
+
+“I told Stephen to give them a hint to that effect. You may rely on
+their punctuality.”
+
+“Jack, you had better be of our party. I go on some legal business of
+importance, and it may be well for you to go along, in order to pick up
+an idea, or two.”
+
+“And why not Michael also, sir? He has as much need of ideas as I have
+myself.”
+
+A pretty general laugh succeeded, though Sarah, who was just quitting
+the room, did not join in it. She rather looked grave, as well as a
+little anxiously towards the last-named neophyte of the law.
+
+“Shall we want any books, sir?” demanded the nephew.
+
+“Why, yes—we will take the Code of Procedure. One can no more move
+without _that_, just now, than he can travel in some countries without a
+passport. Yes, put up the code, Jack, and we’ll pick it to pieces as we
+trot along.”
+
+“There is little need of that, sir, if what they say be true. I hear,
+from all quarters, that it is doing that for itself, on a gallop.”
+
+“Shame on thee, lad—I have half a mind to banish thee to Philadelphia!
+But put up the code; thy joke can’t be worse than that joke. As for
+Michael, he can accompany us if he wish it; but you must both be ready
+by ten. At ten, precisely, we quit my door, in the chariot of Phœbus,
+eh, Ned?”
+
+“Call it what you please, so you do but go. Be active, young gentlemen,
+for we have no time to throw away. The jury meet again at two, and we
+have several hours of road before us. I will run round and look at my
+slate, and be here by the time you are ready.”
+
+On this suggestion everybody was set in active motion. John went for his
+books, and to fill a small rubber bag for himself; Michael did the same,
+and Sarah was busy in her uncle’s room. As for Dunscomb, he made the
+necessary disposition of some papers, wrote two or three notes, and held
+himself at the command of his friend. This affair was just the sort of
+professional business in which he liked to be engaged. Not that he had
+any sympathy with crime, for he was strongly averse to all communion
+with rogues; but it appeared to him, by the representations of the
+doctor, to be a mission of mercy. A solitary, young, unfriended female,
+accused, or suspected, of a most heinous crime, and looking around for a
+protector and an adviser, was an object too interesting for a man of his
+temperament to overlook, under the appeal that had been made. Still he
+was not the dupe of his feelings. All his coolness, sagacity, knowledge
+of human nature, and professional attainments, were just as active in
+him as they ever had been in his life. Two things he understood well:
+that we are much too often deceived by outward signs, mistaking
+character by means of a fair exterior, and studied words, and that
+neither youth, beauty, sex, nor personal graces were infallible
+preventives of the worst offences, on the one hand; and that, on the
+other, men nurture distrust, and suspicion, often, until it grows too
+large to be concealed, by means of their own propensity to feed the
+imagination and to exaggerate. Against these two weaknesses he was now
+resolved to arm himself; and when the whole party drove from the door,
+our counsellor was as clear-headed and impartial, according to his own
+notion of the matter, as if he were a judge.
+
+By this time the young men had obtained a general notion of the business
+they were on, and the very first subject that was started, on quitting
+the door, was in a question put by John Wilmeter, in continuation of a
+discussion that had been commenced between himself and his friend.
+
+“Mike and I have a little difference of opinion, on a point connected
+with this matter, which I could wish you to settle for us, as an
+arbiter. On the supposition that you find reason to believe that this
+young woman has really committed these horrible crimes, what would be
+your duty in the case—to continue to befriend her, and advise her, and
+use your experience and talents in order to shield her against the
+penalties of the law, or to abandon her at once?”
+
+“In plain English, Jack, you and your brother student wish to know
+whether I am to act as a palladium, or as a runagate, in this affair. As
+neophytes in your craft, it may be well to suggest to you, in the first
+place, that I have not yet been fee’d. I never knew a lawyer’s
+conscience trouble him about questions in casuistry, until he had
+received something down.”
+
+“But you can suppose that something paid, in this case, sir, and then
+answer our question.”
+
+“This is just the case in which I can suppose nothing of the sort. Had
+McBrain given me to understand I was to meet a client, with a well-lined
+purse, who was accused of arson and murder, I would have seen him
+married to two women, at the same time, before I would have budged. It’s
+the want of a fee that takes me out of town, this morning.”
+
+“And the same want, I trust, sir, will stimulate you to solve our
+difficulty.”
+
+The uncle laughed, and nodded his head, much as if he would say, “Pretty
+well for _you_;” then he gave a thought to the point in professional
+ethics that had started up between his two students.
+
+“This is a very old question with the profession, gentlemen,” Dunscomb
+answered, a little more gravely. “You will find men who maintain that
+the lawyer has, morally, a right to do whatever his client would do;
+that he puts himself in the place of the man he defends, and is expected
+to do everything precisely as if he were the accused party himself. I
+rather think that some vague notion, quite as loose as this, prevails
+pretty generally among what one may call the minor moralists of the
+profession.”
+
+“I confess, sir, that I have been given to understand that some such
+rule _ought_ to govern our conduct,” said Michael Millington, who had
+been in Dunscomb’s office only for the last six months.
+
+“Then you have been very loosely and badly instructed in the duties of
+an advocate, Mr. Michael. A more pernicious doctrine was never broached,
+or one better suited to make men scoundrels. Let a young man begin
+practice with such notions, and two or three thieves for clients will
+prepare him to commit petit larceny, and a case or two of perjury would
+render him an exquisite at an affidavit. No, my boys, here is your rule
+in this matter: an advocate has a _right_ to do whatever his client has
+a _right_ to do—not what his client _would_ do.”
+
+“Surely, sir, an advocate is justified in telling his client to plead
+not guilty, though guilty; and in aiding him to persuade a jury to
+acquit him, though satisfied himself he ought to be convicted!”
+
+“You have got hold of the great point in the case, Jack, and one on
+which something may be said on both sides. The law is so indulgent, as
+to permit an accused who has formally pleaded ‘guilty,’ thus making a
+distinct admission of his crime, to withdraw that plea, and put in
+another of ‘not guilty.’ Now, had the same person made a similar
+admission _out_ of court, and under circumstances that put threats or
+promises out of the question, the law would have accepted _that_
+admission as the best possible evidence of his guilt. It is evident,
+therefore, that an understanding exists, to which the justice of the
+country is a party, that a man, though guilty, shall get himself out of
+the scrape, if he can do so by legal means. No more importance is
+attached to the ‘not guilty,’ than to the ‘not at home’ to a visitor; it
+being understood, by general convention, that neither means anything.
+Some persons are so squeamish, as to cause their servants to say ‘they
+are engaged,’ by way of not telling a lie; but a lie consists in the
+intentional deception, and ‘not in’ and ‘not guilty’ mean no more, in
+the one case, than ‘you can’t see my master,’ and in the other, than
+‘I’ll run the chances of a trial.’”
+
+“After all, sir, this is going pretty near the wind, in the way of
+morals.”
+
+“It certainly is. The Christian man who has committed a crime, ought not
+to attempt to deny it to his country, as he certainly cannot to his God.
+Yet, nine hundred and ninety-nine in a thousand of the most strait-laced
+Christians in the community would so deny their guilt, if arraigned. We
+must not tax poor human nature too heavily, though I think the common
+law contains many things, originating in a jealousy of hereditary power,
+that it is great folly for us to preserve. But, while we are thus
+settling principles, we forget facts. You have told me nothing of your
+client, Ned.”
+
+“What would you wish to know?”
+
+“You called her young, I remember; what may be her precise age?”
+
+“That is more than I know; somewhere between sixteen and
+five-and-twenty.”
+
+“Five-and-twenty! Is she as old as that?”
+
+“I rather think not; but I have been thinking much of her this morning,
+and I really do not remember to have seen another human being who is so
+difficult to describe.”
+
+“She has eyes, of course?”
+
+“Two—and very expressive they are; though, sworn, I could not tell their
+colour.”
+
+“And hair?”
+
+“In very great profusion; so much of it, and so very fine and shining,
+that it was the first thing about her person which I observed. But I
+have not the least notion of its colour.”
+
+“Was it red?”
+
+“No; nor yellow, nor golden, nor black, nor brown,—and yet a little of
+all blended together, I should say.”
+
+“Ned, I’ll tell the Widow Updyke of thee, thou rogue!”
+
+“Tell her, and welcome. She has asked me all these questions herself,
+this very morning.”
+
+“Oh, she has, has she? Umph! Woman never changes her nature. You cannot
+say anything about the eyes, beyond the fact of their being very
+expressive?”
+
+“And pleasing; more than that, even—engaging; winning, is a better
+term.”
+
+“Ned, you dog, you have never told the widow one-half!”
+
+“Every syllable. I even went farther, and declared I had never beheld a
+countenance that, in so short an interview, made so deep an impression
+on me. If I were not to see this young woman again, I should never
+forget the expression of her face—so spirited, so sad, so gentle, so
+feminine, and so very intelligent. It seemed to me to be what I should
+call an illuminated countenance.”
+
+“Handsome?”
+
+“Not unusually so, among our sweet American girls, except through the
+expression. That was really wonderful; though, you will remember, I saw
+her under very peculiar circumstances.”
+
+“Oh, exceedingly peculiar. Dear old soul; what a thump she has given
+him! How were her mouth and her teeth?—complexion, stature, figure, and
+smile?”
+
+“I can tell you little of all these. Her teeth are fine; for she gave me
+a faint smile, such as a lady is apt to give a man in quitting him, and
+I saw just enough of the teeth to know that they are exceedingly fine.
+You smile, young gentlemen; but _you_ may have a care for your hearts,
+in good truth; for if this strange girl interests either of you one-half
+as much as she has interested me, she will be either Mrs. John Wilmeter,
+or Mrs. Michael Millington, within a twelvemonth.”
+
+Michael looked very sure that she would never fill the last situation,
+which was already bespoke for Miss Sarah Wilmeter; and as for Jack, he
+laughed outright.
+
+“We’ll tell Mrs. Updyke of him, when we get back, and break off that
+affair, at least,” cried the uncle, winking at the nephew, but in a way
+his friend should see him; “then there will be one marriage the less in
+the world.”
+
+“But is she a lady, doctor?” demanded John, after a short pause. “My
+wife must have some trifling claims in that way, I can assure you.”
+
+“As for family, education, association and fortune, I can say nothing,—I
+know nothing. Yet will I take upon myself to say she _is_ a lady,—and
+that, in the strict signification of the term.”
+
+“You are not serious now, Ned!” exclaimed the counsellor, quickly. “Not
+a _bony fide_, as some of our gentlemen have it? You cannot mean
+_exactly_ what you say.”
+
+“I do, though; and that literally.”
+
+“And she suspected of arson and murder! Where are her connections and
+friends,—those who made her a lady? Why is she there alone, and, as you
+say, unfriended?”
+
+“So it seemed to me. You might as well ask me why she is there, at all.
+I know nothing of all this. I heard plenty of reasons in the street, why
+she ought to be distrusted,—nay, convicted; for the feeling against her
+had got to be intense, before I left Biberry; but no one could tell me
+whence she came, or why she was there.”
+
+“Did you learn her name?”
+
+“Yes; that was in every mouth, and I could not help hearing it. She was
+called Mary Monson by the people of Biberry—but I much doubt if that be
+her real name.”
+
+“So, your angel in disguise will have to be tried under an ‘alias!’ That
+is not much in her favour, Ned. I shall ask no more questions, but wait
+patiently to see and judge for myself.”
+
+The young men put a few more interrogatories, which were civilly
+answered, and then the subject was dropped. Well it has been said that
+“God made the country; man made the town.” No one feels this more than
+he who has been shut up between walls of brick and stone for many
+months, on his first escape into the open, unfettered fields and winding
+pleasant roads. Thus was it now with Dunscomb. He had not been out of
+town since the previous summer, and great was his delight at smelling
+the fragrance of the orchards, and feasting his eyes on their beauties.
+All the other charms of the season came in aid of these, and when the
+carriage drove into the long, broad, and we might almost say single
+street of Biberry, Dunscomb in particular was in a most tranquil and
+pleasant state of mind. He had come out to assist a friendless woman,
+cheerfully and without a thought of the sacrifice, either as to time or
+money, though in reflecting on all the circumstances he began to have
+his doubts of the wisdom of the step he had taken. Nevertheless, he
+preserved his native calmness of manner, and coolness of head.
+
+Biberry was found to be in a state of high excitement. There were at
+least a dozen physicians collected there, all from the county, and five
+or six reporters had come from town. Rumours of all sorts were afloat,
+and Mary Monson was a name in every person’s mouth. She had not been
+arrested, however, it having been deemed premature for that; but she was
+vigilantly watched, and two large trunks of which she was the mistress,
+as well as an oilskin-covered box of some size, if not absolutely
+seized, were so placed that their owner had no access to them. This
+state of things, however, did not seem to give the suspected girl any
+uneasiness; she was content with what a carpet-bag contained, and with
+which she said she was comfortable. It was a question with the wiseacres
+whether she knew that she was suspected or not.
+
+Had Dunscomb yielded to McBrain’s solicitations, he would have gone at
+once to the house in which Mary Monson was now lodged, but he preferred
+adopting a different course. He thought it the most prudent to be a
+looker-on, until after the next examination, which was now close at
+hand. Wary by long habit, and cool by temperament, he was disposed to
+observe the state of things before he committed himself. The presence of
+the reporters annoyed him; not that he stood in any dread of the low
+tyranny that is so apt to characterize this class of men, for no member
+of the bar had held them, and the puny efforts of many among them to
+build up and take away professional character, in greater contempt than
+he had done; but he disliked to have his name mixed up with a cause of
+this magnitude, unless he had made up his mind to go through with it. In
+this temper, then, no communication was held with Mary Monson, until
+they met, at the hour appointed for the inquest, in the court-house.
+
+The room was crowded, at least twice as many having collected on this
+occasion as had got together on the sudden call of the previous
+examination. Dunscomb observed that the coroner looked grave, like a man
+who felt he had important business on his hands, while a stern
+expectation was the expression common to nearly all the others present.
+He was an utter stranger, himself, even by sight, to every being
+present, his own party and two or three of the reporters excepted. These
+last no sooner observed him, however, than out came their little
+note-books, and the gold pens were at work, scribbling something. It was
+probably a sentence to say, “we observed among the crowd Thomas
+Dunscomb, Esquire, the well-known counsel _from the city_;” but Dunscomb
+cared very little for such vulgarisms, and continued passive.
+
+As soon as the inquest was organized, the coroner directed a physician
+of the neighbourhood to be put on the stand. It had gone forth that a
+“city doctor” had intimated that neither of the skeletons was that of
+Peter Goodwin, and there was a common wish to confront him with a high
+country authority. It was while the medical man now in request was sent
+for, that McBrain pointed out to Dunscomb the person of Mary Monson. She
+sat in a corner different from that she had occupied the day before,
+seemingly for the same purpose, or that of being alone. Alone she was
+not, strictly, however; a respectable-looking female, of middle age,
+being at her side. This was a Mrs. Jones, the wife of a clergyman, who
+had charitably offered the suspected young stranger a home under her own
+roof, pending the investigation. It was thought, generally, that Mary
+Monson had but very vague notions of the distrust that rested on her, it
+being a part of the plan of those who were exercising all their wits to
+detect the criminal, that she was first to learn this fact in open
+court, and under circumstances likely to elicit some proofs of guilt.
+When Dunscomb learned this artifice, he saw how ungenerous and unmanly
+it was, readily imagined a dozen signs of weakness that a female might
+exhibit in such a strait, that had no real connection with crime, and
+felt a strong disposition to seek an interview, and put the suspected
+party on her guard. It was too late for this, however, just then; and he
+contented himself, for the moment, with studying such signs of character
+and consciousness as his native sagacity and long experience enabled him
+to detect.
+
+Although nothing could be more simple or unpretending than the attire of
+Mary Monson, it was clearly that of a lady. Everything about her denoted
+that station, or origin; though everything about her, as Dunscomb
+fancied, also denoted a desire to bring herself down, as nearly as
+possible, to the level of those around her, most probably that she might
+not attract particular attention. Our lawyer did not exactly like this
+slight proof of management, and wished it were not so apparent. He could
+see the hands, feet, figure, hair, and general air of the female he was
+so strangely called on to make the subject of his investigations, but he
+could not yet see her face. The last was again covered with a cambric
+handkerchief, the hand which held it being ungloved. It was a pretty
+little American hand; white, well-proportioned, and delicate. It was
+clear, that neither its proportions nor its colour had been changed by
+uses unsuited to its owner’s sex or years. But it had no ring, in this
+age of be-jewelled fingers. It was the left hand, moreover, and the
+fourth finger, like all the rest, had no ornament, or sign of matrimony.
+He inferred from this, that the stranger was unmarried; one of the last
+things that a wife usually lays aside being her wedding-ring. The foot
+corresponded with the hand, and was decidedly the smallest, best-formed,
+and best-decorated foot in Biberry. John Wilmeter thought it the
+prettiest he had ever seen. It was not studiously exhibited, however,
+but rested naturally and gracefully in its proper place. The figure
+generally, so far as a capacious shawl would allow of its being seen,
+was pleasing, graceful, and a little remarkable for accuracy of
+proportions, as well as of attire.
+
+Once or twice Mrs. Jones spoke to her companion; and it was when
+answering some question thus put, that Dunscomb first got a glimpse of
+his intended client’s face. The handkerchief was partly removed, and
+remained so long enough to enable him to make a few brief observations.
+It was then that he felt the perfect justice of his friend’s
+description. It was an indescribable countenance, in all things but its
+effect; which was quite as marked on the lawyer, as it had been on the
+physician. But the arrival of Dr. Coe put an end to these observations,
+and drew all eyes on that individual, who was immediately sworn. The
+customary preliminary questions were put to this witness, respecting his
+profession, length of practice, residence, &c., when the examination
+turned more on the matter immediately under investigation.
+
+“You see those objects on the table, doctor?” said the coroner. “What do
+you say they are?”
+
+“_Ossa hominum_; human bones, much defaced and charred by heat.”
+
+“Do you find any proof about them of violence committed, beyond the
+damage done by fire?”
+
+“Certainly. There is the _os frontis_ of each fractured by a blow; a
+common blow, as I should judge.”
+
+“What do you mean, sir, by a common blow? An accidental, or an
+intentional blow?”
+
+“By common blow, I mean that one blow did the damage to both _cranys_.”
+
+“_Crany?_—how do you spell that word, doctor? Common folks get put out
+by foreign tongues.”
+
+“Cranys, in the plural, sir. We say cran_ium_, for _one_ skull, and
+crany, for two.”
+
+“I wonder what he would say for numskull?” whispered John to Michael.
+
+“Yes, sir; I understand you, now. I trust the reporters will get it
+right.”
+
+“Oh! they never make any mistakes, especially in legal proceedings,”
+quietly remarked Mr. Dunscomb to the doctor. “In matters of law and the
+constitution, they are of proof! Talk of letters on the constitution!
+What are equal to those that come to us, _hibernally_, as one may say,
+from Washington?”
+
+“Hibernially would be the better word,” answered McBrain, in the same
+under tone.
+
+“You ought to know; your grandfather was an Irishman, Ned. But listen to
+this examination.”
+
+“And now, Dr. Coe, have the goodness to look at those skeletons,”
+resumed the coroner, “and tell us whether they belong to man, woman, or
+child. Whether they are the remains of adults, or of children.”
+
+“Of adults, certainly. On that point, sir, I conceive there can be no
+doubt.”
+
+“And as to the sex?”
+
+“I should think that is equally clear. I have no doubt that one are the
+remains of Peter Goodwin, and the other those of his wife. Science can
+distinguish between the sexes, in ordinary cases, I allow; but this is a
+case in which science is at fault, for want of facts; and taking all the
+known circumstances into consideration, I have no hesitation in saying
+that, according to my best judgment, those are the remains of the
+missing man and woman—man and wife.”
+
+“Am I to understand that you recognize the particular skeletons by any
+outward, visible proofs?”
+
+“Yes; there is the stature. Both of the deceased were well known to me;
+and I should say, that making the usual allowance for the absence of the
+_musculi_, the _pellis_, and other known substances——
+
+“Doctor, would it be just as agreeable to you to use the common
+dialect?” demanded a shrewd-looking farmer, one of the jury, who
+appeared equally amused and vexed at this display of learning.
+
+“Certainly, sir—certainly, Mr. Blore; _musculi_ means muscles, and
+_pellis_ is the skin. Abstract the muscles and skin, and the other
+intermediate substances, from the bones, and the apparent stature would
+be reduced, as a matter of course. Making those allowances, I see in
+those skeletons the remains of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin. Of the fact, I
+entertain no manner of doubt.”
+
+As Dr. Coe was very sincere in what he said, he expressed himself
+somewhat earnestly. A great many eyes were turned triumphantly towards
+the stranger who had presumed to intimate that the bones of both the
+remains were those of women, when everybody in and about Biberry knew
+Peter Goodwin so well, and knew that his wife, if anything, was the
+taller of the two. No one in all that crowd doubted as to the fact,
+except McBrain and his friend; and the last doubted altogether on the
+faith of the doctor’s science. He had never known him mistaken, though
+often examined in court, and was aware that the bar considered him one
+of the safest and surest witnesses they could employ in all cases of
+controverted facts.
+
+Dr. Coe’s examination proceeded.
+
+“Have you a direct knowledge of any of the circumstances connected with
+this fire?” demanded the coroner.
+
+“A little, perhaps. I was called to visit a patient about midnight, and
+was obliged to pass directly before the door of Goodwin’s house. The
+jury knows that it stood on a retired road, and that one would not be
+likely to meet with any person travelling it, so early in the morning. I
+did pass, however, two men, who were walking very fast, and in the
+direction of Goodwin’s. I could not see their faces, nor did I know them
+by their figures and movements. As I see everybody, and know almost
+everybody, hereabouts, I concluded they were strangers. About four, I
+was on my return along the same road, and as my sulky rose to the top of
+Windy Hill, I got a view of Goodwin’s house. The flames were just
+streaming out of the east end of the roof, and the little wing on that
+end of the building, in which the old folks slept, was in a bright
+blaze. The other end was not much injured; and I saw at an upper window
+the figure of a female—she resembled, as well as I could judge by that
+light, and at that distance, the young lady now present, and who is said
+to have occupied the chamber under the roof, in the old house, for some
+time past; though I can’t say I have ever seen her there, unless I saw
+her then, under the circumstances mentioned. The old people could not
+have been as ailing this spring as was common with them, as I do not
+remember to have been stopped by them once. They never were in the habit
+of sending for the doctor, but seldom let me go past the door, without
+calling me in.”
+
+“Did you see any one beside the figure of the female at the window?”
+
+“Yes. There were two men beneath that window, and they appeared to me to
+be speaking to, or holding some sort of communication with, the female.
+I saw gestures, and I saw one or two articles thrown out of the window.
+My view was only for a minute; and when I reached the house, a
+considerable crowd had collected, and I had no opportunity to observe,
+particularly in a scene of such confusion.”
+
+“Was the female still at the upper window, when you reached the house?”
+
+“No. I saw the lady now present standing near the burning building, and
+held by a man—Peter Davidson, I think it was—who told me she wanted to
+rush into the house to look for the old folks.”
+
+“Did you see any efforts of that sort in her?”
+
+“Certainly. She struggled to get away from Peter, and acted like a
+person who wished to rush into the burning building.”
+
+“Were the struggles natural—or might they not have been affected?”
+
+“They might. If it was acting, it was _good_ acting. I have seen as
+good, however, in my life.”
+
+The doctor had a meaning manner, that said more than his words. He spoke
+very low—so low as not to be audible to those who sat in the farther
+parts of the room; which will explain the perfect indifference to his
+testimony, that was manifested by the subject of his remarks. An
+impression, however, was made on the jury, which was composed of men
+much disposed to push distrust to demonstration.
+
+The coroner now thought it time to spring the principal mine, which had
+been carefully preparing during the recess in the investigation; and he
+ordered “Mary Monson” to be called—a witness who had been regularly
+summoned to attend, among the crowd of persons that had received similar
+notices.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER IV.
+
+ My deed’s upon my head! I crave the law,
+ The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
+ _Shylock._
+
+
+The eyes of Dunscomb were fastened intently on the female stranger, as
+she advanced to the place occupied by the witnesses. Her features
+denoted agitation, certainly; but he saw no traces of guilt. It seemed
+so improbable, moreover, that a young woman of her years and appearance
+should be guilty of so dark an offence, and that for money, too, that
+all the chances were in favour of her innocence. Still, there were
+suspicious circumstances, out of all question, connected with her
+situation; and he was too much experienced in the strange and
+unaccountable ways of crime, not to be slow to form his conclusions.
+
+The face of Mary Monson was now fully exposed; it being customary to
+cause female witnesses to remove their hats, in order that the jurors
+may observe their countenances. And what a countenance it was! Feminine,
+open, with scarce a trace of the ordinary passions about it, and
+illuminated from within, as we have already intimated. The girl might
+have been twenty, though she afterwards stated her age to be a little
+more than twenty-one—perhaps the most interesting period of a female’s
+existence. The features were not particularly regular, and an artist
+might have discovered various drawbacks on her beauty, if not positive
+defects; but no earthly being could have quarrelled with the expression.
+That was a mixture of intelligence, softness, spirit, and feminine
+innocence, that did not fail to produce an impression on a crowd which
+had almost settled down into a firm conviction of her guilt. Some even
+doubted, and most of those present thought it very strange.
+
+The reporters began to write, casting their eyes eagerly towards this
+witness; and John Dunscomb, who sat near them, soon discovered that
+there were material discrepancies in their descriptions. These, however,
+were amicably settled by comparing notes; and when the accounts of that
+day’s examination appeared in the journals of the time, they were
+sufficiently consistent with each other; much more so, indeed, than with
+the truth in its severer aspects. There was no wish to mislead,
+probably; but the whole system has the capital defect of making a trade
+of news. The history of passing events comes to us sufficiently clouded
+and obscured by the most vulgar and least praiseworthy of all our lesser
+infirmities, even when left to take what may be termed its natural
+course; but, as soon as the money-getting principle is applied to it,
+facts become articles for the market, and go up and down, much as do
+other commodities, in the regular prices-current.
+
+Mary Monson trembled a little when sworn; but she had evidently braced
+her nerves for the trial. Women are very capable of self-command, even
+in situations as foreign to their habits as this, if they have time to
+compose themselves, and to come forward under the influence of
+resolutions deliberately formed. Such was probably the state of mind of
+this solitary and seemingly unfriended young woman; for, though pale as
+death, she was apparently composed. We say unfriended—Mrs. Jones,
+herself, having given all her friends to understand that she had invited
+the stranger to her house under a sense of general duty, and not on
+account of any private or particular interest she felt in her affairs.
+She was as much a stranger to her, as to every one else in the village.
+
+“Will you be so good as to tell us your name, place of ordinary
+residence, and usual occupation?” asked the coroner, in a dry, cold
+manner, though not until he had offered the witness a seat, in
+compliment to her sex.
+
+If the face of Mary Monson was pale the instant before, it now flushed
+to scarlet. The tint that appears in the August evening sky, when
+heat-lightning illuminates the horizon, is scarce more bright than that
+which chased the previous pallid hue from her cheeks. Dunscomb
+understood her dilemma, and interposed. She was equally unwilling to
+tell her real name, and to give a false one, under the solemn
+responsibility of an oath. There is, probably, less of deliberate,
+calculated false-swearing, than of any other offence against justice;
+few having the nerve, or the moral obtuseness, that is necessary to
+perjury. We do not mean by this, that all which legal witnesses say is
+true, or the half of it; for ignorance, dull imaginations working out
+solutions of half-comprehended propositions, and the strong propensity
+we all feel to see things as we have expected to find them, in a measure
+disqualifies fully half of those on whom the law has devolved a most
+important duty, to discharge it with due intelligence and impartiality.
+
+“As a member of the bar, I interfere in behalf of the witness,” said
+Dunscomb, rising. “She is evidently unacquainted with her true position
+here, and consequently with her rights. Jack, get a glass of water for
+the young lady;” and never did Jack obey a request of his uncle with
+greater alacrity. “A witness cannot, with propriety, be treated as a
+criminal, or one suspected, without being apprised that the law does not
+require of those thus circumstanced, answers affecting themselves.”
+
+Dunscomb had listened more to his feelings than to his legal knowledge,
+in offering this objection, inasmuch as no very searching question had,
+as yet, been put to Mary Monson. This the coroner saw, and he did not
+fail to let it be understood that he was aware of the weakness of the
+objection.
+
+“Coroners are not governed by precisely the same rules as ordinary
+committing magistrates,” he quietly observed, “though we equally respect
+the rules of evidence. No witness is obliged to answer a question before
+an inquest, that will criminate himself, any more than at the Oyer and
+Terminer. If the lady will say she does not wish to tell her real name,
+_because it may criminate her_, I shall not press the question myself,
+or allow it to be pressed by others.”
+
+“Very true, sir; but the law requires, in these preliminary proceedings,
+no more than such accuracy as is convenient in making out the records. I
+conceive that in this particular case the question might be varied by
+asking, ‘You are known by the name of Mary Monson, I believe?’”
+
+“What great harm can it be to this young female to give her real name,
+Mr. Dunscomb, as I understand you are that distinguished counsellor, if
+she be perfectly innocent of the death of the Goodwins?”
+
+“A perfectly innocent person may have good reasons for wishing to
+conceal her name. These reasons obtain additional force when we look
+around us, and see a committee of reporters, who stand ready to transmit
+all that passes to the press;—but, it might better serve the ends of
+justice to allow me to confer with the witness in private.”
+
+“With all my heart, sir. Take her into one of the jury rooms, and I will
+put another physician on the stand. When you are through with your
+consultation, Mr. Dunscomb, we shall be ready to proceed with your
+client.”
+
+Dunscomb offered his arm to the girl, and led her through the crowd,
+while a third medical man was sworn. This witness corroborated all of
+Dr. Coe’s opinions, treating the supposition that both the skeletons
+were those of women with very little respect. It must be admitted that
+the suspected stranger lost a great deal of ground in the course of that
+half-hour. In the first place, the discussion about the name was
+received very much as an admission of guilt; for Dunscomb’s argument
+that persons who were innocent might have many reasons for concealing
+their names, did not carry much weight with the good people of Biberry.
+Then any doubts which might have been raised by McBrain’s suggestion
+concerning the nature of the skeletons, were effectually removed by the
+corroborating testimony of Dr. Short, who so fully sustained Dr. Coe. So
+much are the Americans accustomed to refer the decision of nearly all
+questions to numbers, it scarcely exaggerates the truth to say that, on
+the stand, the opinion of half-a-dozen country surveyors touching a
+problem in geometry, would be very apt to overshadow that of a professor
+from West Point, or old Yale. Majorities are the primum mobile of the
+common mind, and he who can get the greatest number on his side is very
+apt to be considered right, and to reap the benefits of being so.
+
+A fourth and a fifth medical man were examined, and they concurred in
+the opinions of Dr. Coe and his neighbours. All gave it as the result of
+their enquiries, that they believed the two skulls had been broken with
+the same instrument, and that the blow, if it did not cause immediate
+death, must have had the effect to destroy consciousness. As regards the
+sex, the answers were given in a tone somewhat supercilious.
+
+“Science is a very good thing in its place,” observed one of these last
+witnesses; “but science is subject to known facts We all know that Peter
+Goodwin and his wife lived in that house; we all know that Dorothy
+Goodwin was a large woman, and that Peter Goodwin was a small man,—that
+they were about of a height, in fact,—and that these skeletons very
+accurately represent their respective statures. We also know that the
+house is burnt, that the old couple are missing, that these bones were
+found in a wing in which they slept, and that no other bones have been
+found there. Now, to my judgment, these facts carry as much weight, ay,
+even more weight, than any scientific reasoning in the premises. I
+conclude, therefore, that these are the remains of Peter and Dorothy
+Goodwin—have no doubt that they are, indeed.”
+
+“Am I permitted to ask this witness a question, Mr. Coroner?” demanded
+Dr. McBrain.
+
+“With all my heart, sir. The jury wishes to ascertain all they can, and
+our sole object is justice. Our inquests are not very rigid as to forms,
+and you are welcome to examine the witness as much as you please.”
+
+“You knew Goodwin?” asked McBrain, directly of the witness.
+
+“I did, sir; quite well.”
+
+“Had he all his teeth, as you remember?”
+
+“I think he had.”
+
+“On the supposition that his front upper teeth were all gone, and that
+the skeleton you suppose to be his _had_ all the front upper teeth,
+would you still regard the facts you have mentioned as better, or even
+as good proof, as the evidence of science, which tells us that the man
+who has lost his teeth cannot possess them?”
+
+“I scarcely call that a scientific fact, at all, sir. Any one may judge
+of that circumstance, as well as a physician. If it were as you say, I
+should consider the presence of the teeth pretty good proof that the
+skeleton was that of some other person, unless the teeth were the work
+of a dentist.”
+
+“Then why not put any other equally sure anatomical fact in opposition
+to what is generally supposed, in connection with the wing, the presence
+of the men, and all the other circumstances you have mentioned?”
+
+“If there were any other sure anatomical fact, so I would. But, in the
+condition in which those remains are, I do not think the best anatomist
+could say that he can distinguish whether they belonged to a man or to a
+woman.”
+
+“I confess that the case has its difficulties,” McBrain quietly
+answered. “Still I incline to my first opinion. I trust, Mr. Coroner,
+that the skeletons will be carefully preserved, so long as there may be
+any reason to continue these legal enquiries?”
+
+“Certainly, sir. A box is made for that purpose, and they will be
+carefully deposited in it, as soon as the inquest adjourns for the day.
+It is no unusual thing, gentlemen, for doctors to disagree.”
+
+This was said with a smile, and had the effect to keep the peace.
+McBrain, however, had all the modesty of knowledge, and was never
+disposed to show off his superior attainments in the faces of those who
+might be supposed to know less than himself. Nor was he, by any means,
+certain of his fact; though greatly inclined to believe that both the
+skeletons were those of females. The heat had been so powerful as to
+derange, in some measure, if not entirely to deface, his proofs; and he
+was not a man to press a fact, in a case of this magnitude, without
+sufficient justification. All he now wanted, was to reserve a point that
+might have a material influence hereafter, in coming to a correct
+conclusion.
+
+It was fully an hour before Dunscomb returned, bringing Mary Monson on
+his arm. John followed the latter closely, for, though not admitted to
+the room in which this long private conference had been held, he had not
+ceased to pace the gallery in front of its door during the whole time.
+Dunscomb looked very grave, and, as McBrain thought, and he was very
+expert in interpreting the language of his friend’s countenance,
+disappointed. The girl herself had evidently been weeping, and that
+violently. There was a paleness of the face, and a tremor in the frame,
+too, that caused the observant physician to suppose that, for the first
+time, she had been made to comprehend that she was the object of such
+dire distrust. No sooner were the two in their old seats, than the
+coroner prepared to renew the suspended examination.
+
+“Witness,” repeated that functionary with marked formality, “what is
+your name?”
+
+The answer was given in a tremulous voice, but with sufficient
+readiness, as if previously prepared.
+
+“I am known, in and around Biberry, by the name of Mary Monson.”
+
+The coroner paused, passed a hand over his brow, mused a moment, and
+abandoned a half-formed determination he had made, to push this
+particular enquiry as far as he could. To state the truth, he was a
+little afraid of Mr. Thomas Dunscomb, whose reputation at the bar was of
+too high a character to have escaped his notice. On the whole,
+therefore, he decided to accept the name of Mary Monson, reserving the
+right of the state to enquire further, hereafter.
+
+“Where do you reside?”
+
+“At present, in this place—lately, in the family of Peter Goodwin, whose
+remains are supposed to be in this room.”
+
+“How long had you resided in that family?”
+
+“Nine weeks, to a day. I arrived in the morning, and the fire occurred
+at night.”
+
+“Relate all that you know concerning that fire, if you please, Miss—I
+call you Miss, supposing you to be unmarried?”
+
+Mary Monson merely made a slight inclination of her head, as one
+acknowledges that a remark is heard and understood. This did not more
+than half satisfy the coroner, his wife, for reasons of her own, having
+particularly desired him to ask the “Monson girl,” when she was put on
+the stand, whether she was or was not married. But it was too late, just
+then, to ascertain this interesting fact, and the examination proceeded.
+
+“Relate all that you know concerning the fire, if you please, ma’am.”
+
+“I know very little. I was awakened by a bright light—arose, and dressed
+myself as well as I could, and was about to descend the stairs, when I
+found I was too late. I then went to a window, and intended to throw my
+bed out, and let myself down on it, when two men appeared, and raised a
+ladder, by which I got safely out.”
+
+“Were any of your effects saved?”
+
+“All, I believe. The same two persons entered my room, and passed my
+trunks, box, and carpet-bag, writing-desk, and other articles, out of
+the room, as well as most of its furniture. It was the part of the
+building last on fire, and it was safe entering the room I occupied, for
+near half an hour after I escaped.”
+
+“How long had you known the Goodwins?”
+
+“From the time when I first came to live in their house.”
+
+“Did you pass the evening of the night of the fire in their company?”
+
+“I did not. Very little of my time was passed in their company, unless
+it was at meals.”
+
+This answer caused a little stir among the audience, of whom much the
+larger portion thought it contained an admission to be noted. Why should
+not a young woman who lived in a house so much apart from a general
+neighbourhood, not pass most of her time in the company of those with
+whom she dwelt? “If they were good enough to live with, I should think
+they might be good enough to associate with,” whispered one of the most
+active female talkers of Biberry, but in a tone so loud as to be heard
+by all near her.
+
+This was merely yielding to a national and increasing susceptibility to
+personal claims; it being commonly thought aristocratic to refuse to
+associate with everybody, when the person subject to remark has any
+apparent advantages to render such association desirable. All others may
+do as they please.
+
+“You did not, then, make one of the family regularly, but were there for
+some particular purpose of your own?” resumed the coroner.
+
+“I think, sir, on reflection, that you will see this examination is
+taking a very irregular course,” interposed Dunscomb. “It is more like
+an investigation for a commitment, than an inquest.”
+
+“The law allows the freest modes of enquiry in all such cases, Mr.
+Dunscomb. Recollect, sir, there have been arson and murder—two of the
+highest crimes known to the books.”
+
+“I do not forget it; and recognise not only all your rights, sir, but
+your duties. Nevertheless, this young lady has rights, too, and is to be
+treated distinctly in one of two characters; as a witness, or as a party
+accused. If in the latter, I shall at once advise her to answer no more
+questions in this state of the case. My duty, as her counsel, requires
+me to say as much.”
+
+“She has, then, regularly retained you, Mr. Dunscomb?” the coroner
+asked, with interest.
+
+“That, sir, is a matter between her and myself. I appear here as
+counsel, and shall claim the rights of one. I know that you can carry on
+this inquest without my interference, if you see fit; but no one can
+exclude the citizen from the benefit of advice. Even the new code, as
+extravagant and high-flying an invention as ever came from the misguided
+ingenuity of man, will allow of this.”
+
+“There is no wish, Mr. Dunscomb, to put any obstacles in your way. Let
+every man do his whole duty. Your client can certainly refuse to answer
+any questions she may please, on the ground that the answer may tend to
+criminate herself; and so may any one else.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir; the law is still more indulgent in these
+preliminary proceedings. A party who knows himself to be suspected, has
+a right to evade questions that may militate against his interests; else
+would the boasted protection which the law so far throws around every
+one, that he need not be his own accuser, become a mere pretence.”
+
+“I shall endeavour to put my questions in such a way, as to give her the
+benefit of all her rights. Miss Monson, it is said that you have been
+seen, since the fire, to have some gold in your possession; have you any
+objection to let that gold be seen by the jury?”
+
+“None in the world, sir. I have a few gold pieces—here they are, in my
+purse. They do not amount to much, either in numbers or value. You are
+at liberty to examine them as much as you please.”
+
+Dunscomb had betrayed a little uneasiness at this question; but the
+calm, steady manner in which the young woman answered, and the coolness
+with which she put her purse into the coroner’s hand, reassured, or
+rather surprised him. He remained silent, therefore, interposing no
+objection to the examination.
+
+“Here are seven half-eagles, two quarter-eagles, and a strange coin that
+I do not remember ever to have seen before,” said the coroner. “What do
+you call this piece, Mr. Dunscomb?”
+
+“I cannot tell you, sir; I do not remember ever to have seen the coin
+before, myself.”
+
+“It is an Italian coin, of the value of about twenty dollars, they tell
+me,” answered Mary, quietly. “I think it is called after the reigning
+sovereign, whoever he may be. I got it, in exchange for some of our own
+money, from an emigrant from Europe, and kept it as a thing a little out
+of the common way.”
+
+The simplicity, distinctness, not to say nerve, with which this was
+said, placed Dunscomb still more at his ease, and he now freely let the
+enquiry take its course. All this did not prevent his being astonished
+that one so young, and seemingly so friendless, should manifest so much
+coolness and self-possession, under circumstances so very trying. Such
+was the fact, however; and he was fain to await further developments, in
+order better to comprehend the character of his client.
+
+“Is Mrs. Pope present?” enquired the coroner. “The lady who told us
+yesterday she had seen the specie of the late Mrs. Goodwin, during the
+life-time of the latter?”
+
+It was almost superfluous to ask if any particular person were present,
+as nearly all Biberry were in, or about, the court-house. Up started the
+widow, therefore, at this appeal, and coming forward with alacrity, she
+was immediately sworn, which she had not been the previous day, and went
+on the stand as a regular witness.
+
+“Your name?” observed the coroner.
+
+“Abigail Pope—folks write ‘relict of John Pope, deceased,’ in all my law
+papers.”
+
+“Very well, Mrs. Pope; the simple name will suffice for the present
+purposes. Do you reside in this neighbourhood?”
+
+“In Biberry. I was born, brought up, married, became a widow, and still
+dwell, all within half-a-mile of this spot. My maiden name was Dickson.”
+
+Absurd and forward as these answers may seem to most persons, they had
+an effect on the investigation that was then going on in Biberry. Most
+of the audience saw, and felt, the difference between the frank
+statements of the present witness, and the reserve manifested by the
+last.
+
+“Now, why couldn’t that Mary Monson answer all these questions, just as
+well as Abigail Pope?” said one female talker to a knot of listeners.
+“She has a glib enough tongue in her head, if she only sees fit to use
+it! I’ll engage no one can answer more readily, when she wishes to let a
+thing out. There’s a dreadful history behind the curtain, in my
+judgment, about that same young woman, could a body only get at it.”
+
+“Mr. Sanford _will_ get at it, before he has done with her, I’ll
+engage,” answered a friend. “I have heard it said he is the most
+investigating coroner in the state, when he sets about a case in good
+earnest. He’ll be very apt to make the most of this, for we never have
+had anything one-half so exciting in Biberry, as these murders! I have
+long thought we were rather out of the way of the rest of the world,
+until now; but our time has come, and we shan’t very soon hear the last
+of it!”
+
+“It’s all in the papers, already!” exclaimed a third. “Biberry looks as
+grand as York, or Albany, in the columns of every paper from town, this
+morning! I declare it did me good to see our little place holding up its
+head among the great of the earth, as it might be——”
+
+What else, in the way of local patriotism, may have escaped this
+individual, cannot now be known, the coroner drawing off her auditors,
+by the question next put to the widow.
+
+“Did you ever see any gold coins in the possession of the late Mrs.
+Goodwin?” asked that functionary.
+
+“Several times—I don’t know but I might say often. Five or six times, at
+least. I used to sew for the old lady, and you know how it is when a
+body works, in that way, in a family—it’s next thing, I do suppose, to
+being a doctor, so far as secrets go.”
+
+“Should you know any of that coin were you to see it again, Mrs. Pope?”
+
+“I think I might. There’s one piece, in partic’lar, that I suppose I
+should know, anywhere. It’s a wonderful looking piece of money, and true
+Californy, I conclude.”
+
+“Did any of Mrs. Goodwin’s gold coins bear a resemblance to this?”
+showing a half-eagle.
+
+“Yes, sir—that’s a five-dollar piece—I’ve had one of them myself, in the
+course of my life.”
+
+“Mrs. Goodwin had coins similar to this, I then understand you to say?”
+
+“She had as many as fifty, I should think. Altogether, she told me she
+had as much as four hundred dollars in that stocking! I remember the
+sum, for it sounded like a great deal for anybody to have, who wasn’t a
+bank, like. It quite put me in mind of the _place ers_.”
+
+“Was there any coin like this?” showing the widow the Italian piece.
+
+“That’s the piece! I’d know it among a thousand! I had it in my hands as
+much as five minutes, trying to read the Latin on it, and make it out
+into English. All the rest was American gold, the old lady told me; but
+this piece she said was foreign.”
+
+This statement produced a great sensation in the court-room. Although
+Mrs. Pope was flippant, a gossip, and a little notorious for meddling
+with her neighbours’ concerns, no one suspected her of fabricating such
+a story, under oath. The piece of gold passed from juror to juror; and
+each man among them felt satisfied that he would know the coin again,
+after an interval of a few weeks. Dunscomb probably put less faith in
+this bit of testimony, than any other person present; and he was curious
+to note its effect on his client. To his great surprise, she betrayed no
+uneasiness; her countenance maintaining a calm that he now began to
+apprehend denoted a practised art; and he manifested a desire to examine
+the piece of gold for himself. It was put in his hand, and he glanced at
+its face a little eagerly. It was an unusual coin; but it had no defect
+or mark that might enable one to distinguish between it and any other
+piece of a similar impression. The coroner interpreted the meaning of
+his eye, and suspended the examination of the widow, to question Mary
+Monson herself.
+
+“Your client sees the state of the question, Mr. Dunscomb,” he said;
+“and you will look to her rights. Mine authorize me, as I understand
+them, to enquire of her concerning a few facts in relation to this piece
+of money.”
+
+“I will answer your questions, sir, without any hesitation,” the accused
+replied, with a degree of steadiness that Dunscomb deemed astonishing.
+
+“How long has this piece of gold been in your possession, if you please,
+Miss?”
+
+“About a twelvemonth. I began to collect the gold I have, very nearly a
+year since.”
+
+“Has it been in your possession, uninterruptedly, all that time?”
+
+“So far as I know, sir, it has. A portion of the time, and a large
+portion of it, it has not been kept in my purse; but I should think no
+one could have meddled with it, when it has been elsewhere.”
+
+“Have you anything to remark on the testimony just given?”
+
+“It is strictly true. Poor Mrs. Goodwin certainly had the store of gold
+mentioned by Mrs. Pope, for she once showed it to me. I rather think she
+was fond of such things; and had a pleasure in counting her hoards, and
+showing them to other persons. I looked over her coins; and finding she
+was fond of those that are a little uncommon, I gave her one or two of
+those that I happened to own. No doubt, Mrs. Pope saw the counterpart of
+this piece, but surely not the piece itself.”
+
+“I understand you to say, then, that Mrs. Goodwin had a gold coin
+similar to this, which gold coin came from yourself. What did Mrs.
+Goodwin allow you in the exchange?”
+
+“Sir?”
+
+“How much did you estimate the value of that Italian piece at, and in
+what money did Mrs. Goodwin pay you for it? It is necessary to be
+particular in these cases.”
+
+“She returned me nothing for the coin, sir. It was a present from me to
+her, and of course not to be paid for.”
+
+This answer met with but little favour. It did not appear to the people
+of Biberry at all probable that an unknown, and seemingly friendless
+young woman, who had been content to dwell two months in the
+“garret-room” of the “old Goodwin house,” faring none of the best,
+certainly, and neglecting so many superior tenements and tables that
+were to be met with on every side of her, would be very likely to give
+away a piece of gold of that unusual size. It is true, we are living in
+a marvellous age, so far as this metal is concerned; but the Californian
+gold had not then arrived in any great quantity, and the people of the
+country are little accustomed to see anything but silver and paper,
+which causes them to attach an unwonted value to the more precious
+metal. Even the coroner took this view of the matter; and Dunscomb saw
+that the explanation just made by his client was thought to prove too
+much.
+
+“Are you in the habit, Miss, of giving away pieces of gold?” asked one
+of the jurors.
+
+“That question is improper,” interposed Mr. Dunscomb. “No one can have a
+right to put it.”
+
+The coroner sustained this objection, and no answer was given. As Mrs.
+Pope had suggested that others, besides herself, had seen Mrs. Goodwin’s
+stocking, four more witnesses were examined to this one point. They were
+all females, who had been admitted by the deceased, in the indulgence of
+her passion, to feast their eyes with a sight of her treasure. Only one,
+however, of these four professed to have any recollection of the
+particular coin that had now become, as it might be, the pivoting point
+in the enquiry; and her recollections were by no means as clear as those
+of the widow. She _thought_ she had seen such a piece of gold in Mrs.
+Goodwin’s possession, though she admitted she was not allowed to touch
+any of the money, which was merely held up, piece by piece, before her
+admiring eyes, in the hands of its proper owner. It was in this stage of
+the enquiry that Dunscomb remarked to the coroner, that “it was not at
+all surprising a woman who was so fond of exposing her treasure should
+be robbed and murdered!” This remark, however, failed of its intended
+effect, in consequence of the manner in which suspicion had become
+riveted, as it might be, through the testimony of Mrs. Pope, on the
+stranger who had so mysteriously come to lodge with the Goodwins. The
+general impression now appeared to be that the whole matter had been
+previously arranged, and that the stranger had come to dwell in the
+house expressly to obtain facilities for the commission of the crime.
+
+A witness who was related to the deceased, who was absent from home, but
+had been told, by means of the wires, to return, and who had intimated
+an intention to comply, was still wanting; and the inquest was again
+adjourned for an hour, in order to allow of the arrival of a stage from
+town. During this interval, Dunscomb ascertained how strongly the
+current was setting against his client. A hundred little circumstances
+were cited, in confirmation of suspicions that had now gained a firm
+footing, and which were so nearly general as to include almost every
+person of any consequence in the place. What appeared strangest to
+Dunscomb, was the composure of the young girl who was so likely to be
+formally accused of crimes so heinous. He had told her of the nature of
+the distrust that was attached to her situation, and she received his
+statement with a degree of emotion that, at first, had alarmed him. But
+an unaccountable calmness soon succeeded this burst of feeling, and he
+had found it necessary to draw confidence in the innocence of his
+client, from that strangely illuminated countenance, to study which was
+almost certain to subdue a man by its power. While thus gazing at the
+stranger, he could not believe her guilty; but, while reflecting on all
+the facts of the case, he saw how difficult it might be to persuade
+others to entertain the same opinion. Nor were there circumstances
+wanting to shake his own faith in expression, sex, years, and all the
+other probabilities. Mary Monson had declined entering at all into any
+account of her previous life; evaded giving her real name even to him;
+carefully abstained from all allusions that might furnish any clue to
+her former place of abode, or to any fact that would tend to betray her
+secret.
+
+At the appointed hour the stage arrived, bringing the expected witness.
+His testimony went merely to corroborate the accounts concerning the
+little hoard of gold that his kinswoman had undeniably possessed, and to
+the circumstance that she always kept it in a particular drawer of her
+bureau. The bureau had been saved, for it did not stand in the
+sleeping-room of the deceased, but had formed a principal embellishment
+of her little parlour, and the money was not in it. What was more, each
+drawer was carefully locked, but no keys were to be found. As these were
+articles not likely to be melted under any heat to which they might have
+been exposed, a careful but fruitless search had been made for them
+among the ruins. They were nowhere to be seen.
+
+About nine o’clock in the evening, the jury brought in the result of
+their inquest. It was a verdict of murder in the first degree,
+committed, in the opinion of the jurors, by a female who was known by
+the name of Mary Monson. With the accusation of arson, the coroner’s
+inquest, as a matter of course, had no connection. A writ was
+immediately issued, and the accused arrested.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER V.
+
+ “It was the English,” Kasper cried,
+ “Who put the French to rout;
+ But what they killed each other for,
+ I could not well make out.
+ But everybody said,” quoth he,
+ “That ’twas a famous victory.”
+ _Southey._
+
+
+The following day, after an early breakfast, Dunscomb and his friend the
+doctor were on their way back to town. The former had clients and
+courts, and the latter patients, who were not to be neglected, to say
+nothing of the claims of Sarah and Mrs. Updyke. John and Michael
+remained at Biberry; the first being detained there by divers
+commissions connected with the comforts and treatment of Mary Monson,
+but still more by his own inclinations; and the last remaining, somewhat
+against his wishes, as a companion to the brother of her who so strongly
+drew him back to New York.
+
+As the commitment was for offences so serious, crimes as grave as any
+known to the law, bail would not have been accepted, could any have been
+found. We ought not to speak with too much confidence, however, on this
+last point; for Dr. McBrain, a man of very handsome estate, the result
+of a liberal profession steadily and intelligently pursued, was more
+than half disposed to offer himself for one of the sureties, and to go
+and find a second among his friends. Nothing, indeed, prevented his
+doing so; but Dunscomb’s repeated assurances that no bondsmen would be
+received. Even charming young women, when they stand charged with murder
+and arson, must submit to be incarcerated, until their innocence is
+established in due form of law; or, what is the same thing in effect,
+until the caprice, impulses, ignorance, or corruption of a jury acquits
+them.
+
+The friends did not entirely agree in their manner of viewing this
+affair. The doctor was firmly impressed with the conviction of Mary
+Monson’s innocence; while Dunscomb, more experienced in the ways of
+crime and the infirmities of the human heart, had his misgivings. So
+many grounds of suspicion had occurred, or been laid open to his
+observation, during the hour of private communication, that it was not
+easy for one who had seen so much of the worst side of human nature, to
+cast them off under the mere influence of a graceful form, winning
+manner, and bright countenance. Then, the secondary facts, well
+established, and, in one important particular, admitted by the party
+accused, were not of a character to be overlooked. It often happens, and
+Dunscomb well knew it, that innocence appears under a repulsive
+exterior, while guilt conceals itself in forms and aspects so fair, as
+to deceive all but the wary and experienced.
+
+“I hope that the comfort of Miss Monson has been properly attended to,
+since she must be confined for a few days,” said McBrain, while he took
+a last look at the little gaol, as the carriage passed the brow of a
+hill. “Justice can ask no more than security.”
+
+“It is a blot on the character of the times, and on this country in
+particular,” answered Dunscomb, coldly, “that so little attention is
+paid to the gaols. We are crammed with false philanthropy in connection
+with convicted rogues, who ought to be made to feel the penalties of
+their offences; while we are not even just in regard to those who are
+only accused, many of whom are really innocent. But for my interference,
+this delicate and friendless girl would, in all probability, have been
+immured in a common dungeon.”
+
+“What! before her guilt is established?”
+
+“Relatively, her treatment after conviction, would be far more humane
+than previously to that event. Comfortable, well-furnished, but secure
+apartments, ought to be provided for the accused in every county in the
+state, as acts of simple justice, before another word of mawkish
+humanity is uttered on the subject of the treatment of recognised
+criminals. It is wonderful what a disposition there is among men to run
+into octaves, in everything they do, forgetting that your true melody is
+to be found only in the simpler and more natural notes. There is as much
+of the _falsetto_, now-a-days, in philanthropy, as in music.”
+
+“And this poor girl is thrust into a dungeon?”
+
+“No; it is not quite as bad as that. The gaol has one decent apartment,
+that was fitted up for the comfort of a prize-fighter, who was confined
+in it not long since; and as the room is sufficiently secure, I have
+persuaded the gaoler’s wife to put Mary Monson in it. Apart from loss of
+air and exercise, and the happiness of knowing herself respected and
+beloved, the girl will not be very badly off there. I dare say, the room
+is quite as good as that she occupied under the roof of those
+unfortunate Goodwins.”
+
+“How strange, that a female of her appearance should have been the
+inmate of such a place! She does not seem to want money, either. You saw
+the gold she had in her purse?”
+
+“Ay; it were better had that gold not been there, or not seen. I
+sincerely wish it had been nothing but silver.”
+
+“You surely do not agree with that silly woman, the Widow Pope, as they
+call her, in believing that she has got the money of those persons who
+have been murdered?”
+
+“On that subject, I choose to suspend my opinion—I may, or I may not; as
+matters shall turn up. She has money; and in sufficient quantity to buy
+herself out of jeopardy. At least, she offered me a fee of a hundred
+dollars, in good city paper.”
+
+“Which you did not take, Tom?”
+
+“Why not? It is my trade, and I live by it. Why not take her fee, if you
+please, sir? Does the Widow Updyke teach you such doctrines? Will you
+drive about town for nothing? Why not take her fee, Master Ned?”
+
+“Why not, sure enough! That girl has bewitched me, I believe; and that
+is the solution.”
+
+“I’ll tell you what, Ned, unless there is a stop put to this folly, I’ll
+make Mrs. Updyke acquainted with the whole matter, and put an end to
+nuptials No. 3. Jack is head and ears in love, already; and here you are
+flying off at a tangent from all your engagements and professions, to
+fall at the feet of an unknown girl of twenty, who appears before you,
+on a first interview, in the amiable light of one accused of the highest
+crimes.”
+
+“And of which I no more believe her guilty, than I believe you to be
+guilty of them.”
+
+“Umph! ‘Time will show;’ which is the English, I suppose, of the ‘_nous
+verrons_,’ that is flying about in the newspapers. Yes, she has money to
+buy three or four journals, to get up a ‘sympathy’ in her behalf; when
+her acquittal would be almost certain, if her trial were not a legal
+impossibility. I am not sure it is not her safest course, in the actual
+state of the facts.”
+
+“Would you think, Dunscomb, of advising any one who looked up to you for
+counsel, to take such a course?”
+
+“Certainly not—and you know it, well enough, McBrain; but that does not
+lessen, or increase, the chances of the expedient. The journals have
+greatly weakened their own power, by the manner in which they have
+abused it; but enough still remains to hoodwink, not to say to
+overshadow, justice. The law is very explicit and far-sighted as to the
+consequences of allowing any one to influence the public mind in matters
+of its own administration; but in a country like this, in which the
+virtue and intelligence of the people are said to be the _primum mobile_
+in everything, there is no one to enforce the ordinances that the wisdom
+of our ancestors has bequeathed to us. Any editor of a newspaper who
+publishes a sentence reflecting on the character or rights of a party to
+a pending suit, is guilty, at common law, of what the books call a
+‘libel on the courts of justice,’ and can be punished for it, as for any
+other misdemeanor; yet, you can see for yourself, how little such a
+provision, healthful and most wise—nay, essential as it is to justice—is
+looked down by the mania which exists, of putting everything into print.
+When one remembers that very little of what he reads is true, it is
+fearful to reflect that a system, of which the whole merit depends on
+its power to extract facts, and to do justice on their warranty, should
+be completely overshadowed by another contrivance which, when stripped
+of its pretension, and regarded in its real colours, is nothing more
+than one of the ten thousand schemes to make money that surround us,
+with a little higher pretension than common to virtue.”
+
+“‘Completely overshadowed’ are strong words, Dunscomb!”
+
+“Perhaps they are, and they may need a little qualifying. Overshadowed
+often—much too often, however, is not a particle stronger than I am
+justified in using. Every one, who thinks at all, sees and feels the
+truth of this; but here is the weak side of a popular government. The
+laws are enforced by means of public virtue, and public virtue, like
+private virtue, is very frail. We all are willing enough to admit the
+last, as regards our neighbours at least, while there seems to exist, in
+most minds, a species of idolatrous veneration for the common sentiment,
+as sheer a quality of straw, as any image of a lover drawn by the most
+heated imagination of sixteen.”
+
+“You surely do not disregard public opinion, Tom, or set it down as
+unworthy of all respect!”
+
+“By no means; if you mean that opinion which is the result of deliberate
+judgment, and has a direct connection with our religion, morals, and
+manners. That is a public opinion to which we all ought to defer, when
+it is fairly made up, and has been distinctly and independently
+pronounced; most especially when it comes from high quarters, and not
+from low. But the country is full of simulated public opinion, in the
+first place, and it is not always easy to tell the false from the true.
+Yes, the country is full of what I shall call an artificial public
+opinion, that has been got up to effect a purpose, and to that no wise
+man will defer, if he can help it. Now, look at our scheme of
+administering justice. Twelve men taken out of the bosom of the
+community, by a species of lottery, are set apart to pronounce on your
+fortune, or mine—nay, to utter the fearful words of ‘guilty,’ or ‘not
+guilty.’ All the accessories of this plan, as they exist here, make
+against its success. In the first place, the jurors are paid, and that
+just enough to induce the humblest on the list to serve, and not enough
+to induce the educated and intelligent. It is a day-labourer’s wages,
+and the day-labourer will be most likely to profit by it. Men who are
+content to toil for seventy-five cents a day are very willing to serve
+on juries for a dollar; while those whose qualifications enable them to
+obtain enough to pay their fines, disregard the penalty, and stay away.”
+
+“Why is not an evil as flagrant as this remedied? I should think the
+whole bar would protest against it.”
+
+“With what result? Who cares for the bar? Legislators alone can change
+this system, and men very different from those who are now sent must go
+to the legislature, before one is found, honest enough, or bold enough,
+to get up and tell the people they are not all fit to be trusted. No,
+no; this is not the way of the hour. We have a cycle in opinion to make,
+and it may be that when the round is fairly made, men may come back to
+their senses, and perceive the necessity of fencing in justice by some
+of the useful provisions that we are now so liberally throwing away. To
+tell you the truth, Ned, the state is submitting to the influence of two
+of the silliest motives that can govern men—ultra conservatism, and
+ultra progress; the one holding back, often, to preserve that which is
+not worth keeping; and the other ‘going ahead,’ as it is termed, merely
+for the sake of boasting of their onward tendencies. Neither course is
+in the least suited to the actual wants of society, and each is
+pernicious in its way.”
+
+“It is thought, however, that when opinion thus struggles with opinion,
+a healthful compromise is made, in which society finds its advantage.”
+
+“The cant of mediocrity, depend on it, Ned. In the first place, there is
+no compromise about it; one side or the other gains the victory; and as
+success is sustained by numbers, the conquerors push their advantages to
+the utmost. They think of their own grosser interests, their passions
+and prejudices, rather than of any ‘healthful compromise,’ as you term
+it. What compromise is there in this infernal code?”—Dunscomb was an
+ultra himself, in opposition to a system that has a good deal of that
+which is useful, diluted by more that is not quite so good—“or what in
+this matter of the election of judges by the people? As respects the
+last, for instance, had the tenure of office been made ‘good behaviour,’
+there would have been something like a compromise; but, no—the
+conquerors took all; and what is worse, the conquerors were actually a
+minority of the voters, so easy is it to cow even numbers by political
+chicanery. In this respect, democracy is no more infallible, than any
+other form of government.”
+
+“I confess, I do not see how this is shown, since the polls were free to
+every citizen.”
+
+“The result fairly proves it. Less than half of the known number of the
+electors voted for the change. Now, it is absurd to suppose that men who
+really and affirmatively wished a new constitution would stay away from
+the polls.”
+
+“More so, than to suppose that they who did not wish it, would stay
+away, too?”
+
+“More so; and for this reason. Thousands fancied it useless to stem the
+current of what they fancied a popular movement, and were passive in the
+matter. Any man, of an extensive acquaintance, may easily count a
+hundred such idlers. Then a good many stood on their legal rights, and
+refused to vote, because the manner of producing the change was a
+palpable violation of a previous contract; the old constitution pointing
+out the manner in which the instrument could be altered, which was not
+the mode adopted. Then tens of thousands voted for the new constitution,
+who did not know anything about it. They loved change, and voted for
+change’s sake; and, possibly, with some vague notion that they were to
+be benefited by making the institutions as popular as possible.”
+
+“And is not this the truth? Will not the mass be all the better off, by
+exercising as much power as they can?”
+
+“No; and for the simple reason that masses cannot, in the nature of
+things, exercise more than a very limited power. You, yourself, for
+instance, one of the mass, cannot exercise this very power of choosing a
+judge, as it ought to be exercised, and of course are liable to do more
+harm than good.”
+
+“The deuce I cannot! Why is not my vote as good as your own? or that of
+any other man?”
+
+“For the simple reason, that you are ignorant of the whole matter. Ask
+yourself the question, and answer it like an honest man: would
+you—_could_ you, with the knowledge you possess, lay your finger on any
+man in this community, and say, ‘I make you a judge?’”
+
+“Yes; my finger would be laid on you, in a minute.”
+
+“Ah, Ned, that will do, as a friend; but how would it do as a judicious
+selection of a judge you do not know? You are ignorant of the law, and
+must necessarily be ignorant of the qualifications of any particular
+person to be an interpreter of it. What is true of you, is equally true
+of a vast majority of those who are now the electors of our judges.”
+
+“I am not a little surprised, Tom, to hear _you_ talk in this way; for
+you profess to be a democrat!”
+
+“To the extent of giving the people all power, in the last resort—all
+power that they can intelligently and usefully use; but not to the
+extent of permitting them to make the laws, to execute the laws, and to
+interpret the laws. All that the people want, is sufficient power to
+secure their liberties, which is simply such a state of things as shall
+secure what is right between man and man. Now, it is the want of this
+all-important security, in a practical point of view, of which I
+complain. Rely on it, Ned, the people gain nothing by exercising an
+authority that they do not know how to turn to good account. It were far
+better for them, and for the state, to confine themselves to the choice
+of general agents, of whose characters they may know something, and then
+confide all other powers to servants appointed by those named by these
+agents, holding all alike to a rigid responsibility. As for the judges,
+they will soon take decided party characters; and men will as blindly
+accuse, and as blindly defend them, as they now do their other leading
+partisans. What between the bench and the jury-box, we shall shortly
+enjoy a legal pandemonium.”
+
+“Yet there are those who think the trial by jury is the palladium of our
+liberties.”
+
+Dunscomb laughed outright, for he recollected his conversation with the
+young men, which we have already related. Then suppressing his risible
+propensity, he continued gravely—
+
+“Yes, one or two papers, well fee’d by this young woman’s spare cash,
+might do her more good than any service I can render her. I dare say the
+accounts now published, or soon to be published, will leave a strong
+bias against her.”
+
+“Why not fee a reporter as well as a lawyer, eh, Tom? There is no great
+difference, as I can see.”
+
+“Yes you can, and will, too, as soon as you look into the matter. A
+lawyer is paid for a known and authorized assistance, and the public
+recognises in him one engaged in the interests of his client, and
+accepts his statements and efforts accordingly. But the conductor of a
+public journal sets up a claim to strict impartiality, in his very
+profession, and should tell nothing but what he believes to be true,
+neither inventing nor suppressing. In his facts, he is merely the
+publisher of a record; in his reasoning, a judge; not an advocate.”
+
+The doctor now laughed, in his turn, and well he might; few men being so
+ignorant as not to understand how far removed from all this are most of
+those who control the public journals.
+
+“After all, it is a tremendous power to confide to irresponsible men!”
+he exclaimed.
+
+“That it is, and there is nothing among us that so completely
+demonstrates how far, very far, the public mind is in the rear of the
+facts of the country, than the blind, reckless manner in which the press
+is permitted to tyrannize over the community, in the midst of all our
+hosannas to the Goddess of Liberty. Because, forsooth, what is termed a
+free press is useful, and has been useful in curbing an irresponsible,
+hereditary power, in other lands, we are just stupid enough to think it
+is of equal importance here, where no such power exists, and where all
+that remains to be done, is to strictly maintain the equal rights of all
+classes of citizens. Did we understand ourselves, and our own real
+wants, not a paper should be printed in the state, that did not make a
+deposit to meet the legal penalties it might incur by the abuse of its
+trust. This is or was done in France, the country of all others that
+best respects equality of rights in theory, if not in practice!”
+
+“You surely would not place restrictions on the press!”
+
+“I would though, and very severe restrictions, as salutary checks on the
+immense power it wields. I would, for instance, forbid the publication
+of any statement whatever, touching parties in the courts, whether in
+civil or criminal cases, pending the actions, that the public mind might
+not be tainted, by design. Give the right to publish, and it will be,
+and is abused, and that most flagrantly, to meet the wishes of
+corruption. I tell you, Ned, as soon as you make a trade of news, you
+create a stock market that will have its rise and fall, under the
+impulses of fear, falsehood, and favour, just like your money
+transactions. It is a perversion of the nature of things, to make of
+news more than a simple statement of what has actually occurred.”
+
+“It is surely natural to lie!”
+
+“That is it, and this is the very reason we should not throw
+extraordinary protection around a thousand tongues which speak by means
+of types, that we do not give to the natural member. The lie that is
+told by the press is ten thousand times a lie, in comparison with that
+which issues from the mouth of man.”
+
+“By George, Tom, if I had your views, I would see that some of this
+strange young woman’s money should be used in sustaining her, by means
+of the agents you mention!”
+
+“That would never do. This is one of the cases in which ‘want of
+principle’ has an ascendancy over ‘principle.’ The upright man cannot
+consent to use improper instruments, while the dishonest fellows seize
+on them with avidity. So much the greater, therefore, is the necessity
+for the law’s watching the interests of the first with the utmost
+jealousy. But, unfortunately, we run away with the sound, and overlook
+the sense of things.”
+
+We have related this conversation at a length which a certain class of
+our readers will probably find tedious, but it is necessary to a right
+comprehension of various features in the picture we are about to draw.
+At the Stag’s Head the friends stopped to let the horses blow, and,
+while the animals were cooling themselves under the care of Stephen
+Hoof, McBrain’s coachman, the gentlemen took a short walk in the hamlet.
+At several points, as they moved along, they overheard the subject of
+the murders alluded to, and saw divers newspapers, in the hands of
+sundry individuals, who were eagerly perusing accounts of the same
+events; sometimes by themselves, but oftener to groups of attentive
+listeners. The travellers were now so near town as to be completely
+within its moral, not to say physical, atmosphere—being little more than
+a suburb of New York. On their return to the inn, the doctor stopped
+under the shed to look at his horses, before Stephen checked them up
+again, previously to a fresh start. Stephen was neither an Irishman nor
+a black; but a regular, old-fashioned, Manhattannese coachman; a class
+apart, and of whom, in the confusion of tongues that pervades that
+modern Babel, a few still remain, like monuments of the past, scattered
+along the Appian Way.
+
+“How do your horses stand the heat, Stephen?” the doctor kindly
+enquired, always speaking of the beasts as if they were the property of
+the coachman, and not of himself. “Pill looks as if he had been well
+warmed this morning.”
+
+“Yes, sir, he takes it somewhat hotter than Poleus, in the spring of the
+year, as a gineral thing. Pill vill vork famously, if a body vill only
+give him his feed in vhat I calls a genteel vay; but them ’ere country
+taverns has nothing nice about ’em, not even a clean manger; and a town
+horse that is accustomed to a sweet stable and proper company, won’t
+stand up to the rack as he should do, in one of their holes. Now, Poleus
+I calls a gineral feeder; it makes no matter vith him vhether he is at
+home, or out on a farm—he finishes his oats, but it isn’t so vith Pill,
+sir—his stomach is delicate, and the horse that don’t get his proper
+food vill sweat, summer or vinter.”
+
+“I sometimes think, Stephen, it might be better to take them both off
+their oats for a few days, and let blood, perhaps; they say that the
+fleam is as good for a horse as the lancet is for a man.”
+
+“Do n’t think on’t, sir, I beg of you! I’m sure they has doctor-stuff in
+their names, not to crowd ’em down vith any more, jist as varm veather
+is a settin’ in. Oats is physic enough for a horse, and vhen the
+creaturs vants anything more, sir, jist leave ’em to me. I knows as
+peculiar a drench as ever vas poured down a vheeler’s throat, vithout
+troublin’ that academy in Barclay street, vhere so many gentlemen goes
+two or three times a veek, and vhere they do say, so many goes in as
+never comes out whole.”
+
+“Well, Stephen, I’ll not interfere with your treatment, for I confess to
+very little knowledge of the diseases of horses. What have you got in
+the paper there, that I see you have been reading?”
+
+“Vhy, sir,” answered Stephen, scratching his head, “it’s all about our
+affair, up yonder.”
+
+“Our affair! Oh! you mean the inquest, and the murder. Well, what does
+the paper say about it, Hoof?”
+
+“It says it’s a most ‘thrilling a’count,’ sir, and an ‘awful tragedy’;
+and it vonders vhat young vomen is a coming to, next. I am pretty much
+of the same vay of thinking, sir, myself.”
+
+“You are in the habit of thinking very much as the newspapers do, are
+you not, Stephen?” asked Dunscomb.
+
+“Vell, ’Squire Dunscomb, you’ve hit it! There is an onaccountable
+resemblance, like, in our thoughts. I hardly ever set down to read a
+paper, that, afore I’ve got half vay through it, I find it thinking just
+as I do! It puzzles me to know how them that writes for these papers
+finds out a body’s thoughts so vell!”
+
+“They have a way of doing it; but it is too long a story to go over now.
+So this paper has something to say about our young woman, has it,
+Stephen? and it mentions the Biberry business?”
+
+“A good deal, ’Squire; and vhat I calls good sense, too Vhy, gentlemen,
+vhat shall we all come to, if young gals of fifteen can knock us in the
+head, matched, like, or in pairs, killing a whole team at one blow, and
+then set fire to the stables, and burn us up to our anatomies?”
+
+“Fifteen! Does your account say that Miss Monson is only fifteen, Hoof?”
+
+“‘She appears to be of the tender age of fifteen, and is of extr’ornary
+personal attractions.’ Them’s the werry vords, sir; but perhaps you’d
+like to read it yourselves, gentlemen?”
+
+As Stephen made this remark, he very civilly offered the journal to
+Dunscomb, who took it; but was not disposed to drop the conversation
+just then to read it, though his eye did glance at the article, as he
+continued the subject. This was a habit with him; his clerks often
+saying, he could carry the chains of arguments of two subjects in his
+mind at the same moment. His present object, was to ascertain from this
+man what might be the popular feeling in regard to his client, at the
+place they had just left, and the scene of the events themselves.
+
+“What is thought and said, at Biberry, among those with whom you talked,
+Stephen, concerning this matter?”
+
+“That it’s a most awful ewent, ’Squire! One of the werry vorst that has
+happened in these werry vicked times, sir. I heard one gentleman go over
+all the murders that has taken place about York during these last ten
+years, and a perdigious sight on ’em there vas; so many, that I began to
+vonder I vasn’t one of the wictims myself; but he counted ’em off on his
+fingers, and made this out to be one of the werry vorst of ’em all, sir.
+He did, indeed, sir.”
+
+“Was he a reporter, Stephen? one of the persons who are sent out by the
+papers to collect news?”
+
+“I believe he vas, sir. Quite a gentleman; and vith something to say to
+all he met. He often came out to the stables, and had a long
+conwersation vith as poor a feller as I be.”
+
+“Pray, what could he have to say to you, Stephen?” demanded the doctor,
+a little gravely.
+
+“Oh! lots of things, sir. He began by praising the horses, and asking
+their names. I give him _my_ names, sir, not _yourn_; for I thought he
+might get it into print, somehow, that Dr. McBrain calls his
+coach-horses after his physic, Pill and Poleus”—“Bolus,” was the real
+appellation that the owner had been pleased to give this beast; but as
+Stephen fancied the word had some connection with “pole-horse,” he chose
+to pronounce it as written—“Yes, I didn’t vish _your_ names to get into
+the papers, sir; and so I told him ‘Pill’ vas called ‘Marygoold,’ and
+‘Poleus,’ ‘Dandelion.’ He promised an article about ’em, sir; and I give
+him the ages, blood, sires, and dams, of both the beauties. He told me
+he thought the names delightful; and I’m in hopes, sir, you’ll give up
+_yourn_, arter all, and take to _mine_, altogether.”
+
+“We shall see. And he promised an article, did he?”
+
+“Yes, sir, quite woluntary. I know’d that the horses couldn’t be
+outdone, and told him as much as that; for I thought, as the subject vas
+up, it might be as vell to do ’em all the credit I could. Perhaps, vhen
+they gets to be too old for vork, you might vish to part vith ’em, sir,
+and then a good newspaper character could do ’em no great harm.”
+
+Stephen was a particularly honest fellow, as to things in general; but
+he had the infirmity which seems to be so general among men, that of a
+propensity to cheat in a transfer of horse-flesh. Dunscomb was amused at
+this exhibition of character, of which he had seen so much in his day,
+and felt disposed to follow it up.
+
+“I believe you had some difficulty in choosing one of the horses,
+Stephen”—McBrain commissioned his coachman to do all the bargaining of
+this sort, and had never lost a cent by his confidence—“Pill, I think it
+was, that didn’t bring as good a character as he might have done?”
+
+“Beg your pardon, ’Squire, ’twas n’t he, but Marygoold. Vhy, the thing
+vas this: a gentleman of the church had bought Marygoold to go in a
+buggy; but soon vanted to part vith him, ’cause of his shyin’ in single
+harness, vhich frightened his vife, _as he said_. Now, all the
+difficulty vas in this one thing: not that I cared at all about the
+creatur’s shyin’, vhich vas no great matter in double harness, you know,
+sir, and a body could soon coax him out of the notion on it, by
+judgematical drivin’; but the difficulty vas here—if the owner of a
+horse owned so much ag’in his character, there must be a great deal
+behind, that a feller must find out as vell as he could. I’ve know’d a
+foundered animal put off under a character for shyin’.”
+
+“And the owner a clergyman, Stephen?”
+
+“Perhaps not, sir. But it makes no great matter in tradin’ horses;
+church and the vorld is much of a muchness.”
+
+“Did that reporting gentleman ask any questions concerning the owner, as
+well as concerning the horses?”
+
+“Vhy, yes, sir; vhen he vas done vith the animals, he did make a few
+obserwations about the doctor. He vanted to know if he vas married yet,
+and vhen it vas to happen; and how much I thought he might be vorth, and
+how much Mrs. Updyke vas counted for; and if there vas children; and
+vhich house the family vas to live in; and vhere he should keep the
+slate, arter the veddin’ had come off; and how much the doctor’s
+practice vas vorth; and vhether he vas vhig or locy; and, most of all,
+he vanted to know vhy he and you, sir, should go to Biberry about this
+murder.”
+
+“What did you tell him, Stephen, in reference to the last?”
+
+“Vhat could I, sir? I don’t know, myself. I’ve druv’ the doctor often
+and often to see them that has died soon arter our wisit; but I never
+druv’ him, afore, to wisit the dead. That gentleman seemed to think he
+vas much mistaken about the skeletons; but it’s all in the paper, sir.”
+
+On hearing this, Dunscomb quickly turned to the columns of the journal
+again, and was soon reading their contents aloud to his friend; in the
+meantime, Stephen set Marygoold and Dandelion in motion once more.
+
+The account was much as Dunscomb expected to find it; so written as to
+do no possible good, while it might do a great deal of harm. The
+intention was to feed a morbid feeling in the vulgar for exaggerated
+accounts of the shocking—the motive being gain. Anything that would
+sell, was grist for this mill; and the more marvellous and terrible the
+history of the event could be made, the greater was the success likely
+to be. The allusions to Mary Monson were managed with a good deal of
+address; for, while there was a seeming respect for her rights, the
+reader was left to infer that her guilt was not only beyond a question,
+but of the darkest dye. It was while reading and commenting on these
+articles, that the carriage entered Broadway, and soon set Dunscomb down
+at his own door. There the doctor left it; choosing to walk as far as
+Mrs. Updyke’s, rather than give Stephen more materials for the reporter.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER VI.
+
+ “Then none was for a party;
+ Then all were for the state;
+ Then the great man help’d the poor,
+ And the poor man lov’d the great:
+ Then lands were fairly portion’d;
+ Then spoils were fairly sold;
+ The Romans were like brothers
+ In the brave days of old.”
+ _Macaulay._
+
+
+It has been said that John Wilmeter was left by his uncle at Bilberry,
+to look after the welfare of their strange client. John, or Jack, as he
+was commonly called by his familiars, including his pretty sister, was
+in the main a very good fellow, though far from being free from the
+infirmities to which the male portion of the human family are subject,
+when under the age of thirty. He was frank, manly, generous, disposed to
+think for himself, and what is somewhat unusual with his countrymen, of
+a temperament that led him to make up his mind suddenly, and was not to
+be easily swayed by the notions that might be momentarily floating about
+in the neighbourhood. Perhaps a little of a spirit of opposition to the
+feeling that was so rapidly gaining head in Biberry, inclined him to
+take a warmer interest in the singular female who stood charged with
+such enormous crimes, than he might otherwise have done.
+
+The instructions left by Mr. Dunscomb with his nephew, also gave the
+latter some uneasiness. In the first place, they had been very ample and
+thoughtful on the subject of the prisoner’s comforts, which had been
+seen to in a way that is by no means common in a gaol. Money had been
+used pretty freely in effecting this object, it is true; but, out of the
+large towns, money passes for much less on such occasions, in America,
+than in most other countries. The people are generally kind-hearted, and
+considerate for the wants of others; and fair words will usually do
+quite as much as dollars. Dunscomb, however, had made a very judicious
+application of both, and beyond the confinement and the fearful nature
+of the charges brought against her, Mary Monson had very little to
+complain of in her situation.
+
+The part of his instructions which gave John Wilmeter most uneasiness,
+which really vexed him, related to the prisoner’s innocence or guilt.
+The uncle distrusted; the nephew was all confidence. While the first had
+looked at the circumstances coolly, and was, if anything, leaning to the
+opinion that there might be truth in the charges; the last beheld in
+Mary Monson an attractive young person of the other sex, whose innocent
+countenance was the pledge of an innocent soul. To John, it was
+preposterous to entertain a charge of this nature against one so
+singularly gifted.
+
+“I should as soon think of accusing Sarah of such dark offences, as of
+accusing this young lady!” exclaimed John to his friend Michael
+Millington, while the two were taking their breakfast next day. “It is
+preposterous—wicked—monstrous, to suppose that a young, educated female,
+would, or could, commit such crimes! Why, Mike, she understands French
+and Italian, and Spanish; and I think it quite likely that she can also
+read German, if, indeed, she cannot speak it!”
+
+“How do you know this?—Has she been making a display of her knowledge?”
+
+“Not in the least—it all came out as naturally as possible. She asked
+for some of her own books to read, and when they were brought to her, I
+found that she had selected works in all four of these languages. I was
+quite ashamed of my own ignorance, I can assure you; which amounts to no
+more than a smattering of French, in the face of her Spanish, Italian
+and German!”
+
+“Poh! I shouldn’t have minded it, in the least,” Michael very coolly
+replied, his mouth being half-full of beefsteak. “The girls lead us in
+such things, of course. No man dreams of keeping up with a young lady
+who has got into the living languages. Miss Wilmeter might teach us
+both, and laugh at our ignorance, in the bargain.”
+
+“Sarah! Ay, she is a good enough girl, in her _way_—but no more to be
+compared——”
+
+Jack Wilmeter stopped short, for Millington dropped his knife with not a
+little clatter, on his plate, and was gazing at his friend in a sort of
+fierce astonishment.
+
+“You don’t dream of comparing your sister to this unknown and suspected
+stranger!” at length Michael got out, speaking very much like one whose
+head has been held under water until his breath was nearly exhausted.
+“You ought to recollect, John, that virtue should never be brought
+unnecessarily in contact with vice.”
+
+“Mike, and do you, too, believe in the guilt of Mary Monson?”
+
+“I believe that she is committed under a verdict given by an inquest,
+and think it best to suspend my opinion as to the main fact, in waiting
+for further evidence. Remember, Jack, how often your uncle has told us
+that, after all, good witnesses were the gist of the law. Let us wait
+and see what a trial may bring forth.”
+
+Young Wilmeter covered his face with his hands, bowed his head to the
+table, and ate not another morsel that morning. His good sense
+admonished him of the prudence of the advice just given; while feelings,
+impetuous, and excited almost to fierceness, impelled him to go forth
+and war on all who denied the innocence of the accused. To own the
+truth, John Wilmeter was fast becoming entangled in the meshes of love.
+
+And, sooth to say, notwithstanding the extreme awkwardness of her
+situation, the angry feeling that was so fast rising up against her in
+Biberry and its vicinity, and the general mystery that concealed her
+real name, character and history, there was that about Mary Monson, in
+her countenance, other personal advantages, and most of all in her
+manner and voice, that might well catch the fancy of a youth of warm
+feelings, and through his fancy, sooner or later, touch his heart. As
+yet, John was only under the influence of the new-born sentiment, and
+had he now been removed from Biberry, it is probable that the feelings
+and interest which had been so suddenly and powerfully awakened in him
+would have passed away altogether, or remained in shadow on his memory,
+as a melancholy and yet pleasant record of hours past, under
+circumstances in which men live fast, if they do not always live well.
+Little did the uncle think of the great danger to which he exposed his
+nephew, when he placed him, like a sentinel in law, on duty near the
+portal of his immured client. But the experienced Dunscomb was anxious
+to bring John into active life, and to place him in situations that
+might lead him to think and execute for himself; and it had been much
+his practice, of late, to put the young man forward, when ever
+circumstances would admit of it. Although the counsellor was more than
+at his ease in fortune, and John and Sarah each possessed very
+respectable means, that placed them altogether above dependence, he was
+exceedingly anxious that his nephew should succeed to his own business,
+as the surest mode of securing his happiness and respectability in a
+community where the number of the idle is relatively so small as to
+render the pursuits of a class that is by no means without its uses,
+where it can be made to serve the tastes and manners of a country,
+difficult of attainment. He had the same desire in behalf of his niece,
+or that she should become the wife of a man who had something to do; and
+the circumstance that Millington, though of highly reputable
+connections, was almost entirely without fortune, was no objection in
+his eyes to the union that Sarah was so obviously inclined to form. The
+two young men had been left on the ground, therefore, to take care of
+the interests of a client whom Dunscomb was compelled to admit was one
+that interested him more than any other in whose services he had ever
+been employed, strongly as he was disposed to fear that appearances
+might be deceitful.
+
+Our young men were not idle. In addition to doing all that was in their
+power to contribute to the personal comforts of Miss Monson, they were
+active and intelligent in obtaining, and making notes of, all the facts
+that had been drawn out by the coroner’s inquest, or which could be
+gleaned in the neighbourhood. These facts, or rumours, John classed into
+the “proved,” the “reported,” the “probable” and the “improbable;”
+accompanying each division with such annotations as made a very useful
+sort of brief for any one who wished to push the inquiries further.
+
+“There, Millington,” he said when they reached the gaol, on their return
+from a walk as far as the ruins of the house which had been burnt, and
+after they had dined, “there; I think we have done tolerably well for
+one day, and are in a fair way to give uncle Tom a pretty full account
+of this miserable business. The more I see and learn of it, the more I
+am convinced of the perfect innocence of the accused. I trust it strikes
+you in the same way, Mike?”
+
+But Mike was by no means as sanguine as his friend. He smiled faintly at
+this question, and endeavoured to evade a direct answer. He saw how
+lively were the hopes of Tom, and how deeply his feelings were getting
+to be interested in the matter, while his own judgment, influenced,
+perhaps, by Mr. Dunscomb’s example, greatly inclined him to the worst
+foreboding of the result. Still he had an honest satisfaction in saying
+anything that might contribute to the gratification of Sarah’s brother,
+and a good opportunity now offering, he did not let it escape him.
+
+“There is one thing, Jack, that seems to have been strangely
+overlooked,” he said, “and out of which some advantage may come, if it
+be thoroughly sifted. You may remember it was stated by some of the
+witnesses, that there was a German woman in the family of the Goodwins,
+the day that preceded the fire—one employed in housework?”
+
+“Now you mention it, I do! Sure enough; what has become of that woman?”
+
+“While you were drawing your diagram of the ruins, and projecting your
+plan of the out-buildings, garden, fields and so on, I stepped across to
+the nearest house, and had a chat with the ladies. You may remember I
+told you it was to get a drink of milk; but I saw petticoats, and
+thought something might be learned from woman’s propensity to talk?”
+
+“I know you left me, but was too busy, just then, to see on what errand,
+or whither you went.”
+
+“It was to the old stone farm-house that stands only fifty rods from the
+ruins. The family in possession is named Burton, and a more talkative
+set I never encountered in petticoats.”
+
+“How many had you to deal with, Mike?” John enquired, running his eyes
+over his notes as he asked the question, in a way that showed how little
+he anticipated from this interview with the Burtons. “If more than one
+of the garrulous set I pity you, for I had a specimen of them yesterday
+morning myself, in a passing interview.”
+
+“There were three talkers, and one silent body. As is usual, I thought
+that the silent member of the house knew more than the speakers, if she
+had been inclined to let out her knowledge.”
+
+“Ay, that is a way we have of judging of one another; but it is as often
+false as true. As many persons are silent because they have nothing to
+say, as because they are reflecting; and of those who _look_ very wise,
+about one-half, as near as I can judge, _look_ so as a sort of apology
+for being very silly.”
+
+“I can’t say how it was with Mrs. Burton, the silent member of the
+family, in this case; but I do know that her three worthy sisters-in-law
+are to be classed among the foolish virgins.”
+
+“Had they no oil to trim their lamps withal?”
+
+“It had all been used to render their tongues limber. Never did three
+damsels pour out words in so full a rivulet, as I was honoured with for
+the first five minutes. By the end of that time, I was enabled to put a
+question or two; after which they were better satisfied to let me
+interrogate, while they were content to answer.”
+
+“Did you learn anything, Mike, to reward you for all this trouble?”
+again glancing at his notes.
+
+“I think I did. With a good deal of difficulty in _eliminating_ the
+surplussage, if I may coin a word for the occasion, I got these
+facts:—It would seem that the German woman was a newly-arrived
+immigrant, who had strolled into the country, and offered to work for
+her food, &c. Mrs. Goodwin usually attended to all her own domestic
+matters; but she had an attack of the rheumatism that predisposed her to
+receive this offer, and that so much the more willingly, because the
+‘help’ was not to be paid. It appears that the deceased female was an
+odd mixture of miserly propensities with a love of display. She hoarded
+all she could lay her hands on, and took a somewhat uncommon pleasure in
+showing her hoards to her neighbours. In consequence of this last
+weakness, the whole neighbourhood knew not only of her gold, for she
+turned every coin into that metal, before it was consigned to her
+stocking; but of the amount to a dollar, and the place where she kept
+it. In this all agreed, even to the silent matron.”
+
+“And what has become of this German woman?” asked John closing his notes
+with sudden interest. “Why was she not examined before the inquest? and
+where is she now?”
+
+“No one knows. She has been missing ever since the fire and a few fancy
+that she may, after all, be the person who has done the whole mischief.
+It does wear a strange look, that no trace can be heard of her!”
+
+“This must be looked into closely, Mike. It is unaccountably strange
+that more was not said of her before the coroner. Yet, I fear one thing,
+too. Dr. McBrain is a man of the highest attainments as an anatomist,
+and you will remember that he inclines to the opinion that both the
+skeletons belonged to females. Now, it may turn out that this German
+woman’s remains have been found; which will put her guilt out of the
+question.”
+
+“Surely, Jack, you would not be sorry to have it turn out that any human
+being should be innocent of such crimes!”
+
+“By no means; though it really does seem to me more probable that an
+unknown straggler should be the guilty one in this case, than an
+educated young female, who has every claim in the way of attainments to
+be termed a lady. Besides, Michael, these German immigrants have brought
+more than their share of crime among us. Look at the reports of murders
+and robberies for the last ten years, and you will find that an undue
+proportion of them have been committed by this class of immigrants. To
+me, nothing appears more probable than this affair’s being traced up to
+that very woman.”
+
+“I own you are right, in saying what you do of the Germans. But it
+should be remembered, that some of their states are said to have adopted
+the policy of sending their rogues to America. If _England_ were to
+attempt that, now, I fancy Jonathan would hardly stand it!”
+
+“He ought not to stand it for an hour, from any nation on earth. If
+there ever was a good cause for war, this is one. Yes, yes; that German
+immigrant must be looked up, and examined.”
+
+Michael Millington smiled faintly at John Wilmeter’s disposition to
+believe the worst of the High Dutch; touching the frailties of whom,
+however, neither of the two had exaggerated anything. Far more than
+their share of the grave crimes of this country have, within the period
+named, been certainly committed by immigrants from Germany; whether the
+cause be in the reason given, or in national character. This is not
+according to ancient opinion, but we believe it to be strictly according
+to fact. The Irish are clannish, turbulent, and much disposed to knock
+each other on the head; but it is not to rob, or to pilfer, but to
+quarrel. The Englishman will pick your pocket, or commit burglary, when
+inclined to roguery, and frequently he has a way of his own of
+extorting, in the way of vails. The Frenchmen may well boast of their
+freedom from wrongs done to persons or property in this country; no
+class of immigrants furnishing to the prisons, comparatively, fewer
+criminals. The natives, out of all proportion, are freest from crime, if
+the blacks be excepted, and when we compare the number of the convicted
+with the number of the people. Still, such results ought not to be taken
+as furnishing absolute rules by which to judge of large bodies of men;
+since unsettled lives on the one hand, and the charities of life on the
+other, may cause disproportions that would not otherwise exist.
+
+“If one of these skeletons be that of the German woman, and Dr. McBrain
+should prove to be right,” said John Wilmeter, earnestly, “what has
+become of the remains of Mr. Goodwin? There was a husband as well as a
+wife, in that family.”
+
+“Very true,” answered Millington; “and I learned something concerning
+him, too. It seems that the old fellow drank intensely, at times, when
+he and his wife made the house too hot to hold them. All the Burtons
+agreed in giving this account of the good couple. The failing was not
+generally known, and had not yet gone so far as to affect the old man’s
+general character, though it would seem to have been known to the
+immediate neighbours.”
+
+“And not one word of all this, is to be found in any of the reports in
+the papers from town! Not a particle of testimony on the point before
+the inquest! Why, Mike, this single fact may furnish a clue to the whole
+catastrophe.”
+
+“In what way?” Millington very quietly enquired.
+
+“Those bones are the bones of females; old Goodwin has robbed the house,
+set fire to it, murdered his wife and the German woman in a drunken
+frolic, and run away. Here is a history for Uncle Tom, that will delight
+him; for if he do not feel quite certain of Mary Monson’s innocence now,
+he would be delighted to learn its truth!”
+
+“You make much out of a very little, Jack, and imagine far more than you
+can prove. Why should old Goodwin set fire to his own house—for I
+understand the property was his—steal his own money—for, though married
+women did then hold a separate estate in a bed-quilt, or a gridiron, the
+law could not touch the previous accumulations of a feme coverte—and
+murder a poor foreigner, who could neither give nor take away anything
+that the building contained? Then he is to burn his own house, and make
+himself a vagrant in his old age—and that among strangers! I learn he
+was born in that very house, and has passed his days in it. Such a man
+would not be very likely to destroy it.”
+
+“Why not, to conceal a murder? Crime must be concealed, or it is
+punished.”
+
+“Sometimes,” returned Michael, drily. “This Mary Monson will be hanged,
+out of all question, should the case go against her, for she understands
+French, and Italian, and German, you say; either of which tongues would
+be sufficient to hang her; but had old Mrs. Goodwin murdered _her_,
+philanthropy would have been up and stirring, and no rope would be
+stretched.”
+
+“Millington, you have a way of talking, at times, that is quite
+shocking! I do wish you could correct it. What use is there in bringing
+a young lady like Miss Monson down to the level of a common criminal?”
+
+“She will be brought down as low as that, depend on it, if guilty. There
+is no hope for one who bears about her person, in air, manner, speech,
+and deportment, the unequivocal signs of a lady. Our sympathies are all
+kept for those who are less set apart from the common herd. Sympathy
+goes by majorities, as well as other matters.”
+
+“You think her, at all events, a lady?” said John, quickly. “How, then,
+can you suppose it possible that she has been guilty of the crimes of
+which she stands accused?”
+
+“Simply, because my old-fashioned father has given me old-fashioned
+notions of the meaning of terms. So thin-skinned have people become
+lately, that even language must be perverted to gratify their conceit.
+The terms ‘gentleman’ and ‘lady’ have as defined meanings as any two
+words we possess—signifying persons of cultivated minds, and of certain
+refinements in tastes and manners. Morals have nothing to do with
+either, necessarily, as a ‘gentleman’ or ‘lady’ may be very wicked; nay,
+often are. It is true there are particular acts, partaking of
+meannesses, rather than anything decidedly criminal, that, by a
+convention, a gentleman or lady may not commit; but there are a hundred
+others, that are far worse, which are not prohibited. It is unlady-like
+to _talk_ scandal; but it is not deemed always unlady-like to give
+grounds to scandal. Here is a bishop who has lately been defining a
+gentleman, and, as usually happens with such men, unless they were
+originally on a level with their dioceses, he describes a ‘Christian,’
+rather than a ‘gentleman.’ This notion of making converts by means of
+enlisting our vanity and self-love in the cause, is but a weak one, at
+the best.”
+
+“Certainly, Mike; I agree with you in the main. As large classes of
+polished people do exist, who have loose enough notions of morals, there
+ought to be terms to designate them, as a class, as well as to give any
+other name, when we have the thing. Use has applied those of ‘gentlemen’
+and ‘ladies,’ and I can see no sufficient reason for changing them.”
+
+“It comes wholly from the longings of human vanity. As a certain
+distinction is attached to the term, everybody is covetous of obtaining
+it, and all sorts of reasoning is resorted to, to drag them into the
+categories. It would be the same, if it were a ground of distinction to
+have but one ear. But this distinction will be very likely to make
+things go hard with our client, Jack, if the jury say ‘guilty’.”
+
+“The jury never can—never _will_ render such a verdict! I do not think
+the grand jury will even return a bill. Why should they? The testimony
+wouldn’t convict an old state-prison-bird.”
+
+Michael Millington smiled, a little sadly, perhaps—for John Wilmeter was
+Sarah’s only brother—but he made no reply, perceiving that an old negro,
+named Sip, or Scipio, who lived about the jail by a sort of sufferance,
+and who had now been a voluntary adherent of a place that was usually so
+unpleasant to men of his class for many years, was approaching, as if he
+were the bearer of a message. Sip was an old-school black, grey-headed,
+and had seen more than his three-score years and ten. No wonder, then,
+that his dialect partook, in a considerable degree, of the peculiarities
+that were once so marked in a Manhattan “nigger.” Unlike his brethren of
+the present day, he was courtesy itself to all “gentlemen,” while his
+respect for “common folks” was a good deal more equivocal. But chiefly
+did the old man despise “yaller fellers;” these he regarded as a mongrel
+race, who could neither aspire to the pure complexion of the Circassian
+stock, nor lay claim to the glistening dye of Africa.
+
+“Mrs. Gott, she want to see masser,” said Scipio, bowing to John,
+grinning—for a negro seldom loses his teeth—and turning civilly to
+Millington, with a respectful inclination of a head that was as white as
+snow. “Yes, sah; she want to see masser, soon as conbe’nent; and soon as
+he can come.”
+
+Now, Mrs. Gott was the wife of the sheriff, and, alas! for the dignity
+of the office! the sheriff was the keeper of the county gaol. This is
+one of the fruits born on the wide-spreading branches of the tree of
+democracy. Formerly, a New York sheriff bore a strong resemblance to his
+English namesake. He was one of the county gentry, and executed the
+duties of his office with an air and a manner; appeared in court with a
+sword, and carried with his name a weight and an authority, that now are
+nearly wanting. Such men would scarcely become gaolers. But that
+universal root of all evil, the love of money, made the discovery that
+there was profit to be had in feeding the prisoners, and a lower class
+of men aspired to the offices, and obtained them; since which time, more
+than half of the sheriffs of New York have been their own gaolers.
+
+“Do you know _why_ Mrs. Gott wishes to see me, Scipio?” demanded
+Wilmeter.
+
+“I b’lieve, sah, dat ’e young woman, as murders ole Masser Goodwin and
+he wife, ask her to send for masser.”
+
+This was plain enough, and it caused Jack a severe pang; for it showed
+how conclusively and unsparingly the popular mind had made up its
+opinion touching Mary Monson’s guilt. There was no time to be lost,
+however; and the young man hastened towards the building to which the
+gaol was attached, both standing quite near the court-house. In the door
+of what was her dwelling, for the time-being, stood Mrs. Gott, the wife
+of the high sheriff of the county, and the only person in all Biberry
+who, as it appeared to John, entertained his own opinions of the
+innocence of the accused. But Mrs. Gott was, by nature, a kind hearted
+woman; and, though so flagrantly out of place in her united characters,
+was just such a person as ought to have the charge of the female
+department of a prison. Owing to the constant changes of the democratic
+principle of rotation in office, one of the most impudent of all the
+devices of a covetous envy, this woman had not many months before come
+out of the bosom of society, and had not seen enough of the ways of her
+brief and novel situation to have lost any of those qualities of her
+sex, such as extreme kindness, gentleness of disposition, and feminine
+feeling, that are anything but uncommon among the women of America. In
+many particulars, she would have answered the imaginative bishop’s
+description of a “lady;” but she would have been sadly deficient in some
+of the requisites that the opinions of the world have attached to the
+character. In these last particulars, Mary Monson, as compared with this
+worthy matron, was like a being of another race; though, as respects the
+first, we shall refer the reader to the events to be hereafter related,
+that he may decide the question according to his own judgment.
+
+“Mary Monson has sent for you, Mr. Wilmeter,” the good Mrs. Gott
+commenced, in a low, confidential sort of tone, as if she imagined that
+she and John were the especial guardians of this unknown and seemingly
+ill-fated young woman’s fortunes. “She is wonderfully resigned and
+patient—a great deal more patient than I should be, if I was obliged to
+live in this gaol—that is, on the other side of the strong doors; but
+she told me, an hour ago, that she is not sure, after all, her
+imprisonment is not the very best thing that could happen to her!”
+
+“That was a strange remark!” returned John. “Did she make it under a
+show of feeling, as if penitence, or any other strong emotion, induced
+her to utter it?”
+
+“With as sweet a smile, as composed a manner, and as gentle and soft a
+voice as a body ever sees, or listens to! What a wonderfully soft and
+musical voice she has, Mr. Wilmeter!”
+
+“She has, indeed. I was greatly struck with it, the moment I heard her
+speak. How much like a lady, Mrs. Gott, she uses it,—and how correct and
+well-pronounced are her words!”
+
+Although Mrs. Gott and John Wilmeter had very different ideas, at the
+bottom, of the requisites to form a lady, and the pronunciation of the
+good woman was by no means faultless, she cordially assented to the
+truth of the young man’s eulogy. Indeed, Mary Monson, for the hour, was
+her great theme; and, though still a young woman herself, and good
+looking withal, she really seemed never to tire of uttering her praises.
+
+“She has been educated, Mr. Wilmeter, far above any female hereabout,
+unless it may be some of the ——s and ——s,” the good woman continued.
+“Those families, you know, are our upper crust—not upper ten thousand,
+as the newspapers call it, but upper hundred, and them ladies may know
+as much as Mary; but, beyond _them_, no female hereabouts can hold a
+candle to her! Her books have been brought in, and I looked them
+over—there isn’t more than one in three that I can read at all. What is
+more, they don’t seem to be all in one tongue, the foreign books, but in
+three or four!”
+
+“She certainly has a knowledge of several of the living languages, and
+an accurate knowledge, too. I know a little of such things myself, but
+my friend Millington is quite strong in both the living and dead
+languages, and he says that what she knows she knows well.”
+
+“That is comforting—for a young lady that can speak so many different
+tongues would hardly think of robbing and murdering two old people, in
+their beds. Well, sir, perhaps you had better go to the door and see
+her, though I could stay here and talk about her all day. Pray Mr.
+Wilmeter, which of the languages is really dead?”
+
+John smiled, but civilly enlightened the sheriff’s lady on this point,
+and then, preceded by her, he went to the important door which separated
+the dwelling of the family from the rooms of the gaol. Once opened, an
+imperfect communication is obtained with the interior of the last, by
+means of a grating in an inner door. The gaol of Dukes county is a
+recent construction, and is built on a plan that is coming much into
+favour, though still wanting in the highest proof of civilization, by
+sufficiently separating criminals, and in treating the accused with a
+proper degree of consideration, until the verdict of a jury has
+pronounced them guilty.
+
+The construction of this gaol was very simple. A strong, low, oblong
+building had been erected on a foundation so filled in with stones as to
+render digging nearly impossible. The floors were of large, massive
+stones, that ran across the whole building a distance of some thirty
+feet, or if there were joints, they were under the partition walls,
+rendering them as secure as if solid. The cells were not large,
+certainly, but of sufficient size to admit of light and air. The
+ceilings were of the same enormous flat stones as the floors, well
+secured by a load of stones, and beams to brace them, and the partitions
+were of solid masonry. There the prisoner is encased in stone, and
+nothing can be more hopeless than an attempt to get out of one of these
+cells, provided the gaoler gives even ordinary attention to their
+condition. Above and around them are erected the outer walls of the
+gaol. The last comprise an ordinary stone house, with roof, windows, and
+the other customary appliances of a human abode. As these walls stand
+several feet without those of the real prison, and are somewhat higher,
+the latter axe an _imperium in imperio_; a house within a house. The
+space between the walls of the two buildings forms a gallery extending
+around all the cells. Iron grated gates divide the several parts of this
+gallery into so many compartments, and in the gaol of Biberry care has
+been had so to arrange these subdivisions that those within any one
+compartment may be concealed from those in all of the others, but the
+two that immediately join it. The breezes are admitted by means of the
+external windows, while the height of the ceiling in the galleries, and
+the space above the tops of the cells, contribute largely to comfort and
+health in this important particular. As the doors of the cells stand
+opposite to the windows, the entire gaol can be, and usually is, made
+airy and light. Stoves in the galleries preserve the temperature, and
+effectually remove all disagreeable moisture. In a word, the place is as
+neat, convenient, and decent as the gaol of convicts need ever to be;
+but the proper sort of distinction is not attended to between them and
+those who are merely accused. Our civilization in this respect is
+defective. While the land is filled with senseless cries against an
+aristocracy which, if it exist at all, exists in the singular
+predicament of being far less favoured than the democracy, involving a
+contradiction in terms; against a feudality that consists in men’s
+having bargained to pay their debts in chickens, no one complaining in
+behalf of those who have entered into contracts to do the same in wheat;
+and against _rent_, while _usury_ is not only smiled on, but encouraged,
+and efforts are made to legalize extortion; the public mind is quiet on
+the subject of the treatment of those whom the policy of government
+demands should be kept in security until their guilt or innocence be
+established. What reparation, under such circumstances, can be made to
+him to whom the gates are finally opened, for having been incarcerated
+on charges that are groundless? The gaols of the Christian world were
+first constructed by an irresponsible power, and to confine the weak. We
+imitate the vices of the system with a cool indifference, and shout
+“feudality” over a bantam, or a pound of butter, that are paid under
+contracted covenants for rent!
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER VII.
+
+ “Sir, this is the house; please it you, that I call?”
+ _Taming of the Shrew._
+
+
+The grated window which John Wilmeter now approached, commanded nearly
+an entire view of the gallery that communicated with the cell of Mary
+Monson. It also commanded a partial view of the cell itself. As he
+looked through the grates, he saw how neat and comfortable the last had
+been made by means of Mrs. Gott’s care, aided, doubtless, by some of the
+prisoner’s money—that gold which was, in fact, the strongest and only
+very material circumstance against her. Mrs. Gott had put a carpet in
+the cell, and divers pieces of furniture that were useful, as well as
+two or three that were intended to be ornamental, rendering the
+otherwise gloomy little apartment tolerably cheerful. The gallery, much
+to John’s surprise, had been furnished, also. Pieces of new carpeting
+were laid on the flags, chairs and table had been provided, and among
+other articles of this nature, was a very respectable looking-glass.
+Everything appeared new, and as if just sent from the different shops
+where the various articles were sold. Wilmeter fancied that not less
+than a hundred dollars had been expended in furnishing that gallery. The
+effect was surprising; taking away from the place its chilling,
+jail-like air, and giving to it, what it had never possessed before, one
+of household comfort.
+
+Mary Monson was walking to and fro, in this gallery, with slow,
+thoughtful steps, her head a little bowed, and her hands hanging before
+her, with the fingers interlocked. So completely was she lost in
+thought, that John’s footstep, or presence at the grate, was not
+observed, and he had an opportunity to watch her for near a minute,
+unseen himself. The occupation was not exactly excusable; but, under all
+the circumstances, young Wilmeter felt as if it might be permitted. It
+was his duty to ascertain all he fairly might, concerning his client.
+
+It has already been said that this strange girl, extraordinary by her
+situation as a person accused of crimes so heinous, and perhaps still
+more so by her manner of bearing up against the terrors and
+mortifications of her condition, as well as by the mystery which so
+completely veiled her past life, was not a beauty, in the common
+acceptation of the term. Nevertheless, not one female in ten thousand
+would sooner ensnare the heart of a youth, by means of her personal
+attractions alone. It was not regularity of features, nor brilliancy of
+complexion, nor lustre of the eyes, nor any of the more ordinary charms,
+that gave her this power; but an indescribable union of feminine traits,
+in which intellectual gifts, spirit, tenderness, and modesty, were so
+singularly blended, as to leave it questionable which had the advantage.
+Her eyes were of a very gentle and mild expression, when in a state of
+rest; excited, they were capable of opening windows to the inmost soul.
+Her form was faultless; being the true medium between vigorous health
+and womanly delicacy; which, in this country, implies much less of the
+robust and solid than one meets with in the other hemisphere.
+
+It is not easy to tell how we acquire those in-and-in habits, which get
+to be a sort of second nature, and almost bestow on us new instincts. It
+is by these secret sympathies, these tastes that pervade the moral, as
+the nerves form a natural telegraph through the physical, system, that
+one _feels_ rather than _sees_, when he is in the company of persons in
+his own class in life. Dress will not afford an infallible test, on such
+an occasion, though the daw is instantly seen not to be the peacock;
+neither will _ad_dress, for the distinctive qualities lie much deeper
+than the surface. But so it is; a gentleman can hardly be brought into
+the company of man or woman, without his at once perceiving whether he
+or she belong to his own social caste or not. What is more, if a man of
+the world, he detects almost instinctively the _degrees_ of caste, as
+well as the greater subdivisions, and knows whether his strange
+companions have seen much, or little; whether their gentility is merely
+the result of the great accident, with its customary advantages, or has
+been smoothed over by a liberal intercourse with the better classes of a
+general society. Most of all, may a travelled person be known—and that
+more especially in a provincial country, like our own—from one that has
+not travelled; though the company kept in other lands necessarily draws
+an obvious distinction between the last. Now, John Wilmeter, always
+mingling with the best society of his own country, had also been abroad,
+and had obtained that “second sight” which so insensibly, but certainly,
+increases the vision of all Americans who enjoy the advantage of
+acquiring it. What is more, though his years and the plans of his uncle
+for his future welfare, had prevented his staying in Europe long enough
+to receive all the benefit such a tour can bestow, he had remained long
+enough to pass beyond the study of merely physical things; and had made
+certain acquisitions in other matters, more essential to tastes, if not
+to character. When an American returns from an excursion into the old
+world, with “I come back better satisfied than ever with my own
+country,” it is an infallible sign that he did not stay long enough
+abroad; and when he returns only to find fault, it is equally proof that
+he has stayed too long. There is a happy medium which teaches something
+near the truth, and that would tell us that there are a thousand things
+to be amended and improved at home, while there are almost as many
+enjoyed, that the oldest and most polished people on earth might envy.
+John Wilmeter had not reached the point that enabled him to make the
+nicest distinctions, but he was sufficiently advanced to have detected
+what he conceived to be signs that this singular young creature,
+unknown, unsupported by any who appeared to take an interest in her,
+besides himself and the accidental acquaintances formed under the most
+painful circumstances, had been abroad; perhaps, had been educated
+there. The regulated tones of one of the sweetest voices he had ever
+heard, the distinctness and precision of her utterance, as far as
+possible removed from mouthing and stiffness, but markedly quiet and
+even, with a total absence of all the affectations of boarding-school
+grammar, were so many proofs of even a European education, as he
+fancied; and before that week was terminated, John had fully made up his
+mind that Mary Monson—though an American by birth, about which there
+could be no dispute—had been well taught in some of the schools of the
+old world.
+
+This was a conclusion not reached immediately. He had to be favoured
+with several interviews, and to worm himself gradually into the
+confidence of his uncle’s client, ere he could be permitted to see
+enough of the subject of his studies to form an opinion so abstruse and
+ingenious.
+
+When Mary Monson caught a glimpse of John Wilmeter’s head at her
+grate—where he stood respectfully uncovered, as in a lady’s presence—a
+slight flush passed over her face; but expecting him, as she did, she
+could not well be surprised.
+
+“This bears some resemblance, Mr. Wilmeter, to an interview in a
+convent,” she then said, with a slight smile, but with perfect composure
+of manner. “I am the novice—and novice am I, indeed, to scenes like
+this—you, the excluded friend, who is compelled to pay his visit through
+a grate! I must apologize for all the trouble I am giving you.”
+
+“Do not name it—I cannot be better employed than in your behalf. I am
+rejoiced that you sustain yourself so well against what must be a most
+unheard-of calamity, for one like yourself, and cannot but admire the
+admirable equanimity with which you bear your cruel fortune.”
+
+“Equanimity!” repeated Mary with emphasis, and a slight display of
+intense feeling, powerfully controlled; “if it be so, Mr. Wilmeter, it
+must be from the sense of security that I feel. Yes; for the first time
+in months, I do feel myself safe—secure.”
+
+“Safe!—Secure!—What, in a gaol?”
+
+“Certainly; gaols are intended for places of security, are they not?”
+answered Mary, smiling, but faintly and with a gleam of sadness on her
+face. “This may appear wonderful to you, but I do tell no more than
+sober truth, in repeating that, for the first time in months, I have now
+a sense of security. I am what you call in the hands of the law, and one
+there must be safe from everything but what the law can do to her. Of
+that I have no serious apprehensions, and I feel happy.”
+
+“Happy!”
+
+“Yes; by comparison, happy. I tell you this the more willingly, for I
+plainly see you feel a generous interest in my welfare—an interest which
+exceeds that of the counsel in his client——”
+
+“A thousand times exceeds it, Miss Monson!—Nay—is not to be named with
+it!”
+
+“I thank you, Mr. Wilmeter—from my heart I thank you,” returned the
+prisoner, a slight flush passing over her features, while her eyes were
+cast towards the floor. “I believe you are one of strong feelings and
+quick impulses, and am grateful that these have been in my favour, under
+circumstances that might well have excused you for thinking the worst.
+From the hints of this kind woman, Mrs. Gott, I am afraid that the
+opinion of Biberry is less consoling?”
+
+“You must know how it is in country villages, Miss Monson,—every one has
+something to say, and every one brings all things down to the level of
+his own knowledge and understanding.”
+
+Mary Monson smiled, again; this time more naturally, and without any
+painful expression to lessen the bright influence that lighting up of
+her features gave to a countenance so remarkable for its appearance of
+illumination from within.
+
+“Is not such the case in towns, as well as in villages, Mr. Wilmeter?”
+she asked.
+
+“Perhaps it is—but I mean that the circle of knowledge is more confined
+in a place like this, than in a large town, and that the people here
+could not well go beyond it.”
+
+“Biberry is so near New York, that I should think, taking class against
+class, no great difference can be found in their inhabitants. That which
+the good folk of Biberry think of my case, I am afraid will be thought
+of it by those of your own town.”
+
+“_My_ own town?—and are you not really from New York, Miss Monson?”
+
+“In no manner,” answered Mary, once more smiling; this time, however,
+because she understood how modestly and readily her companion was
+opening a door by which she might let a secret she had declined to
+reveal to his uncle, escape. “I am not what you call a Manhattanese, in
+either descent, birth, or residence; in no sense, whatever.”
+
+“But, surely, you have never been educated in the country?—You must
+belong to some large town—your manners show that—I mean that you——”
+
+“Do not belong to Biberry. In that you are quite right, sir. I had never
+seen Biberry three months since; but, as for New York, I have not passed
+a month there, in my whole life. The longest visit I ever paid you, was
+one of ten days, when I landed, coming from Havre, about eighteen months
+since.”
+
+“From Havre! Surely, you are an American, Miss Monson—our own
+countrywoman?”
+
+“Your own countrywoman, Mr. Wilmeter, by birth, descent, and feelings.
+But an American female may visit Europe.”
+
+“Certainly; and be educated there, as I had already suspected was your
+case.”
+
+“In part it was, and in part if was not.” Here Mary paused, looked a
+little arch, seemed to hesitate, and to have some doubts whether she
+ought to proceed, or not; but finally added—“You have been abroad,
+yourself?”
+
+“I have. I was nearly three years in Europe; and have not been home yet,
+quite a twelvemonth.”
+
+“You went into the east, I believe, after passing a few months in the
+Pyrenees?” continued the prisoner, carelessly.
+
+“You are quite right; we travelled as far as Jerusalem. The journey has
+got to be so common, that it is no longer dangerous. Even ladies make
+it, now, without any apprehension.”
+
+“I am aware of that, having made it myself——”
+
+“You, Miss Monson! You been at Jerusalem!”
+
+“Why not, Mr. Wilmeter? You say, yourself, that females constantly make
+the journey; why not I, as well as another?”
+
+“I scarce know, myself; but it is so strange—all about you is so very
+extraordinary——”
+
+“You think it extraordinary that one of my sex, who has been partly
+educated in Europe, and who has travelled in the Holy Land, should be
+shut up in this gaol in Biberry—is it not so?”
+
+“That is one view of the matter, I will confess; but it was scarcely
+less strange, that such a person should be dwelling in a garret-room of
+a cottage, like that of these unfortunate Goodwins.”
+
+“That touches on my secret, sir; and no more need be said. You may judge
+how important I consider that secret, when I know its preservation
+subjects me to the most cruel distrust; and that, too, in the minds of
+those with whom I would so gladly stand fair. Your excellent uncle, for
+instance, and—yourself.”
+
+“I should be much flattered, could I think the last—I who have scarcely
+the claim of an acquaintance.”
+
+“You forget the situation in which your respectable and most worthy
+uncle has left you here, Mr. Wilmeter; which, of itself, gives you
+higher claims to my thanks and confidence than any that mere
+acquaintance could bestow. Besides, we are not”—another arch, but
+scarcely perceptible, smile again illuminated that remarkable
+countenance—“the absolute strangers to each other, that you seem to
+think us.”
+
+“Not strangers? You amaze me! If I have ever had the honour——”
+
+“Honour!” interrupted Mary, a little bitterly. “It is truly a great
+honour to know one in my situation!”
+
+“I esteem it an honour; and no one has a right to call in question my
+sincerity. If we have ever met before, I will frankly own that I am
+ignorant of both the time and place.”
+
+“This does not surprise me, in the least. The time is long, for persons
+as young as ourselves, and the place was far away. Ah! those were happy
+days for me, and most gladly would I return to them! But we have talked
+enough on this subject. I have declined telling my tale to your most
+excellent and very respectable uncle; you will, therefore, the more
+easily excuse me, if I decline telling it to you.”
+
+“Who am not ‘most excellent and very respectable,’ to recommend me.”
+
+“Who are too near my own age, to make you a proper confidant, were there
+no other objection. The character that I learned of you, when we met
+before, Mr. Wilmeter, was, however, one of which you have no reason to
+be ashamed.”
+
+This was said gently, but earnestly; was accompanied by a most winning
+smile, and was instantly succeeded by a slight blush. John Wilmeter
+rubbed his forehead, sooth to say, in a somewhat stupid manner, as if
+expecting to brighten his powers of recollection by friction. A sudden
+change was given to the conversation, however, by the fair prisoner
+herself, who quietly resumed—
+
+“We will defer this part of the subject to another time. I did not
+presume to send for you, Mr. Wilmeter, without an object, having your
+uncle’s authority for giving you all this trouble——”
+
+“And my own earnest request to be permitted to serve you, in any way I
+could.”
+
+“I have not forgotten that offer, nor shall I ever. The man who is
+willing to serve a woman, whom all around her frown on, has a fair claim
+to be remembered. Good Mrs. Gott and yourself are the only two friends I
+have in Biberry. Even your companion, Mr. Millington, is a little
+disposed to judge me harshly.”
+
+John started; the movement was so natural, that his honest countenance
+would have betrayed him, had he been disposed to deny the imputation.
+
+“That Millington has fallen into the popular notion about here, I must
+allow, Miss Monson; but he is an excellent fellow at the bottom, and
+will hear reason. Prejudices that are beyond reason are detestable, and
+I generally avoid those whose characters manifest this weakness; but
+Mike will always listen to what he calls ‘law and facts,’ and so we get
+along very well together.”
+
+“It is fortunate; since you are about to be so nearly connected——”
+
+“Connected! Is it possible that _you_ know this circumstance?”
+
+“You will find in the end, Mr. Wilmeter,” returned the prisoner,
+smiling—this time, naturally, as one manifests satisfaction without pain
+of any sort—“that I know more of your private affairs than you had
+supposed. But let me come to business, if you please, sir; I have great
+occasion here for a maid-servant. Do you not think that Miss Wilmeter
+might send me one from town?”
+
+“A servant! I know the very woman that will suit you. A perfect jewel,
+in her way!”
+
+“That is a very housekeeper sort of a character,” rejoined Mary,
+absolutely laughing, in spite of her prison walls, and all the tenable
+charges that had brought her within them; “just such a character as I
+might have expected from Dr. McBrain’s intended, Mrs. Updyke——”
+
+“And you know it, too! Why will you not tell us more, since you tell us
+so much?”
+
+“In good time, I suppose all will come out. Well, I endeavour to submit
+to my fate; or to the will of God!” There was no longer anything merry,
+in voice, face, or manner, but a simple, natural pathos was singularly
+mixed in the tones with which these few words were uttered. Then rousing
+herself, she gravely resumed the subject which had induced her to send
+for John.
+
+“You will pardon me, if I say that I would prefer a woman chosen and
+recommended by your sister, Mr. Wilmeter, than one chosen and
+recommended by yourself,” said Mary. “When I shall have occasion for a
+footman, I will take your advice. It is very important that I should
+engage a respectable, discreet woman; and I will venture to write a
+line, myself, to Miss Wilmeter, if you will be so kind as to send it. I
+know this is not the duty of a counsel; but you see my situation. Mrs.
+Gott has offered to procure a girl for me, it is true; but the prejudice
+is so strong against me in Biberry, that I doubt if the proper sort of
+person could be obtained. At any rate, I should be receiving a spy into
+my little household, instead of a domestic, in whom I could place
+confidence.”
+
+“Sarah would join me in recommending Marie, who has been with herself
+more than two years, and only left her to take care of her father, in
+his last illness. Another, equally excellent, has been taken in her
+place; and now, that she wishes to return to my sister’s service, there
+is no opening for her. Mike Millington is dying to return to town, and
+will gladly go over this evening. By breakfast-time to-morrow, the woman
+might be here, if——”
+
+“She will consent to serve a mistress in my cruel situation. I feel the
+full weight of the objection, and know how difficult it will be to get a
+female, who values her character as a servant, to enter on such an
+engagement. You called this woman Marie; by that, I take it she is a
+foreigner?”
+
+“A Swiss—her parents emigrated; but I knew her in the service of an
+American family, abroad, and got her for Sarah. She is the best creature
+in the world—if she can be persuaded to come.”
+
+“Had she been an American, I should have despaired of succeeding unless
+her feelings could have been touched; but, as she is a foreigner,
+perhaps money will procure her services. Should Miss Wilmeter approve of
+your selection, sir, I will intreat her to go as high as fifty dollars a
+month, rather than not get the sort of person I want. You can imagine
+how much importance I attach to success. To escape remarks and
+gossiping, the person engaged can join me as a companion, or friend, and
+not as a servant.”
+
+“I will get Mike off in half an hour, and Sarah will at least make an
+effort. Yes, Marie Moulin, or Mary Mill, as the girls call her, is just
+the thing!”
+
+“Marie Moulin! Is that the name of the woman? She who was in the service
+of the Barringers, at Paris? Do you mean _that_ person—five-and-thirty,
+slightly pock-marked, with light blue eyes, and yellowish hair—more like
+a German, than her French name would give reason to expect?”
+
+“The very same; and you knew her, _too_! Why not bring all your friends
+around you at once, Miss Monson, and not remain here an hour longer than
+is necessary.”
+
+Mary was too intent on the subject of engaging the woman in question, to
+answer this last appeal. Earnestly did she resume her instructions,
+therefore, and with an eagerness of manner young Wilmeter had never
+before observed in her.
+
+“If Marie Moulin be the person meant,” she said, “I will spare no pains
+to obtain her services. Her attentions to poor Mrs. Barringer, in her
+last illness, were admirable; and we all loved her, I may say. Beg your
+sister to tell her, Mr. Wilmeter, that an old acquaintance, in distress,
+implores her assistance. That will bring Marie, sooner than money, Swiss
+though she be.”
+
+“If you would write her a line, enclosing your real name, for we are
+persuaded it is not Monson, it might have more effect than all our
+solicitations, in behalf of one that is unknown.”
+
+The prisoner turned slowly from the grate, and walked up and down her
+gallery for a minute or two, as if pondering on this proposal. Once she
+smiled, and it almost gave a lustre to her remarkable countenance; then
+a cloud passed over her face, and once more she appeared sad.
+
+“No,” she said, stopping near the grate again, in one of her turns. “I
+will not do it—it will be risking too much. I can do nothing, just now,
+that will tell more of me than your sister can state.”
+
+“Should Marie Moulin know you, she must recognise you when you meet.”
+
+“It will be wiser to proceed a little in the dark. I confide all to your
+powers of negotiation, and shall remain as tranquil as possible, until
+to-morrow morning. There is still another little affair that I must
+trouble you with, Mr. Wilmeter. My gold is sequestered, as you know, and
+I am reduced to an insufficient amount of twos and threes. Might I ask
+the favour of you to obtain smaller notes for this, without mentioning
+in whose behalf it is done?”
+
+While speaking, Mary handed through the grate a hundred dollar note of
+one of the New York banks, with a manner so natural and unpretending, as
+at once to convince John Wilmeter, ever so willing to be persuaded into
+anything in her favour, that she was accustomed to the use of money in
+considerable sums; or, what might be considered so, for the wants and
+habits of a female. Luckily, he had nearly money enough in his wallet to
+change the note, making up a small balance that was needed, by drawing
+five half-eagles from his purse. The prisoner held the last, in the open
+palm of one of the most beautiful little hands the eyes of man ever
+rested on.
+
+“This metal has been my bane, in more ways than one, Mr. Wilmeter,” she
+said, looking mournfully at the coin. “Of one of its evil influences on
+my fate, I may not speak, now, if ever; but you will understand me when
+I say, that I fear that gold piece of Italian money is the principal
+cause of my being where I am.”
+
+“No doubt, it has been considered one of the most material of the facts
+against you, Miss Monson; though it is by no means conclusive, as
+evidence, even with the most bitter and prejudiced.”
+
+“I hope not. Now, Mr. Wilmeter, I will detain you no longer; but beg you
+to do my commission with your sister, as you would do it for her with
+me. I would write, but my hand is so peculiar, it were better that I did
+not.”
+
+Mary Monson now dismissed the young man, with the manner of one very
+familiar with the tone of good society—a term that it is much the
+fashion to ridicule just now, but which conveys a meaning, that it were
+better the scoffers understood. This she did, however, after again
+apologising for the trouble she was giving, and thanking him earnestly
+for the interest he took in her affairs. We believe in animal magnetism;
+and cannot pretend to say what is the secret cause of the powerful
+sympathy that is so often suddenly awakened between persons of different
+sexes, and, in some instances, between those who are of the same sex;
+but Mary Monson, by that species of instinct that teaches the female
+where she has awakened an interest livelier than common, and possibly
+where she has not, was certainly already aware that John Wilmeter did
+not regard her with the same cool indifference he would have felt
+towards an ordinary client of his uncle’s. In thanking him, therefore,
+her own manner manifested a little of the reflected feeling that such a
+state of things is pretty certain to produce. She coloured, and slightly
+hesitated once, as if she paused to choose her terms with more than
+usual care; but, in the main, acquitted herself well. The parting,
+betrayed interest, perhaps feeling, on both sides; but nothing very
+manifest escaped either of our young people.
+
+Never had John Wilmeter been at a greater loss to interpret facts, than
+he was on quitting the grate. The prisoner was truly the most
+incomprehensible being he had ever met with. Notwithstanding the fearful
+nature of the charges against her—charges that might well have given
+great uneasiness to the firmest man—she actually seemed in love with her
+prison. It is true, that worthy Mrs. Gott had taken from the place many
+of its ordinary, repulsive features; but it was still a gaol, and the
+sun could be seen only through grates, and massive walls separated her
+that was within, from the world without. As the young man was
+predisposed to regard everything connected with this extraordinary young
+woman _couleur de rose_, however, he saw nothing but the surest signs of
+innocence in several circumstances that might have increased the
+distrust of his cooler-headed uncle; but most persons would have
+regarded the gentle tranquillity that now seemed to soothe a spirit that
+had evidently been much troubled of late, as a sign that her hand could
+never have committed the atrocities with which she was charged.
+
+“Is she not a sweet young thing, Mr. Wilmeter?” exclaimed kind Mrs.
+Gott, while locking the doors after John, on his retiring from the
+grate. “I consider it an honour to Biberry gaol, to have such a prisoner
+within its walls!”
+
+“I believe that you and I stand alone in our favourable opinion of Miss
+Monson,” John answered; “so far, at least, as Biberry is concerned. The
+excitement against her seems to be at the highest pitch; and I much
+doubt whether a fair trial can be had in the county.”
+
+“The newspapers won’t mend the matter, sir. The papers from town, this
+morning, are full of the affair, and they all appear to lean the same
+way. But it’s a long road that has no turning, Mr. Wilmeter.”
+
+“Very true, and nothing wheels about with a quicker step than the sort
+of public opinion that is got up under a cry, and runs itself out of
+breath, at the start. I expect to see Mary Monson the most approved and
+most extolled woman in this county, yet!”
+
+Mrs. Gott hoped with all her heart that it might be so, though _she_
+had, certainly, misgivings that the young man did not feel. Half an hour
+after John Wilmeter had left the gaol, his friend, Michael Millington,
+was on the road to town, carrying a letter to Sarah, with a most earnest
+request that she would use all her influence with Marie Moulin to engage
+in the unusual service asked of her, for a few weeks, if for no longer a
+period. This letter reached its destination in due time, and greatly did
+the sister marvel over its warmth, as well as over the nature of the
+request.
+
+“I never knew John to write so earnestly!” exclaimed Sarah, when she and
+Michael had talked over the matter a few moments. “Were he actually in
+love, I could not expect him to be more pressing.”
+
+“I will not swear that he is not,” returned the friend, laughing. “He
+sees everything with eyes so different from mine, that I scarce know
+what to make of him. I have never known John so deeply interested in any
+human being, as he is at this moment in this strange creature!”
+
+“Creature! You men do not often call young ladies _creatures_, and my
+brother affirms that this Mary Monson is a lady.”
+
+“Certainly she is, so far as exterior, manner, education, and I suppose,
+tastes, are concerned. Nevertheless, there is too much reason to think
+she is, in some way unknown to us, connected with crime.”
+
+“I have read accounts of persons of these attainments, who have been
+leagued together, and have carried on a great system of plundering for
+years, with prodigious success. That, however, was in older countries,
+where the necessities of a crowded population drive men into extremes.
+We are hardly sufficiently advanced, or civilized as they call it, for
+such bold villany.”
+
+“A suspicion of that nature has crossed my mind,” returned Millington,
+looking askance over his shoulder, as if he apprehended that his friend
+might hear him. “It will not do, however, to remotely hint to John
+anything of the sort. His mind is beyond the influence of testimony.”
+
+Sarah scarce knew what to make of the affair, though sisterly regard
+disposed her to do all she could to oblige her brother. Marie Moulin,
+however, was not easily persuaded into consenting to serve a mistress
+who was in prison. She held up her hands, turned up her eyes, uttered
+fifty exclamations, and declared, over and over again “_c’est
+impossible_;” and wondered how a female in such a situation could
+suppose any respectable domestic would serve her, as it would be very
+sure to prevent her ever getting a good place afterwards. This last
+objection struck Sarah as quite reasonable, and had not her brother been
+so very urgent with her, would of itself have induced her to abandon all
+attempt at persuasion. Marie, however, finally yielded to a feeling of
+intense curiosity, when no bribe in money could have bought her. John
+had said the prisoner knew her—had known her in Europe—and she was soon
+dying with the desire to know who, of all her many acquaintances in the
+old world, could be the particular individual who had got herself into
+this formidable difficulty. It was impossible to resist this feeling, so
+truly feminine, which was a good deal stimulated by a secret wish in
+Sarah, also, to learn who this mysterious person might be; and who did
+not fail to urge Marie, with all her rhetoric, to consent to go and, at
+least, see the person who had so strong a wish to engage her services.
+The Swiss had not so much difficulty in complying, provided she was
+permitted to reserve her final decision until she had met the prisoner,
+when she might gratify her curiosity, and return to town prepared to
+enlighten Miss Wilmeter, and all her other friends, on a subject that
+had got to be intensely interesting.
+
+It was not late, next morning, when Marie Moulin, attended by John
+Wilmeter, presented herself to Mrs. Gott, as an applicant for admission
+to the gallery of Mary Monson. The young man did not show himself, on
+this occasion; though he was near enough to hear the grating of the
+hinges when the prison-door opened.
+
+“C’est bien vous donc, Marie!” said the prisoner, in a quick but pleased
+salutation.
+
+“Mademoiselle!” exclaimed the Swiss. The kisses of women succeeded. The
+door closed, and John Wilmeter learned no more, on that occasion.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER VIII.
+
+ “And can you by no drift of conference
+ Get from him, why he puts on this confusion—”
+ _Hamlet._
+
+
+There is something imaginative, if not very picturesque, in the manner
+in which the lawyers of Manhattan occupy the buildings of Nassau street,
+a thoroughfare which connects Wall street with the Tombs. There they
+throng, resembling the remains of so many monuments along the Appian
+way, with a “_siste viator_” of their own, to arrest the footsteps of
+the wayfarer. We must now transfer the scene to a building in this
+street, which stands about half-way between Maiden Lane and John Street,
+having its front plastered over with little tin signs, like a debtor
+marked by writs, or what are now called “complaints.” Among these signs,
+which afforded some such pleasant reading as an almanac, was one that
+bore this simple and reasonably intelligent inscription:
+
+“Thomas Dunscomb, 2d floor, in front.”
+
+It is somewhat singular that terms as simple as those of first floor,
+second floor, &c., should not signify the same things in the language of
+the mother country, and that of this land of progress and liberty.
+Certain it is, nevertheless, that in American parlance, more especially
+in that of Manhattan, a first floor is never up one pair of stairs, as
+in London, unless indeed the flight is that by which the wearied
+foot-passenger climbs the high stoop to gain an entrance into the
+building. In other words, an English first floor corresponds with an
+American second; and, taking that as the point of departure, the same
+difference exists throughout. Tom Dunscomb’s office (or offices would be
+the better term) occupied quite half of the second story of a large
+double house, that had once been the habitation of some private family
+of note, but which had long been abandoned to the occupation of these
+ministers of the law. Into those offices it has now become our duty to
+accompany one who seemed a little strange in that den of the profession,
+at the very moment he was perfectly at home.
+
+“Lawyer Dunscomb in?” demanded this person, who had a decided rustic
+mien, though his dress had a sort of legal dye on it, speaking to one of
+the five or six clerks who raised their heads on the stranger’s
+entrance.
+
+“In, but engaged in a consultation, I believe,” answered one who, being
+paid for his services, was the working clerk of the office; most of the
+others being students who get no remuneration for their time, and who
+very rarely deserve it.
+
+“I’ll wait till he is through,” returned the stranger, helping himself
+coolly to a vacant chair, and taking his seat in the midst of dangers
+that might have alarmed one less familiar with the snares, and quirks,
+and quiddities of the law. The several clerks, after taking a good look
+each at their guest, cast their eyes down on their books or foolscap,
+and seemed to be engrossed with their respective occupations. Most of
+the young men, members of respectable families in town, set the stranger
+down for a rustic client; but the working-clerk saw at once, by a
+certain self-possessed and shrewd manner, that the stranger was a
+country practitioner.
+
+In the course of the next half hour, Daniel Lord and George Wood came
+out of the sanctum, attended as far as the door by Dunscomb himself.
+Exchanging “good morning” with his professional friends, the last caught
+a glimpse of his patient visitor, whom he immediately saluted by the
+somewhat brief and familiar name of Timms, inviting him instantly, and
+with earnestness, to come within the limits of the privileged. Mr. Timms
+complied, entering the _sanctum_ with the air of one who had been there
+before, and appearing to be in no manner overcome by the honour he
+enjoyed. And now, as a faithful chronicler of events, it is here become
+our painful, not to say revolting duty, to record an act on the part of
+the man who was known throughout Duke’s county as ’Squire Timms, which
+it will never do to overlook, since it has got to be perfectly
+distinctive and characteristic of late years, not of an individual, but
+of large classes who throng the bar, the desk, the steamboats, the
+taverns, the streets. A thousand paragraphs have been written on the
+subject of American spitting, and not one line, as we can remember, on
+the subject of an equally common and still grosser offence against the
+minor morals of the country, if decency in manners may be thus termed.
+Our meaning will be explained more fully in the narrative of the
+stranger’s immediate movements on entering the sanctum.
+
+“Take a seat, Mr. Timms,” said Dunscomb, motioning to a chair, while he
+resumed his own well-cushioned seat, and deliberately proceeded to light
+a segar, not without pressing several with a species of intelligent
+tenderness, between his thumb and finger. “Take a seat, sir; and take a
+segar.”
+
+Here occurred the great _tour de force_ in manners of ’Squire Timms.
+Considerately turning his person quartering towards his host, and
+seizing himself by the nose, much as if he had a quarrel with that
+member of his face, he blowed a blast that sounded sonorously, and which
+fulfilled all that it promised. Now a better mannered man than Dunscomb
+it would not be easy to find. He was not particularly distinguished for
+elegance of deportment, but he was perfectly well-bred. Nevertheless, he
+did not flinch before this broad hint from vulgarity, but stood it
+unmoved. To own the truth, so large has been the inroad from the base of
+society, within the last five-and-twenty years, on the habits of those
+who once exclusively dwelt together, that he had got hardened even to
+_this_ innovation. The fact is not to be concealed, and, as we intend
+never to touch upon the subject again, we shall say distinctly that Mr.
+Timms blowed his nose with his fingers, and that, in so doing, he did
+not innovate one half as much, to-day, on the usages of the Upper Ten
+Thousand, as he would have done had he blowed his nose with his thumb
+only, a quarter of a century since.
+
+Dunscomb bore this infliction philosophically; and well he might, for
+there was no remedy. Waiting for Timms to use his handkerchief, which
+was produced somewhat tardily for such an operation, he quietly opened
+the subject of their interview.
+
+“So the grand jury has actually found a bill for murder and arson, my
+nephew writes me,” Dunscomb observed, looking enquiringly at his
+companion, as if really anxious for further intelligence.
+
+“Unanimously, they tell me, Mr. Dunscomb,” answered Timms. “I understand
+that only one man hesitated, and he was brought round before they came
+into court. That piece of money damns our case in old Duke’s.”
+
+“Money saves more cases than it damns, Timms; and no one knows it better
+than yourself.”
+
+“Very true, sir. Money may defy even the new code. Give me five hundred
+dollars, and change the proceedings to a civil action, and I’ll carry
+anything in my own county that you’ll put on the calendar, barring some
+twenty or thirty jurors I could name. There _are_ about thirty men in
+the county that I can do nothing with—for that matter, whom I dare not
+approach.”
+
+“How the deuce is it, Timms, that you manage your causes with so much
+success? for I remember you have given me a good deal of trouble in
+suits in which law and fact were both clearly enough on my side.”
+
+“I suppose those must have been causes in which we ‘horse-shedded’ and
+‘pillowed’ a good deal.”
+
+“Horse-shedded and pillowed! Those are legal terms of which I have no
+knowledge!”
+
+“They are country phrases, sir, and country customs too, for that
+matter. A man might practise a long life in town, and know nothing about
+them. The Halls of Justice are not immaculate; but they can tell us
+nothing of horse-shedding and pillowing. They do business in a way of
+which we in the country are just as ignorant as you are of our mode.”
+
+“Have the goodness, Timms, just to explain the meaning of your terms,
+which are quite new to me. I will not swear they are not in the Code of
+Practice, but they are in neither Blackstone nor Kent.”
+
+“Horse-shedding, ’Squire Dunscomb, explains itself. In the country, most
+of the jurors, witnesses, &c., have more or less to do with the
+horse-sheds, if it’s only to see that their beasts are fed. Well, we
+keep proper talkers there, and it must be a knotty case, indeed, into
+which an ingenious hand cannot thrust a doubt or an argument. To be
+frank with you, I’ve known three pretty difficult suits summed up under
+a horse-shed in one day; and twice as many opened.”
+
+“But how is this done?—do you present your arguments directly, as in
+court?”
+
+“Lord bless you, no. In court, unless the jury happen to be unusually
+excellent, counsel have to pay some little regard to the testimony and
+the law; but, in horse-shedding, one has no need of either. A skilful
+horse-shedder, for instance, will talk a party to pieces, and not say a
+word about the case. That’s the perfection of the business. It’s against
+the law, you know, Mr. Dunscomb, to talk of a case before a juror—an
+indictable offence—but one may make a case of a party’s general
+character, of his means, his miserly qualities, or his aristocracy; and
+it will be hard to get hold of the talker for any of them qualities.
+Aristocracy, of late years, is a capital argument, and will suit almost
+any state of facts, or any action you can bring. Only persuade the jury
+that the plaintiff or defendant fancies himself better than they are,
+and the verdict is certain. I got a thousand dollars in the Springer
+case, solely on that ground. Aristocracy did it! It is going to do us a
+great deal of harm in this murder and arson indictment.”
+
+“But Mary Monson is no aristocrat—she is a stranger, and unknown. What
+privileges does she enjoy, to render her obnoxious to the charge of
+aristocracy?”
+
+“More than will do her any good. Her aristocracy does her almost as much
+harm in old Duke’s as the piece of gold. I always consider a cause as
+half lost, when there is any aristocracy in it.”
+
+“Aristocracy means exclusive political privileges in the hands of a few;
+and it means nothing else. Now, what exclusive political privileges does
+this unfortunate young woman enjoy? She is accused of two of the highest
+crimes known to the laws; is indicted, imprisoned, and will be tried.”
+
+“Yes, and by her _peers_,” said Timms, taking out a very
+respectable-looking box, and helping himself liberally to a pinch of cut
+tobacco. “It’s wonderful, ’Squire Dunscomb, how much breadth the
+_peerage_ possesses in this country! I saw a trial, a year or two since,
+in which one of the highest intellects of the land was one of the
+parties, and in which a juror asked the judge to explain the meaning of
+the word ‘bereaved.’ _That_ citizen had his rights referred to his
+peers, with a vengeance!”
+
+“Yes; the venerable maxim of the common law is, occasionally, a little
+caricatured among us. This is owing to our adhering to antiquated
+opinions after the facts in which they had their origin have ceased to
+exist. But, by your manner of treating the subject, Timms, I infer that
+you give up the aristocracy.”
+
+“Not at all. Our client will have more risks to run on account of
+_that_, than on account of any other weak spot in her case. I think we
+might get along with the piece of gold, as a life is in question; but it
+is not quite so easy to see how we are to get along with the
+aristocracy.”
+
+“And this in the face of her imprisonment, solitary condition,
+friendless state, and utter dependence on strangers for her future fate?
+I see no one feature of aristocracy to reproach her with.”
+
+“But I see a great many, and so does the neighbourhood. It is already
+getting to be the talk of half the county. In short, all are talking
+about it, but they who know better. You’ll see, ’Squire Dunscomb, there
+are two sorts of aristocracy in the eyes of most people; _your_ sort,
+and _my_ sort. _Your_ sort is a state of society that gives privileges
+and power to a few, and keeps it there. That is what I call
+old-fashioned aristocracy, about which nobody cares anything in this
+country. We have no such aristocrats, I allow, and consequently they
+don’t signify a straw.”
+
+“Yet they are the only true aristocrats, after all. But what, or who are
+yours.”
+
+“Well now, ’Squire, _you_ are a sort of aristocrat yourself, in a
+certain way. I don’t know how it is—I’m admitted to the bar as well as
+you—have just as many rights—”
+
+“More, Timms, if leading jurors by the nose, and horse-shedding, can be
+accounted rights.”
+
+“Well, more, in some respects, may be. Notwithstanding all this, there
+is a difference between us—a difference in our ways, in our language, in
+our ideas, our manner of thinking and acting, that sets you up above me
+in a way I should not like in any other man. As you did so much for me
+when a boy, sir, and carried me through to the bar on your shoulders, as
+it might be, I shall always look up to you; though I must say that I do
+not always like even _your_ superiority.”
+
+“I should be sorry, Timms, if I ever so far forget my own great defects,
+as to parade unfeelingly any little advantages I may happen to possess
+over you, or over any other man, in consequence of the accidents of
+birth and education.”
+
+“You do not parade them unfeelingly, sir; you do not _parade_ them at
+all. Still, they will show themselves; and they are just the things I do
+not like to look at. Now, what is true of me, is true of all my
+neighbours. We call anything aristocracy that is a touch above us, let
+it be what it may. I sometimes think ’Squire Dunscomb is a sort of an
+aristocrat in the law! Now, as for our client, she has a hundred ways
+with her that are not the ways of Duke’s, unless you go among the
+tip-toppers.”
+
+“The Upper Ten——”
+
+“Pshaw! I know better than that myself, ’Squire. Their Upper Ten should
+be upper one, or two, to be common sense. Rude and untaught as I was
+until you took me by the hand, sir, I can tell the difference between
+those who wear kids, and ride in their coaches, and those who are fit
+for either. Our client has none of this, sir; and that it is which
+surprises me. She has no Union Place, or Fifth Avenue, about her; but is
+the true coin. There is one thing in particular that I’m afraid may do
+her harm.”
+
+“It is the true coin which usually passes with the least trouble from
+hand to hand. But what is this particular source of uneasiness?”
+
+“Why, the client has a lady-friend——”
+
+A little exclamation from Dunscomb caused the speaker to pause, while
+the counsellor removed the segar from his mouth, knocked off its ashes,
+and appeared to ponder for a moment, touching the best manner of
+treating a somewhat delicate subject. At length, native frankness
+overcame all scruples, and he spoke plainly, or as the familiar
+instructor might be expected to address a very green pupil.
+
+“If you love me, Timms, never repeat that diabolical phrase again,” said
+Dunscomb, looking quite serious, however much there might have been of
+affectation in his aspect. “It is even worse than Hurlgate, which I have
+told you fifty times I cannot endure. ‘Lady friend’ is infernally
+vulgar, and I _will_ not stand it. You may blow your nose with your
+fingers, if it give you especial satisfaction, and you may blow out
+against aristocracy as much as you please; but you shall not talk to me
+about ‘lady-friends’ or ‘Hurlgate.’ I am no dandy, but a respectable
+elderly gentleman, who professes to speak English, and who wishes to be
+addressed in his own language. Heaven knows what the country is coming
+to! There is Webster, to begin with, cramming a Yankee dialect down our
+throats for good English; then comes all the cant of the day,
+flourishing finical phrases, and new significations to good old homely
+words, and changing the very nature of mankind by means of terms. Last
+of all, is this infernal Code, in which the ideas are as bad as
+possible, and the terms still worse. But whom do you mean by your
+‘lady-friend?’”
+
+“The French lady that has been with our client, now, for a fortnight.
+Depend on it, _she_ will do us no good when we are on. She is too
+aristocratic altogether.”
+
+Dunscomb laughed outright. Then he passed a hand across his brow, and
+seemed to muse.
+
+“All this is very serious,” he at length replied, “and is really no
+laughing matter. A pretty pass are we coming to, if the administration
+of the law is to be influenced by such things as these! The doctrine is
+openly held that the rich shall not, ought not to embellish their
+amusements at a cost that the poor cannot compass; and here we have a
+member of the bar telling us a prisoner shall not have justice because
+she has a foreign maid-servant!”
+
+“A servant! Call her anything but that, ’Squire, if you wish for
+success! A prisoner accused of capital crimes, with a servant, would be
+certain to be condemned. Even the court would hardly stand _that_.”
+
+“Timms, you are a shrewd, sagacious fellow, and are apt to laugh in your
+sleeve at follies of this nature, as I well know from long acquaintance;
+and here you insist on one of the greatest of all the absurdities.”
+
+“Things are changed in Ameriky, Mr. Dunscomb. The people are beginning
+to govern; and when they can’t do it legally, they do it without law.
+Don’t you see what the papers say about having operas and play-houses at
+the people’s prices, and the right to hiss? There’s Constitution for
+you! I wonder what Kent and Blackstone would say to _that_?”
+
+“Sure enough. They would find some novel features in a liberty which
+says a man shall not set the price on the seats in his own theatre, and
+that the hissing may be done by an audience in the _streets_. The facts
+are, Timms, that all these abuses about O. P.’s, and controlling other
+persons’ concerns under the pretence that the public has rights where,
+as a public, it has no rights at all, come from the reaction of a
+half-way liberty in other countries. Here, where the people are really
+free, having all the power, and where no political right is hereditary,
+the people ought, at least, to respect their own ordinances.”
+
+“Do you not consider a theatre a public place, ’Squire Dunscomb?”
+
+“In one sense it is, certainly; but not in the sense that bears on this
+pretended power over it. The very circumstance that the audience pay for
+their seats, makes it, in law as in fact, a matter of covenant. As for
+this newfangled absurdity about its being a duty to furnish low-priced
+seats for the poor, where they may sit and look at pretty women because
+they cannot see them elsewhere, it is scarcely worth an argument. If the
+rich should demand that the wives and daughters of the poor should be
+paraded in the pits and galleries, for _their_ patrician eyes to feast
+on, a pretty clamour there would be! If the state requires cheap
+theatres, and cheap women, let the state pay for them, as it does for
+its other wants; but, if these amusements are to be the object of
+private speculations, let private wisdom control them. I have no respect
+for one-sided liberty, let it cant as much as it may.”
+
+“Well, I don’t know, sir; I have read some of these articles, and they
+seemed to me——”
+
+“What—convincing?”
+
+“Perhaps not just that, ’Squire; but very _agreeable_. I’m not rich
+enough to pay for a high place at an opera or a theatre; and it is
+pleasant to fancy that a poor feller can get one of the best seats at
+half-price. Now, in England, they tell me, the public won’t stand prices
+they don’t like.”
+
+“Individuals of the public may refuse to purchase, and there their
+rights cease. An opera, in particular, is a very expensive amusement;
+and in all countries where the rates of admission are low, the
+governments contribute to the expenditures. This is done from policy, to
+keep the people quiet, and possibly to help civilize them; but, if we
+are not far beyond the necessity of any such expedients, our
+institutions are nothing but a sublime mystification.”
+
+“It is wonderful, ’Squire, how many persons see the loose side of
+democracy, who have no notion of the tight! But, all this time, our
+client is in gaol at Biberry, and must be tried next week. Has nothing
+been done, ’Squire, to choke off the newspapers, who have something to
+say about her almost every day. It’s quite time the other side should be
+heard.”
+
+“It is very extraordinary that the persons who control these papers
+should be so indifferent to the rights of others as to allow such
+paragraphs to find a place in their columns.”
+
+“Indifferent! What do they care, so long as the journal sells? In our
+case, however, I rather suspect that a certain reporter has taken
+offence; and when men of that class get offended, look out for news of
+the colour of their anger. Isn’t it wonderful, ’Squire Dunscomb, that
+the people don’t see and feel that they are sustaining low tyrants, in
+two-thirds of their silly clamour about the liberty of the press?”
+
+“Many do see it; and I think this engine has lost a great deal of its
+influence within the last few years. As respects proceedings in the
+courts, there never will be any true liberty in the country, until the
+newspapers are bound hand and foot.”
+
+“You are right enough in one thing, ’Squire, and that is in the ground
+the press has lost. It has pretty much used itself up in Duke’s; and I
+would pillow and horse-shed a cause through against it, the best day it
+ever saw!”
+
+“By the way, Timms, you have not explained the pillowing process to me.”
+
+“I should think the word itself would do that, sir. You know how it is
+in the country. Half a dozen beds are put in the same room, and two in a
+bed. Waal, imagine three or four jurors in one of these rooms, and two
+chaps along with ’em, with instructions how to talk. The conversation is
+the most innocent and nat’ral in the world; not a word too much or too
+little; but it sticks like a bur. The juror is a plain, simple-minded
+countryman, and swallows all that his room-mates say, and goes into the
+box next day in a beautiful frame of mind to listen to reason and
+evidence! No, no; give me two or three of these pillow-counsellors, and
+I’ll undo all that the journals can do, in a single conversation. You’ll
+remember, ’Squire, that we get the last word by this system; and if the
+first blow is half the battle in war, the last word is another half in
+the law. Oh! it’s a beautiful business, is this trial by jury.”
+
+“All this is very wrong, Timms. For a long time I have known that you
+have exercised an extraordinary influence over the jurors of Duke’s; but
+this is the first occasion on which you have been frank enough to reveal
+the process.”
+
+“Because this is the first occasion on which we have ever had a capital
+case together. In the present state of public opinion in Duke’s, I much
+question whether we can get a jury empannelled in this trial at all.”
+
+“The Supreme Court will then send us to town, by way of mending the
+matter. Apropos, Timms——”
+
+“One word if you please, ’Squire; what does _à propos_ really mean? I
+hear it almost every day, but never yet knew the meaning.”
+
+“It has shades of difference in its signification—as I just used it, it
+means ‘speaking of _that_.’”
+
+“And is it right to say à propos _to_ such a thing?”
+
+“It is better to say à propos _of_, as the French do. In old English it
+was always _to_; but in our later mode of speaking, we say ‘of.’”
+
+“Thank you, sir. You know how I glean my knowledge in driblets; and out
+in the country not always from the highest authorities. Plain and
+uncouth as I know I appear to you, and to Miss Sarah, I have an ambition
+to be a gentleman. Now, I have observation enough to see that it is
+these little matters, after all, and not riches and fine clothes, that
+make gentlemen and ladies.”
+
+“I am glad you have so much discrimination, Timms; but, you must permit
+me to remark, that you will never make a gentleman until you learn to
+let your nose alone.”
+
+“Thank you, sir—I am thankful for even the smallest hints on manners.
+It’s a pity that so handsome and so agreeable a young lady should be
+hanged, Mr. Dunscomb!”
+
+“Timms, you are as shrewd a fellow, in your own way, as I know. Your law
+does not amount to any great matter, nor do you take hold of the strong
+points of a case very often; but you perform wonders with the weaker. In
+the way of an opinion on facts, I know few men more to be relied on.
+Tell me, then, frankly, what do you think of the guilt or innocence of
+Mary Monson?”
+
+Timms screwed up his mouth, passed a hand over his brow, and did not
+answer for near a minute.
+
+“Perhaps it is right, after all, that we should understand each other on
+this subject,” he then said. “We are associated as counsel, and I feel
+it a great honour to be so associated, ’Squire Dunscomb, I give you my
+word; and it is proper that we should be as free with each other as
+brothers. In the first place, then, I never saw such a client before, as
+this same lady—for lady I suppose we must call her until she is
+convicted——”
+
+“Convicted!—You cannot think there is much danger of _that_, Timms?”
+
+“We never know, sir; we never know. I have lost cases of which I was
+sure, and gained them of which I had no hopes—cases which I certainly
+ought not to have gained—ag’in all law and the facts.”
+
+“Ay, that came of the horse-shed, and the sleeping of two in a bed.”
+
+“Perhaps it did, ’Squire,” returned Timms, laughing very freely, though
+without making any noise; “perhaps it did. When the small-pox is about,
+there is no telling who may take it. As for this case, ’Squire Dunscomb,
+it is my opinion we shall have to run for disagreements. If we can get
+the juries to disagree once or twice, and can get a change of _venue_,
+with a couple of charges, the deuce is in it if a man of your experience
+don’t corner them so tightly, they’ll give the matter up, rather than
+have any more trouble about it. After all, the state can’t gain much by
+hanging a young woman that nobody knows, even if she be a little
+aristocratical. We must get her to change her dress altogether, and some
+of her ways too; which, in her circumstances, I call downright hanging
+ways; and the sooner she is rid of them, the better.”
+
+“I see that you do not think us very strong on the merits, Timms, which
+is as much as admitting the guilt of our client. I was a good deal
+inclined to suspect the worst myself; but two or three more interviews,
+and what my nephew Jack Wilmeter tells me, have produced a change. I am
+now strongly inclined to believe her innocent. She has some great and
+secret cause of apprehension, I will allow; but I do not think these
+unfortunate Goodwins have anything to do with it.”
+
+“Waal, one never knows. The verdict, if ‘not guilty,’ will be just as
+good as if she was as innocent as a child a year old. I see how the work
+is to be done. All the law, and the summing up, will fall to your share;
+while the outdoor work will be mine. We _may_ carry her through—though
+I’m of opinion that, if we do, it will be more by means of bottom than
+by means of foot. There is one thing that is very essential, sir—the
+money must hold out.”
+
+“Do you want a refresher so soon, Timms?—Jack tells me that she has
+given you two hundred and fifty dollars already!”
+
+“I acknowledge it, sir; and a very respectable fee it is—_you_ ought to
+have a thousand, ’Squire.”
+
+“I have not received a cent, nor do I mean to touch any of her money. My
+feelings are in the case, and I am willing to work for nothing.”
+
+Timms gave his old master a quick but scrutinizing glance. Dunscomb was
+youthful, in all respects, for his time of life; and many a man has
+loved, and married, and become the parent of a flourishing family, who
+had seen all the days he had seen. That glance was to inquire if it were
+possible that the uncle and nephew were likely to be rivals, and to
+obtain as much knowledge as could be readily gleaned in a quick, jealous
+look. But the counsellor was calm as usual, and no tinge of colour, no
+sigh, no gentleness of expression, betrayed the existence of the master
+passion. It was reported among the bachelor’s intimates that formerly,
+when he was about five-and-twenty, he had had an affair of the heart,
+which had taken such deep hold that even the lady’s marriage with
+another man had not destroyed its impression. That marriage was said not
+to have been happy, and was succeeded by a second, that was still less
+so; though the parties were affluent, educated, and possessed all the
+means that are commonly supposed to produce felicity. A single child was
+the issue of the first marriage, and its birth had shortly preceded the
+separation that followed. Three years later the father died, leaving the
+whole of a very ample fortune to this child, coupled with the strange
+request that Dunscomb, once the betrothed of her mother, should be the
+trustee and guardian of the daughter. This extraordinary demand had not
+been complied with, and Dunscomb had not seen any of the parties from
+the time he broke with his mistress. The heiress married young, died
+within the year, and left another heiress; but no further allusion to
+our counsellor was made, in any of the later wills and settlements.
+Once, indeed, he had been professionally consulted concerning the
+devises in favour of the granddaughter—a certain Mildred Millington—who
+was a second-cousin to Michael of that name, and as rich as he was poor.
+For some years, a sort of vague expectation prevailed that those two
+young Millingtons might marry; but a feud existed in the family, and
+little or no intercourse was permitted. The early removal of the young
+lady to a distant school prevented such a result; and Michael, in due
+time, fell within the influence of Sarah Wilmeter’s gentleness, beauty,
+and affection.
+
+Timms came to the conclusion that his old master was not in love.
+
+“It is very convenient to be rich, ’Squire,” this singular being
+remarked; “and I dare say it may be very pleasant to practise for
+nothing, when a man has his pocket full of money. I am poor, and have
+particular satisfaction in a good warm fee. By the way, sir, my part of
+the business requires plenty of money I do not think I can even commence
+operations with less than five hundred dollars.”
+
+Dunscomb leaned back, stretched forth an arm, drew his cheque-book from
+its niche, and filled a cheque for the sum just mentioned. This he
+quietly handed to Timms, without asking for any receipt; for, while he
+knew that his old student and fellow-practitioner was no more to be
+trusted in matters of practice than was an eel in the hand, he knew that
+he was scrupulously honest in matters of account. There was not a man in
+the state to whom Dunscomb would sooner confide the care of uncounted
+gold, or the administration of an estate, or the payment of a legacy,
+than this very individual; who, he also well knew, would not scruple to
+set all the provisions of the law at naught, in order to obtain a
+verdict, when his feelings were really in the case.
+
+“There, Timms,” said the senior counsel, glancing at his draft before he
+handed it to the other, in order to see that it was correct; “there is
+what you ask for. Five hundred for expenses, and half as much as a fee.”
+
+“Thank you, sir. I hope this is not gratuitous, as well as the
+services?”
+
+“It is not. There is no want of funds, and I am put in possession of
+sufficient money to carry us through with credit; but it is as a
+trustee, and not as a fee. This, indeed, is the most extraordinary part
+of the whole affair;—to find a delicate, educated, accomplished lady,
+with her pockets well lined, in such a situation!”
+
+“Why, ’Squire,” said Timms, passing his hand down his chin, and trying
+to look simple and disinterested, “I am afraid clients like ours are
+often flush. I have been employed about the Tombs a good deal in my
+time, and I have gin’rally found that the richest clients were the
+biggest rogues.”
+
+Dunscomb gave his companion a long and contemplative look. He saw that
+Timms did not entertain quite as favourable an opinion of Mary Monson as
+he did himself, or rather that he was fast getting to entertain; for his
+own distrust originally was scarcely less than that of this hackneyed
+dealer with human vices. A long, close, and stringent examination of all
+of Timms’s facts succeeded—facts that had been gleaned by collecting
+statements on the spot. Then a consultation followed, from which it
+might be a little premature, just now, to raise the veil.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER IX.
+
+ “—–Her speech is nothing,
+ Yet the unshaped use of it doth move
+ The hearers to collection. They aim at it,
+ And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts.”
+ _Hamlet._
+
+
+The reader is not to be surprised at the intimacy which existed between
+Thomas Dunscomb and the half-educated semi-rude being who was associated
+with him as counsel in the important cause that was now soon to be
+tried. Such intimacies are by no means uncommon in the course of events;
+men often overlooking great dissimilarities in principles, as well as in
+personal qualities, in managing their associations, so far as they are
+connected with the affairs of this world. The circumstance that Timms
+had studied in our counsellor’s office would, as a matter of course,
+produce certain relations between them in after-life; but the student
+had made himself useful to his former master on a great variety of
+occasions, and was frequently employed by him whenever there was a cause
+depending in the courts of Duke’s, the county in which the unpolished,
+half-educated, but hard-working and successful county practitioner had
+established himself. It may be questioned if Dunscomb really knew all
+the agencies set in motion by his coadjutor in difficult cases; but,
+whether he did or not, it is quite certain that many of them were of a
+character not to see the light. It is very much the fashion of our good
+republic to turn up its nose at all other lands, a habit no doubt
+inherited from our great ancestors the English; and one of its standing
+themes of reproach are the legal corruptions and abuses known to exist
+in France, Spain, Italy, &c.; all over the world, in short, except among
+ourselves. So far as the judges are concerned, there is a surprising
+adherence to duty, when bribes alone are concerned, no class of men on
+earth being probably less obnoxious to just imputations of this
+character than the innumerable corps of judicial officers; unpaid, poor,
+hard-worked, and we might almost add unhonoured, as they are. That cases
+in which bribes are taken do occur, we make no doubt; it would be
+assuming too much in favour of human nature to infer the contrary; but,
+under the system of publicity that prevails, it would not be easy for
+this crime to extend very far without its being exposed. It is greatly
+to the credit of the vast judicial corps of the States, that bribery is
+an offence which does not appear to be even suspected at all; or, if
+there be exceptions to the rule, they exist in but few and isolated
+cases. Here, however, our eulogies on American justice must cease. All
+that Timms has intimated and Dunscomb has asserted concerning the juries
+is true; and the evil is one that each day increases. The tendency of
+everything belonging to the government is to throw power directly into
+the hands of the people, who, in nearly all cases, use it as men might
+be supposed to do who are perfectly irresponsible, have only a remote,
+and half the time an invisible interest in its exercise; who do not feel
+or understand the consequences of their own deeds, and have a pleasure
+in asserting a seeming independence, and of appearing to think and act
+for themselves. Under such a regime it is self-apparent that principles
+and law must suffer; and so the result proves daily, if not hourly. The
+institution of the jury, one of very questionable utility in its best
+aspects in a country of really popular institutions, becomes nearly
+intolerable, unless the courts exercise a strong and salutary influence
+on the discharge of its duties. This influence, unhappily, has been
+gradually lessening among us for the last half century, until it has
+reached a point where nothing is more common than to find the judge
+charging the law one way, and the jury determining it another. In most
+cases, it is true, there is a remedy for this abuse of power, but it is
+costly, and ever attended with that delay in hope “which maketh the
+heart sick.” Any one, of even the dullest apprehension, must, on a
+little reflection, perceive that a condition of things in which the
+_ends_ of justice are defeated, or so procrastinated as to produce the
+results of defeat, is one of the least desirable of all those in which
+men can be placed under the social compact; to say nothing of its
+corrupting and demoralizing effects on the public mind.
+
+All this Dunscomb saw, more vividly, perhaps, than most others of the
+profession, for men gradually get to be so accustomed to abuses as not
+only to tolerate them, but to come to consider them as evils inseparable
+from human frailty. It was certain, however, that while our worthy
+counsellor so far submitted to the force of things as frequently to
+close his eyes to Timms’s manœuvres, a weakness of which nearly every
+one is guilty who has much to do with the management of men and things,
+he was never known to do aught himself that was unworthy of his high
+standing and well-merited reputation at the bar. There is nothing
+unusual in this convenient compromise between direct and indirect
+relations with that which is wrong.
+
+It had early been found necessary to employ local counsel in Mary
+Monson’s case, and Timms was recommended by his old master as one every
+way suited to the particular offices needed. Most of the duties to be
+performed were strictly legal; though it is not to be concealed that
+some soon presented themselves that would not bear the light. John
+Wilmeter communicated to Timms the particular state of the testimony, as
+he and Michael Millington had been enabled to get at it; and among other
+things he stated his conviction that the occupants of the farm nearest
+to the late dwelling of the Goodwins were likely to prove some of the
+most dangerous of the witnesses against their client. This family
+consisted of a sister-in-law, the Mrs. Burton already mentioned, three
+unmarried sisters, and a brother, who was the husband of the person
+first named. On this hint Timms immediately put himself in communication
+with these neighbours, concealing from them, as well as from all others
+but good Mrs. Gott, that he was retained in the case at all.
+
+Timms was soon struck with the hints and half-revealed statements of the
+persons of this household; more especially with those of the female
+portion of it. The man appeared to him to have observed less than his
+wife and sisters; but even he had much to relate, though, as Timms
+fancied, more that he had gleaned from those around him, than from his
+own observations. The sisters, however, had a good deal to say; while
+the wife, though silent and guarded, seemed to this observer, as well as
+to young Millington, to know the most. When pressed to tell all, Mrs.
+Burton looked melancholy and reluctant, frequently returning to the
+subject of her own accord when it had been casually dropped, but never
+speaking explicitly, though often invited so to do. It was not the cue
+of the counsel for the defence to drag out unfavourable evidence; and
+Timms employed certain confidential agents, whom he often used in the
+management of his causes, to sift this testimony as well as it could be
+done without the constraining power of the law. The result was not very
+satisfactory, in any sense, more appearing to be suppressed than was
+related. It was feared that the legal officers of the State would meet
+with better success.
+
+The investigations of the junior counsel did not end here. He saw that
+the public sentiment was setting in a current so strongly against Mary
+Monson, that he soon determined to counteract it, as well as might be,
+by producing a reaction. This is a very common, not to say a very
+powerful agent, in the management of all interests that are subject to
+popular opinion, in a democracy. Even the applicant for public favour is
+none the worse for beginning his advances by “a little aversion,”
+provided he can contrive to make the premeditated change in his favour
+take the aspect of a reaction. It may not be so easy to account for this
+caprice of the common mind, as it is certain that it exists. Perhaps we
+like to yield to a seeming generosity, have a pleasure in appearing to
+pardon, find a consolation for our own secret consciousness of errors,
+in thus extending favour to the errors of others, and have more
+satisfaction in preferring those who are fallible, than in exalting the
+truly upright and immaculate; if, indeed, any such there be. Let the
+cause be what it may, we think the facts to be beyond dispute; and so
+thought Timms also, for he no sooner resolved to counteract one public
+opinion by means of another, than he set about the task with coolness
+and intelligence—in short, with a mixture of all the good and bad
+qualities of the man.
+
+The first of his measures was to counteract, as much as he could, the
+effects of certain paragraphs that had appeared in some of the New York
+journals. A man of Timms’s native shrewdness had no difficulty in
+comprehending the more vulgar moral machinery of a daily press.
+Notwithstanding its ‘we’s,’ and its pretension to represent public
+opinion, and to protect the common interests, he thoroughly understood
+it was merely one mode of advancing the particular views, sustaining the
+personal schemes, and not unfrequently of gratifying the low malignity
+of a single individual; the press in America differing from that of
+nearly all other countries in the fact that it is not controlled by
+associations, and does not reflect the decisions of many minds, or
+contend for principles that, by their very character, have a tendency to
+elevate the thoughts. There are some immaterial exceptions as relates to
+the latter characteristic, perhaps, principally growing out of the great
+extra-constitutional question of slavery, that has quite unnecessarily
+been drawn into the discussions of the times through the excited warmth
+of zealots; but, as a rule, the exciting political questions that
+elsewhere compose the great theme of the newspapers, enlarging their
+views, and elevating their articles, may be regarded as settled among
+ourselves. In the particular case with which Timms was now required to
+deal, there was neither favour nor malice to counteract. The injustice,
+and a most cruel injustice it was, was merely in catering to a morbid
+desire for the marvellous in the vulgar, which might thus be turned to
+profit.
+
+Among the reporters there exists the same diversity of qualities as
+among other men, beyond a question; but the tendency of the use of all
+power is to abuse; and Timms was perfectly aware that these men had far
+more pride in the influence they wielded, than conscience in its
+exercise. A ten or a twenty dollar note, judiciously applied, would do a
+great deal with this “Palladium of our Liberties,”—there being at least
+a dozen of these important safeguards interested in the coming trial—our
+associate counsel very well knew; and Dunscomb suspected that some such
+application of the great persuader had been made, in consequence of one
+or two judicious and well-turned paragraphs that appeared soon after the
+consultation. But Timms’s management of the press was mainly directed to
+that of the county newspapers. There were three of these; and as they
+had better characters than most of the Manhattanese journals, so were
+they more confided in. It is true, that the whig readers never heeded in
+the least anything that was said in “The Duke’s County Democrat;” but
+the friends of the last took their revenge in discrediting all that
+appeared in the columns of the Biberry Whig. In this respect, the two
+great parties of the country were on a par; each manifesting a faith
+that, in a better cause, might suffice to move mountains; and, on the
+other hand, an unbelief that drove them into the dangerous folly of
+disregarding their foes. As Mary Monson had nothing to do with politics,
+it was not difficult to get suitable paragraphs inserted in the hostile
+columns, which was also done within eight-and-forty hours after the
+return of the junior counsel to his own abode.
+
+Timms, however, was far from trusting to the newspapers alone. He felt
+that it might be well enough to set ‘fire to fight fire;’ but his main
+reliance was on the services that could be rendered by a timely and
+judicious use of “the little member.” _Talkers_ was what he wanted; and
+well did he know where to find them, and how to get them at work. A few
+he paid in a direct, business-like way; taking no vouchers for the sums
+bestowed, the reader may be assured; but entering each item carefully in
+a little memorandum-book kept for his own private information. These
+strictly confidential agents went to work with experienced discretion
+but great industry, and soon had some ten or fifteen fluent female
+friends actively engaged in circulating “They says,” in their respective
+neighbourhoods.
+
+Timms had reflected a great deal on the character of the defence it
+might be most prudent to get up and enlarge on. Insanity had been worn
+out by too much use of late; and he scarce gave that plea a second
+thought. This particular means of defence had been discussed between him
+and Dunscomb, it is true; but each of the counsel felt a strong
+repugnance against resorting to it; the one on account of his
+indisposition to rely on anything but the truth; the other, to use his
+own mode of expressing himself on the occasion in question, because he
+“believed that jurors could no longer be humbugged with that plea. There
+have been all sorts of madmen and madwomen—”
+
+“Gentlemen and lady murderers”—put in Dunscomb, drily.
+
+“I ask your pardon, ’Squire; but, since you give me the use of my nose,
+I will offend as little as possible with the tongue—though, I rather
+conclude”—a form of expression much in favour with Timms—“that should
+our verdict be ‘guilty,’ you will be disposed to allow there may be one
+lady criminal in the world.”
+
+“She is a most extraordinary creature, Timms; bothers me more than any
+client I ever had!”
+
+“Indeed! Waal, I had set her down as just the contrary—for to me she
+seems to be as unconcerned as if the wise four-and-twenty had not
+presented her to justice in the name of the people.”
+
+“It is not in that sense that I am bothered—no client ever gave counsel
+less trouble than Mary Monson in that respect. To me, Timms, she does
+not appear to have any concern in reference to the result.”
+
+“Supreme innocence, or a well-practised experience. I have defended many
+a person whom I knew to be guilty, and two or three whom I believed to
+be innocent; but never before had as cool a client as this!”
+
+And very true was this. Even the announcement of the presentment by the
+grand jury appeared to give Mary Monson no great alarm. Perhaps she
+anticipated it from the first, and had prepared herself for the event,
+by an exercise of a firmness little common to her sex until the moments
+of extreme trial, when their courage would seem to rise with the
+occasion. On her companion, whom Timms had so elegantly styled her ‘Lady
+Friend,’ certainly as thoroughly vulgar an expression as was ever drawn
+into the service of the heroics in gentility, warm-hearted and faithful
+Marie Moulin, the intelligence produced far more effect. It will be
+remembered that Wilmeter overheard the single cry of “Mademoiselle” when
+this Swiss was first admitted to the gaol; after which an impenetrable
+veil closed around their proceedings. The utmost good feeling and
+confidence were apparent in the intercourse between the young mistress
+and her maid; if, indeed, Marie might thus be termed, after the manner
+in which she was treated. So far from being kept at the distance which
+it is usual to observe towards an attendant, the Swiss was admitted to
+Mary Monson’s table; and to the eyes of indifferent observers she might
+very well pass for what Timms had so elegantly called a “lady friend.”
+But Jack Wilmeter knew too much of the world to be so easily misled. It
+is true, that when he paid his short visits to the gaol, Marie Moulin
+sat sewing at the prisoner’s side, and occasionally she even hummed low,
+national airs while he was present; but knowing the original condition
+of the maid-servant, our young man was not to be persuaded that his
+uncle’s client was her peer, any more than were the jurors who,
+agreeably to that profound mystification of the common law, are thus
+considered and termed. Had not Jack Wilmeter known the real position of
+Marie Moulin, her “Mademoiselle” would have let him deeper into the
+secrets of the two than it is probable either ever imagined. This word,
+in common with those of “Monsieur” and “Madame,” are used, by French
+servants, differently from what they are used in general society.
+Unaccompanied by the names, the domestics of France commonly and
+exclusively apply them to the heads of families, or those they more
+immediately serve. Thus, it was far more probable that Marie Moulin,
+meeting a mere general acquaintance in the prisoner, would have called
+her “Mademoiselle Marie,” or “Mademoiselle Monson,” or whatever might be
+the name by which she had known the young lady, than by the general and
+still more respectful appellation of “Mademoiselle.” On this peculiarity
+of deportment Jack Wilmeter speculated profoundly; for a young man who
+is just beginning to submit to the passion of love is very apt to fancy
+a thousand things that he would never dream of seeing in his cooler
+moments. Still, John had fancied himself bound in the spells of another,
+until this extraordinary client of his uncle’s so unexpectedly crossed
+his path. Such is the human heart.
+
+Good and kind-hearted Mrs. Gott allowed the prisoner most of the
+privileges that at all comported with her duty. Increased precautions
+were taken for the security of the accused, as soon as the presentment
+of the grand jury was made, by a direct order from the court; but, these
+attended to, it was in the power of her whom Timms might have called the
+“lady sheriff,” to grant a great many little indulgences, which were
+quite cheerfully accorded, and, to all appearances, as gratefully
+accepted.
+
+John Wilmeter was permitted to pay two regular visits at the grate each
+day, and as many more as his ingenuity could invent plausible excuses
+for making. On all occasions Mrs. Gott opened the outer door with the
+greatest good will; and, like a true woman as she is, she had the tact
+to keep as far aloof from the barred window where the parties met, as
+the dimensions of the outer room would allow. Marie Moulin was equally
+considerate, generally plying her needle at such times, in the depth of
+the cell, with twice the industry manifested on other occasions.
+Nevertheless, nothing passed between the young people that called for
+this delicate reserve. The conversation, it is true, turned as little as
+possible on the strange and awkward predicament of one of the
+colloquists, or the employment that kept the young man at Biberry. Nor
+did it turn at all on love. There is a premonitory state in these
+attacks of the heart, during which skilful observers may discover the
+symptoms of approaching disease, but which do not yet betray the actual
+existence of the epidemic. On the part of Jack himself, it is true that
+these symptoms were getting to be not only somewhat apparent, but they
+were evidently fast becoming more and more distinct; while, on the part
+of the lady, any one disposed to be critical might have seen that her
+colour deepened, and there were signs of daily increasing interest in
+them, as the hours for these interviews approached. She was interested
+in her young legal adviser; and interest, with women, is the usual
+precursor of the master-passion. Wo betide the man who cannot interest,
+but who only amuses!
+
+Although so little to the point was said in the short dialogues between
+Wilmeter and Mary Monson, there were dialogues held with the good Mrs.
+Gott, by each of the parties respectively, in which less reserve was
+observed; and the heart was permitted to have more influence over the
+movements of the tongue. The first of these conversations that we deem
+it necessary to relate, that took place after the presentment, was one
+that immediately succeeded an interview at the barred window, and which
+occurred three days subsequently to the consultation in town, and two
+after Timms’s machinery was actively at work in the county.
+
+“Well, how do you find her spirits to-day, Mr. Wilmington?” asked Mrs.
+Gott, kindly, and catching the conventional sound of the young man’s
+name, from having heard it so often in the mouth of Michael Millington.
+“It is an awful state for any human being to be in, and she a young,
+delicate woman; to be tried for murder, and for setting fire to a house,
+and all so soon!”
+
+“The most extraordinary part of this very extraordinary business, Mrs.
+Gott,” Jack replied, “is the perfect indifference of Miss Monson to her
+fearful jeopardy! To me, she seems much more anxious to be closely
+immured in gaol, than to escape from a trial that one would think, of
+itself, might prove more than so delicate a young lady could bear up
+against.”
+
+“Very true, Mr. Wilmington; and she never seems to think of it at all!
+You see what she has done, sir?”
+
+“Done!—Nothing in particular, I hope?”
+
+“I don’t know what _you_ call particular; but to me it does seem to be
+remarkably particular. Didn’t you hear a piano, and another musical
+instrument, as you approached the gaol?”
+
+“I did, certainly, and wondered who could produce such admirable music
+in Biberry.”
+
+“Biberry has a great many musical ladies, I can tell you, Mr.
+Wilmington,” returned Mrs. Gott, a little coldly, though her good-nature
+instantly returned, and shone out in one of her most friendly smiles;
+“and those, too, that have been to town and heard all the great
+performers from Europe, of whom there have been so many of late years. I
+have heard good judges say that Duke’s county is not much behind the
+Island of Manhattan with the piano in particular.”
+
+“I remember, when at Rome, to have heard an Englishman say that some
+young ladies from Lincolnshire were astonishing the Romans with their
+Italian accent, in singing Italian operas,” answered Jack, smiling.
+“There is no end, my dear Mrs. Gott, to provincial perfection in all
+parts of the world.”
+
+“I believe I understand you, but I am not at all offended at your
+meaning. We are not very sensitive about the gaols. One thing I will
+admit, however; Mary Monson’s harp is the first, I rather think, that
+was ever heard in Biberry. Gott tells me”—this was the familiar manner
+in which the good woman spoke of the _high_ sheriff of Duke’s, as the
+journals affectedly call that functionary—“that he once met some German
+girls strolling about the county, playing and singing for money, and who
+had just such an instrument, but not one-half as elegant; and it has
+brought to my mind a suspicion that Mary Monson may be one of these
+travelling musicians.”
+
+“What? to stroll about the country, and play and sing in the streets of
+villages!”
+
+“No, not that; I see well enough she cannot be of _that_ sort. But,
+there are all descriptions of musicians, as well as all descriptions of
+doctors and lawyers, Mr. Wilmington. Why may not Mary Monson be one of
+these foreigners who get so rich by singing and playing? She has just as
+much money as she wants, and spends it freely too. This I know, from
+seeing the manner in which she uses it. For my part, I wish she had less
+music and less money just now; for they are doing her no great good in
+Biberry!”
+
+“Why not? Can any human being find fault with melody and a liberal
+spirit?”
+
+“Folks will find fault with anything, Mr. Wilmington, when they have
+nothing better to do. You know how it is with our villagers here, as
+well as I do. Most people think Mary Monson guilty, and a few do not.
+Those that think her guilty say it is insolent in her to be singing and
+playing in the very gaol in which she is confined; and talk loud against
+her for that very reason.”
+
+“Would they deprive her of a consolation as innocent as that she obtains
+from her harp and her piano, in addition to her other sufferings! Your
+Biberry folk must be particularly hard-hearted, Mrs. Gott.”
+
+“Biberry people are like York people, and American people, and English
+people, and all other people, I fancy, if the truth was known, Mr.
+Wilmington. What they don’t like they disapprove of, that’s all. Now,
+was I one of them that believe Mary Monson did actually murder the
+Goodwins, and plunder their drawers, and set fire to their house, it
+would go ag’in _my_ feelings too, to hear her music, well as she plays,
+and sweet as she draws out the sounds from those wires. Some of our
+folks take the introduction of the harp into the gaol particularly
+hard!”
+
+“Why that instrument more than another? It was the one on which David
+played.”
+
+“They say it _was_ David’s favourite, and ought only to be struck to
+religious words and sounds.”
+
+“It is a little surprising that your excessively conscientious people so
+often forget that charity is the chiefest of all the Christian graces.”
+
+“They think that the love of God comes first, and that they ought never
+to lose sight of his honour and glory. But I agree with you, Mr.
+Wilmington; ‘feel for your fellow-creatures’ is my rule; and I’m certain
+I am then feeling for my Maker. Yes; many of the neighbours insist that
+a harp is unsuited to a gaol, and they tell me that the instrument on
+which Mary Monson plays is a real antique.”
+
+“Antique! What, a harp made in remote ages?”
+
+“No, I don’t mean that exactly,” returned Mrs. Gott, colouring a little;
+“but a harp made so much like those used by the Psalmist, that one could
+not tell them apart.”
+
+“I dare say David had many varieties of stringed instruments, from the
+lute up; but harps are very common, Mrs. Gott—so common that we hear
+them now in the streets, and on board the steamboats even. There is
+nothing new in them, even in this country.”
+
+“Yes, sir, in the streets and on board the boats; but the public will
+tolerate things done for _them_, that they won’t tolerate in
+individuals. I suppose you know _that_, Mr. Wilmington?”
+
+“We soon learn as much in this country—but the gaols are made for the
+public, and the harps ought to be privileged in them, as well as in
+other public places.”
+
+“I don’t know how it is—I’m not very good at reasoning—but, somehow or
+another, the neighbours don’t like that Mary Monson should play on the
+harp; or even on the piano, situated as she is. I do wish, Mr.
+Wilmington, you could give her a hint on the subject?”
+
+“Shall I tell her that the music is unpleasant to _you_?”
+
+“As far from that as possible! I delight in it; but the neighbours do
+not. Then she never shows herself at the grate, to folks outside, like
+all the other prisoners. The public wants to see and to converse with
+her.”
+
+“You surely could not expect a young and educated female to be making a
+spectacle of herself, for the gratification of the eyes of all the
+vulgar and curious in and about Biberry!”
+
+“Hush—Mr. Wilmington, you are most too young to take care of such a
+cause. ’Squire Timms, now, is a man who understands Duke’s county, and
+he would tell you it is not wise to talk of the vulgar hereabouts; at
+least not until the verdict is in. Besides, most people would think that
+folks have a right to look at a prisoner in the common gaol. I know they
+act as if they thought so.”
+
+“It is hard enough to be accused and confined, without subjecting the
+party to any additional degradation. No man has a right to ask to look
+at Miss Monson, but those she sees fit to receive, and the officials of
+the law. It would be an outrage to tolerate mere idle curiosity.”
+
+“Well, if you think so, Mr. Wilmington, do not let everybody know it.
+Several of the clergy have either been here, or have sent to offer their
+visits, if acceptable.”
+
+“And what has been the answer?” demanded Jack, a little eagerly.
+
+“Mary Monson has received all these offers as if she had been a queen!
+politely, but coldly; once or twice, or when the Methodist and the
+Baptist came, and they commonly come first, I thought she seemed hurt.
+Her colour went and came like lightning. Now, she was pale as
+death—next, as bright as a rose—what a colour she has at times, Mr.
+Wilmington! Duke’s is rather celebrated for rosy faces; but it would be
+hard to find her equal when she is not thinking.”
+
+“Of what, my good Mrs. Gott?”
+
+“Why, most of the neighbours say, of the Goodwins. For my part, as I do
+not believe she ever hurt a hair of the head of the old man and old
+woman, I can imagine that she has disagreeable things to think of that
+are in nowise connected with _them_.”
+
+“She certainly has disagreeable things to make her cheeks pale that
+_are_ connected with that unfortunate couple. But, I ought to know all:
+To what else do the neighbours object?”
+
+“To the foreign tongues—they think when a grand jury has found a bill,
+the accused ought to talk nothing but plain English, so that all near
+her can understand what she says.”
+
+“In a word, it is not thought sufficient to be accused of such a crime
+as murder, but all other visitations must follow, to render the charge
+as horrible as may be!”
+
+“That is not the way they look at it. The public fancies that in a
+public matter they have a right to know all about a thing.”
+
+“And when there is a failure in the proof, they imagine, invent, and
+assert.”
+
+“’Tis the ways of the land. I suppose all nations have their ways, and
+follow them.”
+
+“One thing surprises me a little in this matter,” Jack rejoined, after
+musing a moment; “it is this. In most cases in which women have any
+connection with the law, the leaning in this country, and more
+particularly of late, has been in their favour.”
+
+“Well,” Mrs. Gott quietly but quickly interrupted, “and ought it not to
+be so?”
+
+“It ought not, unless the merits are with them. Justice is intended to
+do that which is equitable; and it is not fair to assume that women are
+always right, and men always wrong. I know my uncle thinks that not only
+the decisions of late years, but the laws, have lost sight of the wisdom
+of the past, and are gradually placing the women above the men, making
+_her_ instead of _him_ the head of the family.”
+
+“Well, Mr. Wilmington, and isn’t that quite right?” demanded Mrs. Gott,
+with a good-natured nod.
+
+“My uncle thinks it very wrong, and that by a mistaken gallantry the
+peace of families is undermined, and their discipline destroyed; as, in
+punishment, by a false philanthropy, rogues are petted at the expense of
+honest folk. Such are the opinions of Mr. Thomas Dunscomb, at least.”
+
+“Ay, Mr. Thomas Dunscomb is an old bachelor; and bachelors’ wives, and
+bachelors’ children, as we well know, are always admirably managed. It
+is a pity they are not more numerous,” retorted the indomitably
+good-humoured wife of the sheriff. “But, you see that, in this case of
+Mary Monson, the feeling is against, rather than in favour of a woman.
+That may be owing to the fact that one of the persons murdered was a
+lady also.”
+
+“Dr. McBrain says that both were females—or lady-murdered—as I suppose
+we must call them; as doubtless you have heard, Mrs. Gott. Perhaps he is
+believed, and the fact may make doubly against the accused.”
+
+“He is _not_ believed. Everybody hereabouts _knows_, that one of the
+skeletons was that of Peter Goodwin. They say that the District Attorney
+means to show _that_, beyond all dispute. They tell me that it is a law,
+in a case of this sort, first to show there has been a murder; second,
+to show who did it.”
+
+“This is something like the course of proceeding, I believe; though I
+never sat on a trial for this offence. It is of no great moment what the
+district attorney does, so that he do not prove that Miss Monson is
+guilty; and this, my kind-hearted Mrs. Gott, you and I do not believe he
+_can_ do.”
+
+“In that we are agreed, sir. I no more think that Mary Monson did these
+things, than I think I did them myself.”
+
+Jack expressed his thanks in a most grateful look, and there the
+interview terminated.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER X.
+
+ “In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed;
+ In war he mounts the warrior’s steed;
+ In halls, in gay attire is seen;
+ In hamlets, dances on the green.
+ Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,
+ And men below, and saints above;
+ For love is heaven, and heaven is love.”
+ _Scott._
+
+
+“It is the ways of the land,” said good Mrs. Gott, in one of her remarks
+in the conversation just related. Other usages prevail, in connection
+with other interests; and the time is come when we must refer to one of
+them. In a word, Dr. McBrain and Mrs. Updyke were about to be united in
+the bands of matrimony. As yet we have said very little of the intended
+bride; but the incidents of our tale render it now necessary to bring
+her more prominently on the stage, and to give some account of herself
+and family.
+
+Anna Wade was the only child of very respectable and somewhat affluent
+parents. At nineteen she married a lawyer of suitable years, and became
+Mrs. Updyke. This union lasted but eight years, when the wife was left a
+widow with two children; a son and a daughter. In the course of time
+these children grew up, the mother devoting herself to their care,
+education and well-being. In all this there was nothing remarkable,
+widowed mothers doing as much daily, with a self-devotion that allies
+them to the angels. Frank Updyke, the son, had finished his education,
+and was daily expected to arrive from a tour of three years in Europe.
+Anna, her mother’s namesake, was at the sweet age of nineteen, and the
+very counterpart of what the elder Anna had been at the same period in
+life. The intended bride was far from being unattractive, though fully
+five-and-forty. In the eyes of Dr. McBrain, she was even charming;
+although she did not exactly answer those celebrated conditions of
+female influence that have been handed down to us in the familiar toast
+of a voluptuous English prince. Though forty, Mrs. Updyke was neither
+‘fat’ nor ‘fair;’ being a brunette of a well-preserved and still
+agreeable person.
+
+It was perhaps a little singular, after having escaped the temptations
+of a widowhood of twenty years, that this lady should think of marrying
+at a time of life when most females abandon the expectation of changing
+their condition. But Mrs. Updyke was a person of a very warm heart; and
+she foresaw the day when she was to be left alone in the world. Her son
+was much inclined to be a rover; and, in his letters, he talked of still
+longer journeys, and of more protracted absences from home. He inherited
+an independency from his father, and had now been his own master for
+several years. Anna was much courted by the circle to which she
+belonged; and young, affluent, pretty to the very verge of beauty,
+gentle, quiet, and singularly warm-hearted, it was scarcely within the
+bounds of possibility that she could escape an early marriage in a state
+of society like that of Manhattan. These were the reasons Mrs. Updyke
+gave to her female confidants, when she deemed it well to explain the
+motives of her present purpose. Without intending to deceive, there was
+not a word of truth in these explanations. In point of fact, Mrs.
+Updyke, well as she had loved the husband of her youth, preserved _les
+beaux restes_ of a very warm and affectionate heart; and McBrain, a
+well-preserved, good-looking man, about a dozen years older than
+herself, had found the means to awaken its sympathies to such a degree,
+as once more to place the comely widow completely within the category of
+Cupid. It is very possible for a woman of forty to love, and to love
+with all her heart; though the world seldom takes as much interest in
+her weaknesses, if weakness it is, as in those of younger and fairer
+subjects of the passion. To own the truth, Mrs. Updyke was profoundly in
+love, while her betrothed met her inclination with an answering sympathy
+that, to say the least, was fully equal to any tender sentiment he had
+succeeded in awakening.
+
+All this was to Tom Dunscomb what he called “nuts.” Three times had he
+seen his old friend in this pleasant state of feeling, and three times
+was he chosen to be an attendant at the altar; once in the recognised
+character of a groomsman, and on the other two occasions in that of a
+chosen friend. Whether the lawyer had himself completely escaped the
+darts of the little god, no one could say, so completely had he
+succeeded in veiling this portion of his life from observation; but,
+whether he had or not, he made those who did submit to the passion the
+theme of his untiring merriment.
+
+Children usually regard these tardy inclinations of their parents with
+surprise, if not with downright distaste. Some little surprise the
+pretty Anna Updyke may have felt, when she was told by a venerable
+great-aunt that her mother was about to be married; but of distaste
+there was none. She had a strong regard for her new step-father, that
+was to be; and thought it the most natural thing in the world to love.
+Sooth to say, Anna Updyke had not been out two years—the American girls
+are brought out so young!—without having sundry suitors. Manhattan is
+the easiest place in the world for a pretty girl, with a good fortune,
+to get offers. Pretty girls with good fortunes are usually in request
+everywhere, but it requires the precise state of society that exists in
+the “Great _Commercial_ Emporium,” to give a young woman the highest
+chance in the old lottery. There, where one-half of the world came from
+other worlds some half a dozen years since; where a good old Manhattan
+name is regarded as upstart among a crowd that scarcely knows whence it
+was itself derived, and whither it is destined, and where few have any
+real position in society, and fewer still know what the true meaning of
+the term is, money and beauty are the constant objects of pursuit. Anna
+Updyke formed no exception. She had declined, in the gentlest manner
+possible, no less than six direct offers, coming from those who were
+determined to lose nothing by diffidence; had thrown cold water on more
+than twice that number of little flames that were just beginning to
+burn; and had thrown into the fire some fifteen or sixteen anonymous
+effusions, in prose and verse, that came from adventurers who could
+admire from a distance, at the opera and in the streets, but who had no
+present means of getting any nearer than these indirect attempts at
+communication. We say “thrown into the fire;” for Anna was too prudent,
+and had too much self-respect, to retain such documents, coming, as they
+did, from so many “Little Unknowns.” The anonymous effusions were
+consequently burnt—with one exception. The exception was in the case of
+a sonnet, in which her hair—and very beautiful it is—was the theme. From
+some of the little free-masonry of the intercourse of the sexes, Anna
+fancied these lines had been written by Jack Wilmeter, one of the most
+constant of her visiters, as well as one of her admitted favourites.
+Between Jack and Anna there had been divers passages of gallantry, which
+had been very kindly viewed by McBrain and the mother. The parties
+themselves did not understand their own feelings; for matters had not
+gone far, when Mary Monson so strangely appeared on the stage, and drew
+Jack off, on the trail of wonder and mystery, if not on that of real
+passion. As Sarah Wilmeter was the most intimate friend of Anna Updyke,
+it is not extraordinary that this singular fancy of the brother’s should
+be the subject of conversation between the two young women, each of whom
+probably felt more interest in his movements than any other persons on
+earth. The dialogue we are about to relate took place in Anna’s own
+room, the morning of the day which preceded that of the wedding, and
+followed naturally enough, as the sequence of certain remarks which had
+been made on the approaching event.
+
+“If _my_ mother were living, and _must_ be married,” said Sarah
+Wilmeter, “I should be very well content to have _such_ a man as Dr.
+McBrain for a step-father. I have known him all my life, and he is, and
+ever has been, so intimate with uncle Tom, that I almost think him a
+near relation.”
+
+“And I have known him as long as I can remember,” Anna steadily
+rejoined, “and have not only a great respect, but a warm regard for him.
+Should I ever marry myself, I do not believe I shall have one-half the
+attachment for my father-in-law as I am sure I shall feel for my
+step-father.”
+
+“How do you know there will be any father-in-law in the case? I am sure
+John has no parent.”
+
+“John!” returned Anna, faintly—“What is John to me?”
+
+“Thank you, my dear—he is something, at least, to _me_.”
+
+“To be sure—a brother naturally is—but Jack is no brother of mine, you
+will please to remember.”
+
+Sarah cast a quick, inquiring look at her friend; but the eyes of Anna
+were thrown downward on the carpet, while the bloom on her cheek spread
+to her temples. Her friend saw that, in truth, Jack was no _brother of
+hers_.
+
+“What I mean is this”—continued Sarah, following a thread that ran
+through her own mind, rather than anything that had been already
+expressed—“Jack is making himself a very silly fellow just now.”
+
+Anna now raised her eyes; her lip quivered a little, and the bloom
+deserted even her cheek. Still, she made no reply. Women can listen
+acutely at such moments; but it commonly exceeds their powers to speak.
+The friends understood each other, as Sarah well knew, and she continued
+her remarks precisely as if the other had answered them.
+
+“Michael Millington brings strange accounts of Jack’s behaviour at
+Biberry! He says that he seems to do nothing, think of nothing, talk of
+nothing, but of the hardship of this Mary Monson’s case.”
+
+“I’m sure it is cruel enough to awaken the pity of a rock,” said Anna
+Updyke, in a low tone; “a woman, and she a lady, accused of such
+terrible crimes—murder and arson!”
+
+“What is arson, child?—and how do _you_ know anything about it?”
+
+Again Anna coloured, her feelings being all sensitiveness on this
+subject; which had caused her far more pain than she had experienced
+from any other event in her brief life. It was, however, necessary to
+answer.
+
+“Arson is setting fire to an inhabited house,” she said, after a
+moment’s reflection; “and I know it from having been told its
+signification by Mr. Dunscomb.”
+
+“Did uncle Tom say anything of this Mary Monson, and of Jack’s singular
+behaviour?”
+
+“He spoke of his client as a very extraordinary person, and of her
+accomplishments, and readiness, and beauty. Altogether, he does not seem
+to know what to make of her.”
+
+“And what did he say about Jack?—You need have no reserve with me, Anna;
+I am his sister.”
+
+“I know that very well, dear Sarah—but Jack’s name was not mentioned, I
+believe—certainly not at the particular time, and in the conversation to
+which I now refer.”
+
+“But at some _other_ time, my dear, and in some _other_ conversation.”
+
+“He did once say something about your brother’s being very attentive to
+the interests of the person he calls his Duke’s county client—nothing
+more, I do assure you. It is the duty of young lawyers to be very
+attentive to the interests of their clients, I should think.”
+
+“Assuredly—and that most especially when the client is a young lady with
+a pocket full of money. But Jack is above want, and can afford to act
+right at all times and on all occasions. I wish he had never seen this
+strange creature.”
+
+Anna Updyke sat silent for some little time, playing with the hem of her
+pocket-handkerchief. Then she said timidly, speaking as if she wished an
+answer, even while she dreaded it—
+
+“Does not Marie Moulin know something about her?”
+
+“A great deal, if she would only tell it. But Marie, too, has gone over
+to the enemy, since she has seen this siren. Not a word can I get out of
+her, though I have written three letters, beyond the fact that she knows
+_Mademoiselle_, and that she cannot believe her guilty.”
+
+“The last, surely, is very important. If really innocent, how hard has
+been the treatment she has received! It is not surprising that your
+brother feels so deep an interest in her. He is very warm-hearted and
+generous, Sarah; and it is just like him to devote his time and talents
+to the service of the oppressed.”
+
+It was Sarah’s turn to be silent and thoughtful. She made no answer, for
+she well understood that an impulse very different from that mentioned
+by her friend was, just then, influencing her brother’s conduct.
+
+We have related this conversation as the briefest mode of making the
+reader acquainted with the true state of things in and about the neat
+dwelling of Mrs. Updyke in Eighth-street. Much, however, remains to be
+told; as the morning of the very day which succeeded that on which the
+foregoing dialogue was held, was the one named for the wedding of the
+mistress of the house.
+
+At the very early hour of six, the party met at the church door, one of
+the most gothic structures in the new quarter of the town; and five
+minutes sufficed to make the two one. Anna sobbed as she saw her mother
+passing away from her, as it then appeared to her; and the bride herself
+was a little overcome. As for McBrain, as his friend Dunscomb expressed
+it, in a description given to a brother bachelor, who met him at dinner—
+
+“He stood fire like a veteran! You’re not going to frighten a fellow who
+has held forth the ring three times. You will remember that Ned has
+previously killed two wives, besides all the other folk he has slain;
+and I make no doubt the fellow’s confidence was a good deal increased by
+the knowledge he possesses that none of us are immortal—as husbands and
+wives, at least.”
+
+But Tom Dunscomb’s pleasantries had no influence on his friend’s
+happiness. Odd as it may appear to some, this connection was one of a
+warm and very sincere attachment. Neither of the parties had reached the
+period of life when nature begins to yield to the pressure of time; and
+there was the reasonable prospect before them of their contributing
+largely to each other’s future happiness. The bride was dressed with
+great simplicity, but with a proper care; and she really justified the
+passion that McBrain insisted, in his conversations with Dunscomb, that
+he felt for her. Youthful, for her time of life, modest in demeanour and
+aspect, still attractive in person, the ‘Widow Updyke’ became Mrs.
+McBrain, with as charming an air of womanly feeling as might have been
+exhibited by one of less than half her age. Covered with blushes, she
+was handed by the bridegroom into his own carriage, which stood at the
+church-door, and the two proceeded to Timbully.
+
+As for Anna Updyke, she went to pass a week in the country with Sarah
+Dunscomb; even a daughter being a little _de trop_, in a honey-moon.
+Rattletrap was the singular name Tom Dunscomb had given to his
+country-house. It was a small villa-like residence, on the banks of the
+Hudson, and within the island of Manhattan. Concealed in a wood, it was
+a famous place for a bachelor to hide his oddities in. Here Dunscomb
+concentrated all his out-of-the-way purchases, including ploughs that
+were never used, all sorts of farming utensils that were condemned to
+the same idleness, and such contrivances in the arts of fishing and
+shooting as struck his fancy; though the lawyer never handled a rod or
+levelled a fowling-piece. But Tom Dunscomb, though he professed to
+despise love, had fancies of his own. It gave him a certain degree of
+pleasure to _seem_ to have these several tastes; and he threw away a
+good deal of money in purchasing these characteristic ornaments for
+Rattletrap. When Jack Wilmeter ventured, one day, to ask his uncle what
+pleasure he could find in collecting so many costly and perfectly
+useless articles, implements that had not the smallest apparent
+connection with his ordinary pursuits and profession, he got the
+following answer:—
+
+“You are wrong, Jack, in supposing that these traps are useless. A
+lawyer has occasion for a vast deal of knowledge that he will never get
+out of his books. One should have the elements of all the sciences, and
+of most of the arts, in his mind, to make a thoroughly good advocate;
+for their application will become necessary on a thousand occasions,
+when Blackstone and Kent can be of no service. No, no; I prize my
+professions highly, and look upon Rattletrap as my Inn of Court.”
+
+Jack Wilmeter had come over from Biberry to attend the wedding, and had
+now accompanied the party into the country, as it was called; though the
+place of Dunscomb was so near town that it was not difficult, when the
+wind was at the southward, to hear the fire-bell on the City Hall. The
+meeting between John Wilmeter and Anna Updyke had been fortunately a
+little relieved by the peculiar circumstances in which the latter was
+placed. The feeling she betrayed, the pallor of her cheek, and the
+nervousness of her deportment, might all, naturally enough, be imputed
+to the emotions of a daughter, who saw her own mother standing at the
+altar, by the side of one who was not her natural father. Let this be as
+it might, Anna had the advantage of the inferences which those around
+her made on these facts. The young people met first in the church, where
+there was no opportunity for any exchange of language or looks. Sarah
+took her friend away with her alone, on the road to Rattletrap,
+immediately after the ceremony, in order to allow Anna’s spirits and
+manner to become composed, without being subjected to unpleasant
+observation. Dunscomb and his nephew drove out in a light vehicle of the
+latter’s; and Michael Millington appeared later at the villa, bringing
+with him to dinner, Timms, who came on business connected with the
+approaching trial.
+
+There never had been any love-making, in the direct meaning of the term,
+between John Wilmeter and Anna Updyke. They had known each other so long
+and so intimately, that both regarded the feeling of kindness that each
+knew subsisted, as a mere fraternal sort of affection. “Jack is Sarah’s
+brother,” thought Anna, when she permitted herself to reason on the
+subject at all; “and it is natural that I should have more friendship
+for him than for any other young man.” “Anna is Sarah’s most intimate
+friend,” thought Jack, “and that is the long and short of my attachment
+for _her_. Take away Sarah, and Anna would be nothing to me; though she
+is so pretty, and clever, and gentle, and lady-like. I must like those
+Anna likes, or it might make us both unhappy.” This was the reasoning of
+nineteen, and when Anna Updyke was just budding into young womanhood; at
+a later day, habit had got to be so much in the ascendant, that neither
+of the young people _thought_ much on the subject at all. The preference
+was strong in each—so strong, indeed, as to hover over the confines of
+passion, and quite near to its vortex; though the long accustomed
+feeling prevented either from entering into its analysis. The
+attachments that grow up with our daily associations, and get to be so
+interwoven with our most familiar thoughts, seldom carry away those who
+submit to them, in the whirlwind of passion; which are much more apt to
+attend sudden and impulsive love. Cases do certainly occur in which the
+parties have long known each other, and have lived on for years in a
+dull appreciation of mutual merit—sometimes with prejudices and
+alienation active between them; when suddenly all is changed, and the
+scene that was lately so tranquil and tame becomes tumultuous and
+glowing, and life assumes a new charm, as the profound emotions of
+passion chase away its dulness; substituting hope, and fears, and lively
+wishes, and soul-felt impressions in its stead. This is not usual in the
+course of the most wayward of all our impulses; but it does occasionally
+happen, brightening existence with a glow that might well be termed
+divine, were the colours bestowed derived from a love of the Creator, in
+lieu of that of one of his creatures. In these sudden awakenings of
+dormant feelings, some chord of mutual sympathy, some deep-rooted
+affinity is aroused, carrying away their possessors in a torrent of the
+feelings. Occasionally, wherever the affinity is active, the impulse
+natural and strongly sympathetic, these sudden and seemingly wayward
+attachments are the most indelible, colouring the whole of the remainder
+of life; but oftener do they take the character of mere impulse, rather
+than that of deeper sentiment, and disappear, as they were first seen,
+in some sudden glow of the horizon of the affections.
+
+In this brief analysis of some of the workings of the heart, we may find
+a clue to the actual frame of mind in which John Wilmeter returned from
+Biberry, where he had now been, like a sentinel on post, for several
+weeks, in vigilant watchfulness over the interests of Mary Monson.
+During all that time, however, he had not once been admitted within the
+legal limits of the prison; holding his brief, but rather numerous
+conferences with his client, at the little grate in the massive door
+that separated the gaol from the dwelling of the sheriff. Kind-hearted
+Mrs. Gott would have admitted him to the gallery, whenever he chose to
+ask that favour; but this act of courtesy had been forbidden by Mary
+Monson herself. Timms she did receive, and she conferred with him in
+private on more than one occasion, manifesting great earnestness in the
+consultations that preceded the approaching trial. But John Wilmeter she
+would receive only at the grate, like a nun in a well-regulated convent.
+Even this coyness contributed to feed the fire that had been so suddenly
+lighted in the young man’s heart, on which the strangeness of the
+prisoner’s situation, her personal attractions, her manners, and all the
+other known peculiarities of person, history, education and deportment,
+had united to produce a most lively impression, however fleeting it was
+to prove in the end.
+
+Had there been any direct communications on the subject of the
+attachment that had so long, so slowly, but so surely been taking root
+in the hearts of John and Anna, any reciprocity in open confidence, this
+unlooked-for impulse in a new direction could not have overtaken the
+young man. He did not know how profound was the interest that Anna took
+in him; nor, for that matter, was she aware of it herself, until Michael
+Millington brought the unpleasant tidings of the manner in which his
+friend seemed to be entranced with his uncle’s client at Biberry. Then,
+indeed, Anna was made to feel that surest attendant of the liveliest
+love, a pang of jealousy; and, for the first time in her young and
+innocent life, she became aware of the real nature of her sentiments in
+behalf of John Wilmeter. On the other hand, drawn aside from the
+ordinary course of his affections by sudden, impulsive, and exciting
+novelties, John was fast submitting to the influence of the charms of
+the fair stranger, as has been more than once intimated in our opening
+pages, as the newly-fallen snow melts under the rays of a noon-day sun.
+
+Such, then, was the state of matters in this little circle, when the
+wedding took place, and John Wilmeter joined the family party. Although
+Dunscomb did all he could to make the dinner gay, Rattletrap had seldom
+entertained a more silent company than that which sat down at its little
+round table on this occasion. John thought of Biberry and Mary Monson;
+Sarah’s imagination was quite busy in wondering why Michael Millington
+stayed away so long; and Anna was on the point of bursting into tears
+half-a-dozen times, under the depression produced by the joint events of
+her mother’s marriage, and John Wilmeter’s obvious change of deportment
+towards her.
+
+“What the deuce has kept Michael Millington and that fellow Timms, from
+joining us at dinner,” said the master of the house, as the fruit was
+placed upon the table; and, closing one eye, he looked with the other
+through the ruby rays of a glass of well-cooled Madeira—his favourite
+wine. “Both promised to be punctual; yet here are they both sadly out of
+time. They knew the dinner was to come off at four.”
+
+“As is one, sir, so are both,” answered John. “You will remember they
+were to come together?”
+
+“True—and Millington is rather a punctual man—especially in visiting at
+Rattletrap”—here Sarah blushed a little; but the engagement in her case
+being announced, there was no occasion for any particular confusion. “We
+shall have to take Michael with us into Duke’s next week, Miss Wilmeter;
+the case being too grave to neglect bringing up all our forces.”
+
+“Is Jack, too, to take a part in the trial, uncle Tom?” demanded the
+niece, with a little interest in the answer.
+
+“Jack, too—everybody, in short. When the life of a fine young woman is
+concerned, it behooves her counsel to be active and diligent. I have
+never before had a cause into which my feelings have so completely
+entered—no, never.”
+
+“Do not counsel always enter, heart and hand, into their clients’
+interests, and make themselves, as it might be, as you gentlemen of the
+bar sometimes term these things, a ‘part and parcel’ of their concerns?”
+
+This question was put by Sarah, but it caused Anna to raise her eyes
+from the fruit she was pretending to eat, and to listen intently to the
+reply. Perhaps she fancied that the answer might explain the absorbed
+manner in which John had engaged in the service of the accused.
+
+“As far from it as possible, in many cases,” returned the uncle; “though
+there certainly are others in which one engages with all his feelings.
+But every day lessens my interest in the law, and all that belongs to
+it.”
+
+“Why should that be so, sir?—I have heard you called a devotee of the
+profession.”
+
+“That’s because I have no wife. Let a man live a bachelor, and ten to
+one he gets some nickname or other. On the other hand, let him marry two
+or three times, like Ned McBrain—beg your pardon, Nanny, for speaking
+disrespectfully of your papa—but let a fellow just get his third wife,
+and they tack ‘family’ to his appellation at once. He’s an excellent
+_family_ lawyer, or a capital _family_ physician, or a supremely
+pious—no, I don’t know that they’ve got so far as the parsons, for
+_they_ are all _family_ fellows.”
+
+“You have a spite against matrimony, uncle Tom.”
+
+“Well, if I have, it stops with me, as a _family_ complaint. _You_ are
+free from it, my dear; and I’m half inclined to think Jack will marry
+before he is a year older. But, here are the tardies at last.”
+
+Although the uncle made no allusion to the person his nephew was to
+marry, everybody but himself thought of Mary Monson at once. Anna turned
+pale as death; Sarah looked thoughtful, and even sad; and John became as
+red as scarlet. But the entrance of Michael Millington and Timms caused
+the conversation to turn on another subject, as a matter of course.
+
+“We expected you to dinner, gentlemen,” Dunscomb drily remarked, as he
+pushed the bottle to his guests.
+
+“Business before eating is my maxim, ’Squire Dunscomb,” Timms replied.
+“Mr. Millington and I have been very busy in the office, from the moment
+Dr. McBrain and his lady——”
+
+“Wife—say ‘wife,’ Timms, if you please. Or, ‘Mrs. McBrain,’ if you like
+that better.”
+
+“Well, sir, I used the word I did, out of compliment to the other ladies
+present. They love to be honoured and signalized in our language, when
+we speak of them, sir, I believe.”
+
+“Poh! poh! Timms; take my advice, and let all these small matters alone.
+It takes a life to master them, and one must begin from the cradle. When
+all is ended, they are scarce worth the trouble they give. Speak good,
+plain, direct, and manly English, I have always told you, and you’ll get
+along well enough; but make no attempts to be fine. ‘Dr. McBrain and
+_lady_,’ is next thing ‘to going through Hurlgate,’ or meeting a ‘lady
+friend.’ You’ll never get the right sort of a wife, until you drop all
+such absurdities.”
+
+“I’ll tell you how it is, ’Squire: so far as law goes, or even morals,
+and I don’t know but I may say general government politics, I look upon
+you as the best adviser I can consult. But, when it comes to matrimony,
+I can’t see how you should know any more about it than I do myself. I
+_do_ intend to get married one of these days, which is more, I fancy,
+than you ever had in view.”
+
+“No; my great concern has been to escape matrimony; but a man may get a
+very tolerable notion of the sex while manœuvring among them, with that
+intention. I am not certain that he who has had two or three handsomely
+managed escapes, doesn’t learn as much as he who has had two or three
+wives—I mean of useful information. What do you think of all this,
+Millington?”
+
+“That I wish for no escapes, when my choice has been free and
+fortunate.”
+
+“And you, Jack?”
+
+“Sir!” answered the nephew, starting, as if aroused from a brown study.
+“Did you speak to me, uncle Tom?”
+
+“_He_’ll not be of much use to us next week, Timms,” said the
+counsellor, coolly, filling his own and his neighbour’s glass as he
+spoke, with iced Madeira—“These capital cases demand the utmost
+vigilance; more especially when popular prejudice sets in against them.”
+
+“Should the jury find Mary Monson to be guilty, what would be the
+sentence of the court?” demanded Sarah, smiling, even while she seemed
+much interested—“I believe that is right, Mike—the court ‘sentences,’
+and the jury ‘convicts.’ If there be any mistake, you must answer for
+it.”
+
+“I am afraid to speak of laws, or constitutions, in the presence of your
+uncle, since the rebuke Jack and I got in that affair of the toast,”
+returned Sarah’s betrothed, arching his eye-brows.
+
+“By the way, Jack, did that dinner ever come off?” demanded the uncle,
+suddenly; “I looked for your toasts in the journals, but do not remember
+ever to have seen them.”
+
+“You could not have seen any of mine, sir; for I went to Biberry that
+very morning, and only left there last evening”—Anna’s countenance
+resembled a lily, just as it begins to droop—“I believe, however, the
+whole affair fell through, as no one seems to know, just now, who are
+and who are not the friends of liberty. It is the people to-day; the
+pope next day; some prince to-morrow; and, by the end of the week, we
+may have a Massaniello or a Robespierre uppermost. The times seem sadly
+out of joint, just now, and the world is fast getting to be
+upside-down.”
+
+“It’s all owing to this infernal Code, Timms, which is enough to
+revolutionize human nature itself!” cried Dunscomb, with an animation
+that produced a laugh in the young folk, (Anne excepted,) and a simper
+in the person addressed. “Ever since this thing has come into operation
+among us, I never know when a case is to be heard, the decision had, or
+the principles that are to come uppermost. Well, we must try and get
+some good out of it, if we can, in this capital case.”
+
+“Which is drawing very near, ’Squire; and I have some facts to
+communicate in that affair which it may be well to compare with the law,
+without much more delay.”
+
+“Let us finish this bottle—if the boys help us, it will not be much more
+than a glass apiece.”
+
+“I don’t think the ’Squire will ever be up_held_ at the polls by the
+Temperance people,” said Timms, filling his glass to the brim; for, to
+own the truth, it was seldom that he got such wine.
+
+“As _you_ are expecting to be held _up_ by them, my fine fellow. I’ve
+heard of your management, master Timms, and am told you aspire as high
+as the State Senate. Well; there is room for better, but much worse men
+have been sent there. Now, let us go to what I call the ‘Rattletrap
+office.’”
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XI.
+
+ “The strawberry grows underneath the nettle;
+ And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best,
+ Neighbour’d by fruit of baser quality.”
+ _King Henry V._
+
+
+There stood a very pretty pavilion in one of the groves of Rattletrap,
+overhanging the water, with the rock of the river-shore for its
+foundation. It had two small apartments, in one of which Dunscomb had
+caused a book-case, a table, a rocking-chair and a lounge to be placed.
+The other was furnished more like an ordinary summer-house, and was at
+all times accessible to the inmates of the family. The sanctum, or
+office, was kept locked; and here its owner often brought his papers,
+and passed whole days, during the warm months, when it is the usage to
+be out of town, in preparing his cases. To this spot, then, the
+counsellor now held his way, attended by Timms, having ordered a servant
+to bring a light and some segars; smoking being one of the regular
+occupations of the office. In a few minutes, each of the two men of the
+law had a segar in his mouth, and was seated at a little window that
+commanded a fine view of the Hudson, its fleet of sloops, steamers,
+tow-boats and colliers, and its high, rocky western shore, which has
+obtained the not inappropriate name of the Palisades.
+
+The segars, the glass, and the pleasant scenery, teeming as was the last
+with movement and life, appeared, for the moment, to drive from the
+minds of the two men of the law the business on which they had met. It
+was a proof of the effect of habit that a person like Dunscomb, who was
+really a good man, and one who loved his fellow-creatures, could just
+then forget that a human life was, in some measure, dependent on the
+decisions of this very interview, and permit his thoughts to wander from
+so important an interest. So it was, however; and the first topic that
+arose in this consultation had no reference whatever to Mary Monson or
+her approaching trial, though it soon led the colloquists round to her
+situation, as it might be without their intending it.
+
+“This is a charming retreat, ’Squire Dunscomb,” commenced Timms,
+settling himself with some method in a very commodious arm-chair; “and
+one that I should often frequent, did I own it.”
+
+“I hope you will live to be master of one quite as pleasant, Timms, some
+time or other. They tell me your practice, now, is one of the best in
+Duke’s; some two or three thousand a year, I dare say, if the truth were
+known.”
+
+“It’s as good as anybody’s on our circuit, unless you count the bigwigs
+from York. I won’t name the sum, even to as old a friend as yourself,
+’Squire; for the man who lets the world peep into his purse, will soon
+find it footing him up, like a sum in arithmetic. You’ve gentlemen in
+town, however, who sometimes get more for a single case, than I can ’arn
+in a twelvemonth.”
+
+“Still, considering your beginning, and late appearance at the bar,
+Timms, you are doing pretty well. Do you lead in many trials at the
+circuit?”
+
+“That depends pretty much on age, you know, ’Squire. Gen’rally older
+lawyers are put into all my causes; but I have carried one or two
+through, on my own shoulders, and that by main strength too.”
+
+“It must have been by your facts, rather than by your law. The verdicts
+turned altogether on testimony, did they not?”
+
+“Pretty much—and _that_’s the sort of case _I_ like. A man can prepare
+his evidence beforehand, and make some calculations where it will land
+him; but, as for the law, I do not see that studying it as hard as I
+will, makes me much the wiser. A case is no sooner settled one way, by a
+judge in New York, than it is settled in another, in Pennsylvany or
+Virginny.”
+
+“And that, too, when courts were identical, and had a character! Now, we
+have eight Supreme Courts, and they are beginning to settle the law in
+eight different ways. Have you studied the Code pretty closely, Timms?”
+
+“Not I, sir. They tell me things will come round under it in time, and I
+try to be patient. There’s one thing about it that I _do_ like. It has
+taken all the Latin out of the law, which is a great help to us poor
+scholars.”
+
+“It has that advantage, I confess; and before it is done, it will take
+all the law out of the Latin. They tell me it was proposed to call the
+old process of ‘_ne exeat_’ a writ of ‘no go.’”
+
+“Well, to my mind, the last would be the best term of the two.”
+
+“Ay, to _your_ mind, it might, Timms. How do you like the fee-bills, and
+the new mode of obtaining your compensation?”
+
+“Capital! The more they change them matters, the deeper we’ll dig into
+’em, ’Squire! I never knew reform help the great body of the
+community—all it favours is individdles.”
+
+“There is more truth in that, Timms, than you are probably aware of
+yourself. Reform, fully half the time, does no more than shift the
+pack-saddle from one set of shoulders to another. Nor do I believe much
+is gained by endeavouring to make law cheap. It were better for the
+community that it should be dear; though cases do occur in which its
+charges might amount to a denial of justice. It is to be regretted that
+the world oftener decides under the influence of exceptions, rather than
+under that of the rule. Besides, it is no easy matter to check the gains
+of a thousand or two of hungry attorneys.”
+
+“There you’re right, ’Squire, if you never hit the nail on the head
+before! But the new scheme is working well for _us_, and, in one sense,
+it may work well for the people. The compensation is the first thing
+thought of now; and when that is the case, the client stops to think. It
+isn’t every person that holds as large and as open a purse as our lady
+at Biberry!”
+
+“Ay, she continues to fee you, does she, Timms? Pray, how much has she
+given you altogether?”
+
+“Not enough to build a new wing to the Astor Library, nor to set up a
+parson in a gothic temple; still, enough to engage me, heart and hand,
+in her service. First and last, my receipts have been a thousand
+dollars, besides money for the outlays.”
+
+“Which have amounted to——”
+
+“More than as much more. This is a matter of life and death, you know,
+sir; and prices rise accordingly. All I have received has been handed to
+me either in gold or in good current paper. The first troubled me a good
+deal; for I was not certain some more pieces might not be recognized,
+though they were all eagles and half-eagles.”
+
+“Has any such recognition occurred?” demanded Dunscomb, with interest.
+
+“To be frank with you, ’Squire Dunscomb, I sent the money to town at
+once, and set it afloat in the great current in Wall Street, where it
+could do neither good nor harm on the trial. It would have been very
+green in me to pay out the precise coin among the people of Duke’s. No
+one could say what might have been the consequences.”
+
+“It is not very easy for me to foretell the consequences of the
+substitutes which, it seems, you _did_ use. A fee to a counsel I can
+understand; but what the deuce you have done, legally, with a thousand
+dollars out-of-doors, exceeds my penetration I trust you have not been
+attempting to purchase jurors, Timms?”
+
+“Not I, sir. I know the penalties too well, to venture on such a
+defence. Besides, it is too soon to attempt that game. Jurors may be
+bought; sometimes _are_ bought, I have heard say”—here Timms screwed up
+his face into a most significant mimicry of disapprobation—“but _I_ have
+done nothing of the sort in the ‘State _vs_. Mary Monson.’ It is too
+soon to operate, even should the testimony drive us to _that_, in the
+long run.”
+
+“I forbid all illegal measures, Timms. You know my rule of trying causes
+is never to overstep the limits of the law.”
+
+“Yes, sir; I understand your principle, which will answer, provided both
+sides stick to it. But, let a man act as close to what is called honesty
+as he please, what certainty has he that his adversary will observe the
+same rule? This is the great difficulty I find in getting along in the
+world, ’Squire; opposition upsets all a man’s best intentions. Now, in
+politics, sir, there is no man in the country better disposed to uphold
+respectable candidates and just principles than I am myself; but the
+other side squeeze us up so tight, that before the election comes off,
+I’m ready to vote for the devil, rather than get the worst of it.”
+
+“Ay, that’s the wicked man’s excuse all over the world, Timms. In voting
+for the gentleman you have just mentioned, you will remember you are
+sustaining the enemy of your race, whatever may be his particular
+relation to his party. But in this affair at Biberry, you will please to
+remember it is not an election, nor is the devil a candidate. What
+success have you had with the testimony?”
+
+“There’s an abstract of it, sir; and a pretty mess it is! So far as I
+can see, we shall have to rest entirely on the witnesses of the State;
+for I can get nothing out of the accused.”
+
+“Does she still insist on her silence, in respect of the past?”
+
+“As close as if she had been born dumb. I have told her in the strongest
+language that her life depends on her appearing before the jury with a
+plain tale and a good character; but she will help me to neither. I
+never had such a client before—”
+
+“Open-handed, you mean, I suppose, Timms?”
+
+“In that partic’lar, ’Squire Dunscomb, she is just what the profession
+likes—liberal, and pays down. Of course, I am so much the more anxious
+to do all I can in her case; but she will not let me serve her.”
+
+“There must be some strong reason for all this reserve, Timms—Have you
+questioned the Swiss maid, that my niece sent to her. We know _her_, and
+it would seem that she knows Mary Monson. Here is so obvious a way of
+coming at the past, I trust you have spoken to her?”
+
+“She will not let me say a word to the maid. There they live together,
+chatter with one another from morning to night, in French, that nobody
+understands; but will see no one but me, and me only in public, as it
+might be.”
+
+“In public!—You have not asked for _private_ interviews, eh! Timms?
+Remember your views upon the county, and the great danger there is of
+the electors’ finding you out.”
+
+“I well know, ’Squire Dunscomb, that your opinion of me is not very
+flattering in some partic’lars; while in others I think you place me
+pretty well up the ladder. As for old Duke’s, I believe I stand as well
+in that county as any man in it, now the Revolutionary patriots are
+nearly gone. So long as any of _them_ lasted, we modern fellows had no
+chance; and the way in which relics were brought to light was wonderful!
+If Washington only had an army one-tenth as strong as these patriots
+make it out to be, he would have driven the British from the country
+years sooner than it was actually done. Luckily, my grandfather _did_
+serve a short tour of duty in that war; and my own father was a captain
+of militia in 1814, lying out on Harlem Heights and Harlem Common, most
+of the fall; when and where he caught the rheumatism. This was no bad
+capital to start upon; and, though you treat it lightly, ’Squire, I’m a
+favourite in the county—I _am_!”
+
+“Nobody doubts it, Timms; or can doubt it, if he knew the history of
+these matters. Let me see—I believe I first heard of you as a Temperance
+Lecturer?”
+
+“Excuse me; I began with the Common Schools, on which I lectured with
+some success, one whole season. _Then_ came the Temperance cause, out of
+which, I will own, not a little capital was made.”
+
+“And do you stop there, Timms; or do you ride some other hobby into
+power?”
+
+“It’s my way, Mr. Dunscomb, to try all sorts of med’cines. Some folks
+that wunt touch rhubarb will swallow salts; and all palates must be
+satisfied. Free Sile and Emancipation Doctrines are coming greatly into
+favour; but they are ticklish things, that cut like a two-edged sword,
+and I do not fancy meddling with them. There are about as many opposed
+to meddling with slavery in the free States, as there are in favour of
+it. I wish I knew your sentiments, ’Squire Dunscomb, on this subject.
+I’ve always found your doctrines touching the Constitution to be sound,
+and such as would stand examination.”
+
+“The constitutional part of the question is very simple, and presents no
+difficulties whatever,” returned the counsellor, squinting through the
+ruby of his glass, with an old-bachelor sort of delight, “except for
+those who have special ends to obtain.”
+
+“Has, or has not, Congress a legal right to enact laws preventing the
+admission of slaves into California?”
+
+“Congress has the legal right to govern any of its territories
+despotically; of course, to admit or to receive what it may please
+within their limits. The resident of a territory is not a citizen, and
+has no _legal_ claim to be so considered. California, as a conquered
+territory, may be thus governed by the laws of nations, unless the
+treaty of cession places some restrictions on the authority of the
+conqueror. A great deal of absurdity is afloat among those who should
+know better, touching the powers of government in this country. You
+yourself, are one of those fellows, Timms, who get things upside-down,
+and fancy the Constitution is to be looked into for everything.”
+
+“And is it not, ’Squire?—that is, in the way of theory—in practice, I
+know it is a very different matter. Are we not to look into the
+Constitution for all the powers of the government?”
+
+“Of the _government_, perhaps, in one sense—but not for those of the
+_nation_. Whence come the powers to make war and peace, to form treaties
+and alliances, maintain armies and navies, coin money, &c.?”
+
+“You’ll find them all in the Constitution, as I read it, sir.”
+
+“There is just your mistake; and connected with it are most of the
+errors that are floating about in our political world. The _country_
+gets its legal right to do all these things from the laws of nations;
+the Constitution merely saying _who_ shall be its agents in the
+exercise of these powers. Thus _war_ is rendered legal by the custom
+of nations; and the Constitution says Congress shall declare war. It
+also says Congress shall pass all laws that become necessary to carry
+out this power. It follows, Congress may pass any law that has a
+legitimate aim to secure a conquest. Nor is this all the functionaries
+of the government can do, on general principles, in the absence of any
+special provisions by a direct law. The latter merely supersedes or
+directs the power of the former. The Constitution guarantees nothing
+to the territories. They are strictly subject, and may be governed
+absolutely. The only protection of their people is in the sympathy and
+habits of the people of the States. We give them political liberty,
+not as of legal necessity, but as a boon to which they are entitled in
+good-fellowship—or as the father provides for his children.”
+
+“Then you think Congress has power to exclude slavery from California?”
+
+“I can’t imagine a greater legal absurdity than to deny it. I see no use
+in any legislation on the subject, as a matter of practice, since
+California will shortly decide on this interest for itself; but, as a
+right in theory, it strikes me to be madness to deny that the government
+of the United States has full power over all its territories, both on
+general principles and under the Constitution.”
+
+“And in the Deestrict—you hold to the same power in the Deestrict?”
+
+“Beyond a question. Congress can abolish domestic servitude or slavery
+in the District of Columbia, whenever it shall see fit. The _right_ is
+as clear as the sun at noon-day.”
+
+“If these are your opinions, ’Squire, I’ll go for Free Sile and
+Abolition in the Deestrict. They have a popular cry, and take
+wonderfully well in Duke’s, and will build me up considerable. I like to
+be right; but, most of all, I like to be strong.”
+
+“If you adopt such a course, you will espouse trouble without any dower,
+and that will be worse than McBrain’s three wives; and, what is more, in
+the instance of the District, you will be guilty of an act of
+oppression. You will remember that the possession of a legal power to do
+a particular thing, does not infer a moral right to exercise it. As
+respects your Free Soil, it may be well to put down a foot; and, so far
+as votes legally used can be thrown, to prevent the further extension of
+slavery. In this respect you are right enough, and will be sustained by
+an overwhelming majority of the nation; but, when it comes to the
+District, the question has several sides to it.”
+
+“You said yourself, ’Squire, that Congress has all power to legislate
+for the Deestrict?”
+
+“No doubt it has—but the possession of a power does not necessarily
+imply its use. We have power, as a nation, to make war on little
+Portugal, and crush her; but it would be very wicked to do so. When a
+member of Congress votes on any question that strictly applies to the
+District, he should reason precisely as if his constituents all lived in
+the District itself. You will understand, Timms, that liberty is closely
+connected with practice, and is not a mere creature of phrases and
+professions. What more intolerable tyranny could exist than to have a
+man elected by New Yorkers legislating for the District on strictly New
+York policy; or, if you will, on New York prejudices? If the people of
+the District wish to get rid of the institution of domestic slavery,
+there are ways for ascertaining the fact; and once assured of that,
+Congress ought to give the required relief. But in framing such a law,
+great care should be taken not to violate the comity of the Union. The
+comity of nations is, in practice, a portion of their laws, and is
+respected as such; how much more, then, ought we to respect this comity
+in managing the relations between the several States of this Union!”
+
+“Yes, the _sovereign_ States of the Union,” laying emphasis on the word
+we have italicized.
+
+“Pshaw—they are no more sovereign than you and I are sovereign.”
+
+“Not sovereign, sir!” exclaimed Timms, actually jumping to his feet in
+astonishment; “why this is against the National Faith—contrary to all
+the theories.”
+
+“Something so, I must confess; yet very good common sense. If there be
+any sovereignty left in the States, it is the very minimum, and a thing
+of show, rather than of substance. If you will look at the Constitution,
+you will find that the equal representation of the States in the Senate
+is the only right of sovereign character that is left to the members of
+the Union separate and apart from their confederated communities.”
+
+Timms rubbed his brows, and seemed to be in some mental trouble. The
+doctrine of the “Sovereign States” is so very common, so familiar in
+men’s mouths, that no one dreams of disputing it. Nevertheless, Dunscomb
+had a great reputation in his set, as a constitutional lawyer; and the
+“expounders” were very apt to steal his demonstrations, without giving
+him credit for them. As before the nation, a school-boy would have
+carried equal weight; but the direct, vigorous, common-sense arguments
+that he brought to the discussions, as well as the originality of his
+views, ever commanded the profound respect of the intelligent. Timms had
+cut out for himself a path by which he intended to ascend in the scale
+of society; and had industriously, if not very profoundly, considered
+all the agitating questions of the day, in the relations they might be
+supposed to bear to his especial interests. He had almost determined to
+come out an abolitionist; for he saw that the prejudices of the hour
+were daily inclining the electors of the northern States, more and more,
+to oppose the further extension of domestic slavery, so far as surface
+was concerned, which was in effect preparing the way for the final
+destruction of the institution altogether. For Mr. Dunscomb, however,
+this wily limb of the law, and skilful manager of men, had the most
+profound respect; and he was very glad to draw him out still further on
+a subject that was getting to be of such intense interest to himself, as
+well as to the nation at large; for, out of all doubt, it is _the_
+question, not only of the “Hour,” but for years to come.
+
+“Well, sir, this surprises me more and more. The States not
+sovereign!—Why, they _gave_ all the power it possesses to the Federal
+Government!”
+
+“Very true; and it is precisely for _that_ reason they are not
+sovereign—that which is given away is no longer possessed. All the great
+powers of sovereignty are directly bestowed on the Union, which alone
+possesses them.”
+
+“I will grant you that, ’Squire; but enough is retained to hang either
+of us. The deuce is in it if that be not a sovereign power.”
+
+“It does not follow from the instance cited. Send a squadron abroad, and
+its officers can hang; but they are not sovereign, for the simple reason
+that there is a recognised authority over them, which can increase,
+sustain, or take away altogether, any such and all other power. Thus is
+it with the States. By a particular clause, the Constitution can be
+amended, including all the interests involved, with a single exception.
+This is an instance in which the exception does strictly prove the rule.
+All interests but the one excepted can be dealt with, by a species of
+legislation that is higher than common. The Union can constitutionally
+abolish domestic slavery altogether——”
+
+“It can!—It would be the making of any political man’s fortune to be
+able to show _that_!”
+
+“Nothing is easier than to show it, in the way of theory, Timms; though
+nothing would be harder to achieve, in the way of practice. The
+Constitution can be legally amended so as to effect this end, provided
+majorities in three-fourths of the States can be obtained; though every
+living soul in the remaining States were opposed to it. That this is the
+just construction of the great fundamental law, as it has been solemnly
+adopted, no discreet man can doubt; though, on the other hand, no
+discreet person would think of attempting such a measure, as the vote
+necessary to success cannot be obtained. To talk of the sovereignty of a
+community over this particular interest, for instance, when all the
+authority on the subject can be taken from it in direct opposition to
+the wishes of every man, woman and child it contains, is an absurdity.
+The sovereignty, as respects slavery, is in the Union, and not in the
+several States; and therein you can see the fallacy of contending that
+Congress has nothing to do with the interest, when Congress can take the
+initiative in altering this or any other clause of the great national
+compact.”
+
+“But, the Deestrict—the Deestrict, ’Squire Dunscomb—what can and ought
+to be done there?”
+
+“I believe in my soul, Timms, you have an aim on a seat in Congress! Why
+stop short of the Presidency? Men as little likely as yourself to be
+elevated to that high office have been placed in the executive chair;
+and why not you as well as another?”
+
+“It is an office ‘neither to be sought nor declined,’ said an eminent
+statesman,” answered Timms, with a seriousness that amused his
+companion; who saw, by his manner, that his old pupil held himself in
+reserve for the accidents of political life. “But, sir, I am very
+anxious to get right on the subject of the Deestrict”—Timms pronounced
+this word as we have spelt it—“and I know that if any man can set me
+right, it is yourself.”
+
+“As respects the District, Mr. Timms, here is my faith. It is a
+territory provided for in the Constitution for a national purpose, and
+must be regarded as strictly national property, held exclusively for
+objects that call all classes of citizens within its borders. Now, two
+great principles, in my view, should control all legislation for this
+little community. As I have said already, it would be tyranny to make
+the notions and policy of New York or Vermont bear on the legislation of
+the District; but, every member is bound to act strictly as a
+representative of the people of the spot for whom the law is intended.
+If I were in Congress, I would at any time, on a respectable
+application, vote to refer the question of abolition to the people of
+the District; if they said ay, I would say ay; if no, no. Beyond this I
+would never go; nor do I think the man who wishes to push matters beyond
+this, sufficiently respects the general principles of representative
+government, or knows how to respect the spirit of the national compact.
+On the supposition that the District ask relief from the institution of
+slavery, great care should be observed in granting the necessary
+legislation. Although the man in South Carolina has no more right to
+insist that the District should maintain the ‘peculiar institution,’
+because his particular State maintains it, than the Vermontese to insist
+on carrying his Green Mountain notions into the District laws; yet has
+the Carolinian rights in this territory that must ever he respected, let
+the general policy adopted be what it may. Every American has an implied
+right to visit the District on terms of equality. Now, there would be no
+equality if a law were passed excluding the domestics from any portion
+of the country. In the slave States, slaves exclusively perform the
+functions of domestics; and sweeping abolition might very easily
+introduce regulations that would be unjust towards the slave-holders. As
+respects the northern man, the existence of slavery in or out of the
+District is purely a speculative question; but it is not so with the
+southern. This should never be forgotten; and I always feel disgust when
+I hear a northern man swagger and make a parade of his morality on this
+subject.”
+
+“But the southern men swagger and make a parade of their chivalry,
+’Squire, on the other hand!”
+
+“Quite true; but, with them, there is a strong provocation. It is a
+matter of life and death to the south; and the comity of which I spoke
+requires great moderation on our part. As for the threats of
+dissolution, of which we have had so many, like the cry of ‘wolf,’ they
+have worn themselves out, and are treated with indifference.”
+
+“The threat is still used, Mr. Dunscomb!”
+
+“Beyond a doubt, Timms; but of one thing you may rest well assured—if
+ever there be a separation between the free and the slave States of this
+Union, the wedge will be driven home by northern hands; not by
+indirection, but coolly, steadily, and with a thorough northern
+determination to open the seam. There will be no fuss about chivalry,
+but the thing will be done. I regard the measure as very unlikely to
+happen, the Mississippi and its tributaries binding the States together,
+to say nothing of ancestry, history, and moral ties, in a way to render
+a rupture very difficult to effect; but, should it come at all, rely on
+it, it will come directly from the north. I am sorry to say there is an
+impatience of the threats and expedients that have so much disfigured
+southern policy, that have set many at the north to ‘calculating the
+value;’ and thousands may now be found where ten years since it would
+not have been easy to meet with one, who deem separation better than
+union with slavery. Still, the general feeling of the north is passive;
+and I trust it will so continue.”
+
+“Look at the laws for the recovery of fugitives, ’Squire, and the manner
+in which they are administered.”
+
+“Bad enough, I grant you, and full of a want of good faith. Go to the
+bottom of this subject, Timms, or let it alone altogether. Some men will
+tell you that slavery is a sin, and contrary to revealed religion. This
+I hold to be quite untrue. At all events, if it be a sin, it is a sin to
+give the son the rich inheritance of the father, instead of dividing it
+among the poor; to eat a dinner while a hungrier man than yourself is
+within sound of your voice; or, indeed, to do anything that is necessary
+and agreeable, when the act may be still more necessary to, or confer
+greater pleasure on, another. I believe in a Providence; and I make
+little doubt that African slavery is an important feature in God’s Laws,
+instead of being disobedience to them.—But enough of this, Timms—you
+will court popularity, which is your Archimedean lever, and forget all I
+tell you. Is Mary Monson in greater favour now than when I last saw
+you?”
+
+“The question is not easily answered, sir. She pays well, and money is a
+powerful screw!”
+
+“I do not inquire what you do with her money,” said Dunscomb, with the
+evasion of a man who knew that it would not do to probe every weak spot
+in morals, any more than it would do to inflame the diseases of the
+body; “but, I own, I should like to know if our client has any
+suspicions of its uses?”
+
+Timms now cast a furtive glance behind him, and edged his chair nearer
+to his companion, in a confidential way, as if he would trust _him_ with
+a private opinion that he should keep religiously from all others.
+
+“Not only does she know all about it,” he answered, with a knowing
+inclination of the head, “but she enters into the affair, heart and
+hand. To my great surprise, she has even made two or three suggestions
+that were capital in their way! Capital! yes, sir; quite capital! If you
+were not so stiff in your practice, ’Squire, I should delight to tell
+you all about it. She’s sharp, you may depend on it! She’s wonderfully
+sharp!”
+
+“What!—That refined, lady-like, accomplished young woman!”
+
+“She has an accomplishment or two you’ve never dreamed of, ’Squire. I’d
+pit her ag’in the sharpest practitioner in Duke’s, and she’d come out
+ahead. I thought I knew something of preparing a cause; but she has
+given hints that will be worth more to me than all her fees!”
+
+“You do not mean that she shows _experience_ in such practices?”
+
+“Perhaps not. It seems more like mother-wit, I acknowledge; but it’s
+mother-wit of the brightest sort. She understands them reporters by
+instinct, as it might be. What is more, she backs all her suggestions
+with gold, or current bank-notes.”
+
+“And where can she get so much money?”
+
+“That is more than I can tell you,” returned Timms, opening some papers
+belonging to the case, and laying them a little formally before the
+senior counsel, to invite his particular attention. “I’ve never thought
+it advisable to ask the question.”
+
+“Timms, you do not, _cannot_ think Mary Monson guilty?”
+
+“I never go beyond the necessary facts of a case; and my opinion is of
+no consequence whatever. We are employed to defend her; and the counsel
+for the State are not about to get a verdict without some working for
+it. That’s my conscience in these matters, ’Squire Dunscomb.”
+
+Dunscomb asked no more questions. He turned gloomily to the papers,
+shoved his glass aside, as if it gave him pleasure no longer, and began
+to read. For near four hours he and Timms were earnestly engaged in
+preparing a brief, and in otherwise getting the cause ready for trial.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XII.
+
+ _Hel._ O, that my prayers could such affection move!
+ _Her._ The more I hate, the more he follows me.
+ _Hel._ The more I love, the more he hateth me.
+ _Her._ His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.
+ _Midsummer Night’s Dream_.
+
+
+While Dunscomb and Timms were thus employed, the younger members of the
+party very naturally sought modes of entertainment that were more in
+conformity with their tastes and years. John Wilmeter had been invited
+to be present at the consultation; but his old feelings were revived,
+and he found a pleasure in being with Anna that induced him to disregard
+the request. His sister and his friend were now betrothed, and they had
+glided off along one of the pretty paths of the Rattletrap woods, in a
+way that is so very common to persons in their situation. This left Jack
+alone with Anna. The latter was timid, shy even; while the former was
+thoughtful. Still, it was not easy to separate; and they, too, almost
+unconsciously to themselves, were soon walking in that pleasant wood,
+following one of its broadest and most frequented paths, however.
+
+John, naturally enough, imputed the thoughtfulness of his companion to
+the event of the morning; and he spoke kindly to her, and with a gentle
+delicacy on the subject, that more than once compelled the warm-hearted
+girl to struggle against her tears. After he had said enough on this
+topic, the young man followed the current of his own thoughts, and spoke
+of her he had left in the gaol of Biberry.
+
+“Her case is most extraordinary,” continued John, “and it has excited
+our liveliest sympathy. By ours, I mean the disinterested and
+intelligent; for the vulgar prejudice is strong against her. Sarah, or
+even yourself, Anna”—his companion looked more like herself, at this
+implied compliment, than she had done before that day—“could not seem
+less likely to be guilty of anything wrong, than this Miss Monson; yet
+she stands indicted, and is to be tried for murder and arson! To me, it
+seems monstrous to suspect such a person of crimes so heinous.”
+
+Anna remained silent half a minute; for she had sufficient good sense to
+know that appearances, unless connected with facts, ought to have no
+great weight in forming an opinion of guilt or innocence. As Jack
+evidently expected an answer, however, his companion made an effort to
+speak.
+
+“Does she say nothing of her friends, nor express a wish to have them
+informed of her situation?” Anna succeeded in asking.
+
+“Not a syllable. I could not speak to her on the subject, you know——”
+
+“Why not?” demanded Anna, quickly.
+
+“Why not?—You’ve no notion, Anna, of the kind of person this Miss Monson
+is. You cannot talk to _her_ as you would to an every-day sort of young
+lady; and, now she is in such distress, one is naturally more cautious
+about saying anything to add to her sorrow.”
+
+“Yes, I can understand _that_,” returned the generous-minded girl; “and
+I think you are very right to remember all this, on every occasion.
+Still, it is so natural for a female to lean on her friends, in every
+great emergency, I cannot but wonder that your client——”
+
+“Don’t call her my _client_, Anna, I beg of you. I hate the word as
+applied to this lady. If I serve her in any degree, it is solely as a
+friend. The same feeling prevails with Uncle Tom; for I understand he
+has not received a cent of Miss Monson’s money, though she is liberal of
+it to profuseness. Timms is actually getting rich on it.”
+
+“Is it usual for you gentlemen of the bar to give their services
+gratuitously to those who can pay for them?”
+
+“As far from it as possible,” returned Jack, laughing. “We look to the
+main chance like so many merchants or brokers, and seldom open our
+mouths without shutting our hearts. But this is a case altogether out of
+the common rule; and Mr. Dunscomb works for love, and not for money.”
+
+Had Anna cared less for John Wilmeter, she might have said something
+clever about the nephew’s being in the same category as the uncle; but
+her feelings were too deeply interested to suffer her even to think what
+would seem to her profane. After a moment’s pause, therefore, she
+quietly said—
+
+“I believe you have intimated that Mr. Timms is not quite so
+disinterested?”
+
+“Not he—Miss Monson has given him fees amounting to a thousand dollars,
+by his own admission; and the fellow has had the conscience to take the
+money. I have remonstrated about his fleecing a friendless woman in this
+extravagant manner; but he laughs in my face for my pains. Timms has
+good points, but honesty is not one of them. He says no woman can be
+friendless who has a pretty face, and a pocket full of money.”
+
+“You can hardly call a person unfriended who has so much money at
+command, John,” Anna answered with timidity; but not without manifest
+interest in the subject. “A thousand dollars sounds like a large sum to
+me!”
+
+“It is a good deal of money for a fee; though much more is sometimes
+given. I dare say Miss Monson would have gladly given the same to uncle
+Tom, if he would have taken it. Timms told me that she proposed offering
+as much to him; but be persuaded her to wait until the trial was over.”
+
+“And where does all this money come from, John?”
+
+“I’m sure I do not know—I am not at all in Miss Monson’s confidence; on
+her pecuniary affairs, at least. She _does_ honour me so much as to
+consult me about her trial occasionally, it is true; but to me she has
+never alluded to money, except to ask me to obtain change for large
+notes. I do not see anything so very wonderful in a lady’s having money.
+You, who are a sort of heiress yourself, ought to know that.”
+
+“I do not get money in thousands, I can assure you, Jack; nor do I think
+that I have it to get. I believe my whole income would not much more
+than meet the expenditure of this strange woman——”
+
+“Do not call her _woman_, Anna; it pains me to hear you speak of her in
+such terms.”
+
+“I beg her pardon and yours, Jack; but I meant no disrespect. We are all
+women.”
+
+“I know it is foolish to feel nervous on such a subject; but I cannot
+help it. One connects so many ideas of vulgarity and crime, with
+prisons, and indictments, and trials, that we are apt to suppose all who
+are accused to belong to the commoner classes. Such is not the fact with
+Miss Monson, I can assure you. Not even Sarah—nay, not even _yourself_,
+my dear Anna, can pretend to more decided marks of refinement and
+education. I do not know a more distinguished young woman——”
+
+“There, Jack; now _you_ call her a woman yourself,” interrupted Anna, a
+little archly; secretly delighted at the compliment she had just heard.
+
+“_Young_ woman—anybody can say _that_, you know, without implying
+anything common or vulgar; and _woman_ too, sometimes. I do not know how
+it was; but I did not exactly like the word as you happened to use it. I
+believe close and long watching is making me nervous; and I am not quite
+as much myself as usual.”
+
+Anna gave a very soft sigh, and that seemed to afford her relief, though
+it was scarcely audible; then she continued the subject.
+
+“How old is this extraordinary young lady?” she demanded, scarce
+speaking loud enough to be heard.
+
+“Old! How can I tell? She is very youthful in appearance; but, from the
+circumstance of her having so much money at command, I take it for
+granted she is of age. The law now gives to every woman the full command
+of all her property, even though married, after she become of age.”
+
+“Which I trust you find a very proper attention to the rights of our
+sex!”
+
+“I care very little about it; though Uncle Tom says it is of a piece
+with all our late New York legislation.”
+
+“Mr. Dunscomb, like most elderly persons, has little taste for change.”
+
+“It is not that. He thinks that minds of an ordinary stamp are running
+away with the conceit that they are on the road of progress; and that
+most of our recent improvements, as they are called, are marked by
+empiricism. This ‘tea-cup law,’ as he terms it, will set the women above
+their husbands, and create two sets of interests where there ought to be
+but one.”
+
+“Yes; I am aware such is his opinion. He remarked, the day he brought
+home my mother’s settlement for the signatures, that it was the most
+ticklish part of his profession to prepare such papers. I remember one
+of his observations, which struck me as being very just.”
+
+“Which you mean to repeat to me, Anna?”
+
+“Certainly, John, if you wish to hear it,” returned a gentle voice,
+coming from one unaccustomed to refuse any of the reasonable requests of
+this particular applicant. “The remark of Mr. Dunscomb was this:—He said
+that most family misunderstandings grew out of money; and he thought it
+unwise to set it up as a bone of contention between man and wife. Where
+there was so close a union in all other matters, he thought there might
+safely be a community of interests in this respect. He saw no sufficient
+reason for altering the old law, which had the great merit of having
+been tried.”
+
+“He could hardly persuade rich fathers, and vigilant guardians, who have
+the interests of heiresses to look after, to subscribe to all his
+notions. They say that it is better to make a provision against
+imprudence and misfortune, by settling a woman’s fortune on herself, in
+a country where speculation tempts so many to their ruin.”
+
+“I do not object to anything that may have an eye to an evil day,
+provided it be done openly and honestly. But the income should be common
+property, and like all that belongs to a family, should pass under the
+control of its head.”
+
+“It is very liberal in you to say and think this, Anna!”
+
+“It is what every woman, who has a true woman’s heart, could wish, and
+would do. For myself, I would marry no man whom I did not respect and
+look up to in most things; and surely, if I gave him my heart and my
+hand, I could wish to give him as much control over my means as
+circumstances would at all allow. It might be prudent to provide against
+misfortune by means of settlements; but this much done, I feel certain
+it would afford me the greatest delight to commit all that I could to a
+husband’s keeping.”
+
+“Suppose that husband were a spendthrift, and wasted your estate?”
+
+“He could waste but the income, were there a settlement; and I would
+rather share the consequences of his imprudence with him, than sit aloof
+in selfish enjoyment of that in which he did not partake.”
+
+All this sounded very well in John’s ears; and he knew Anna Updyke too
+well to suppose she did not fully mean all that she said. He wondered
+what might be Mary Monson’s views on this subject.
+
+“It is possible for the husband to partake of the wife’s wealth, even
+when he does not command it,” the young man resumed, anxious to hear
+what more Anna might have to say.
+
+“What! as a dependant on her bounty? No woman who respects herself could
+wish to see her husband so degraded; nay, no female, who has a true
+woman’s heart, would ever consent to place the man to whom she has given
+her hand, in so false a position. It is for the woman to be dependent on
+the man, and not the man on the woman. I agree fully with Mr. Dunscomb,
+when he says that ‘silken knots are too delicate to be rudely undone by
+dollars.’ The family in which the head has to ask the wife for the money
+that is to support it, must soon go wrong; as it is placing the weaker
+vessel uppermost.”
+
+“You would make a capital wife, Anna, if these are really your
+opinions!”
+
+Anna blushed, and almost repented of her generous warmth, but, being
+perfectly sincere, she would not deny her sentiments.
+
+“They ought to be the opinion of every wife,” she answered. “I could not
+endure to see the man to whom I could wish on all occasions to look up,
+soliciting the means on which we both subsisted. It would be my delight,
+if I had money and he had none, to pour all into his lap, and then come
+and ask of him as much as was necessary to my comfort.”
+
+“If he had the soul of a man he would not wait to be asked, but would
+endeavour to anticipate your smallest wants. I believe you are right,
+and that happiness is best secured by confidence.”
+
+“And in not reversing the laws of nature. Why do women vow to obey and
+honour their husbands, if they are to retain them as dependants? I
+declare, John Wilmeter, I should almost despise the man who could
+consent to live with me on any terms but those in which nature, the
+church, and reason, unite in telling us he ought to be the superior.”
+
+“Well, Anna, this is good, old-fashioned, womanly sentiment; and I will
+confess it delights me to hear it from _you_. I am the better pleased,
+because, as Uncle Tom is always complaining, the weakness of the hour is
+to place your sex above ours, and to reverse all the ancient rules in
+this respect. Let a woman, now-a-days, run away from her husband, and
+carry off the children; it is ten to one but some crotchety judge, who
+thinks more of a character built up on gossip than of deferring properly
+to that which the laws of God and the wisdom of man have decreed, refuse
+to issue a writ of _habeas corpus_ to restore the issue to the parent.”
+
+“I do not know, John,”—Anna hesitatingly rejoined, with a true woman’s
+instinct—“it _would_ be so hard to rob a mother of her children!”
+
+“It might be _hard_, but in such a case it would be _just_. I like that
+word ‘rob,’ for it suits both parties. To me, it seems that the father
+is the party robbed, when the wife not only steals away from her duty to
+her husband, but deprives him of his children too.”
+
+“It is wrong, and I have heard Mr. Dunscomb express great indignation at
+what he called the ‘soft-soapiness’ of certain judges in cases of this
+nature. Still, John, the world is apt to think a woman would not abandon
+the most sacred of her duties without a cause. That feeling must be at
+the bottom of what you call the decision, I believe, of these judges.”
+
+“If there be such a cause as would justify a woman in deserting her
+husband, and in stealing his children—for it is robbery after all, and
+robbery of the worst sort, since it involves breaches of faith of the
+most heinous nature—let that cause be shown, that justice may pronounce
+between the parties. Besides, it is not true that women will not
+sometimes forget their duties without sufficient cause. There are
+capricious, and uncertain, and egotistical women, who follow their own
+wayward inclinations, as well as selfish men. Some women love power
+intensely, and are never satisfied with simply filling the place that
+was intended for them by nature. It is hard for such to submit to their
+husbands, or, indeed, to submit to any one.”
+
+“It must be a strange female,” answered Anna, gently, “who cannot suffer
+the control of the man of her choice, after quitting father and mother
+for his sake.”
+
+“Different women have different sources of pride, that make their
+husbands very uncomfortable, even when they remain with them, and affect
+to discharge their duties. One will pride herself on family, and take
+every occasion to let her beloved partner know how much better she is
+connected than he may happen to be; another is conceited, and fancies
+herself cleverer than her lord and master, and would fain have him take
+_her_ advice on all occasions; while a third may have the most money,
+and delight in letting it be known that it is _her_ pocket that sustains
+the household.”
+
+“I did not know, John, that you thought so much of these things,” said
+Anna, laughing; “though I think you are very right in your opinions.
+Pray, which of the three evils that you have mentioned would you
+conceive the greatest?”
+
+“The second. I might stand family pride; though it is disgusting when it
+is not ridiculous. Then the money might be got along with for its own
+sake, provided the purse were in my hand; but I really do not think I
+could live with a woman who fancied she knew the most.”
+
+“But, in many things, women ought to, and _do_ know the most.”
+
+“Oh! as to accomplishments, and small talk, and making preserves, and
+dancing, and even poetry and religion—yes, I will throw in religion—I
+could wish my wife to be clever—very clever—as clever as you are
+yourself, Anna”—The fair listener coloured, though her eyes brightened
+at this unintended but very direct compliment—“Yes, yes; all that would
+do well enough. But when it came to the affairs of men, out-of-door
+concerns, or politics, or law, or anything, indeed, that called for a
+masculine education and understanding, I could not endure a woman who
+fancied she knew the most.”
+
+“I should think few wives would dream of troubling their husbands with
+their opinions touching the law!”
+
+“I don’t know that. You’ve no notion, Anna, to what a pass conceit can
+carry a person;—you, who are so diffident and shy, and always so ready
+to yield to those who ought to know best. I’ve met with women who, not
+content with arraying their own charms in their own way, must fancy they
+can teach us how to put on our clothes, tell us how to turn over a
+wristband, or settle a shirt-collar!”
+
+“This is not conceit, John, but good taste,” cried Anna, now laughing
+outright, and appearing herself again. “It is merely female tact
+teaching male awkwardness how to adorn itself. But, surely, no woman,
+John, would bother herself about law, let her love of domination be as
+strong as it might.”
+
+“I’m not so sure of that. The only really complaisant thing I ever saw
+about this Mary Monson”—a cloud again passed athwart the bright
+countenance of Anna—“was a sort of strange predilection for law. Even
+Timms has remarked it, and commented on it too.”
+
+“The poor woman——”
+
+“Do not use that word in speaking of her, if you please, Anna.”
+
+“Well, lady—if you like that better——”
+
+“No—say young lady—or Miss Monson—or Mary, which has the most agreeable
+sound of all.”
+
+“Yet, I think I have been told that none of you believe she has been
+indicted by her real name.”
+
+“Very true; but it makes no difference. Call her by that she has
+assumed; but do not call her by an alias as wretched as that of ‘poor
+woman.’”
+
+“I meant no slight, I do assure you, John; for I feel almost as much
+interest in Miss Monson as you do yourself. It is not surprising,
+however, that one in her situation should feel an interest in the law.”
+
+“It is not this sort of interest that I mean. It has seemed to me, once
+or twice, that she dealt with the difficulties of her own case as if she
+took a pleasure in meeting them—had a species of professional pleasure
+in conquering them. Timms will not let me into his secrets, and I am
+glad of it, for I fancy all of them would not bear the light; but he
+tells me, honestly, that some of Miss Monson’s suggestions have been
+quite admirable!”
+
+“Perhaps she has been”—Anna checked herself with the consciousness that
+what she was about to utter might appear to be, and what was of still
+greater importance in her own eyes, might really be, ungenerous.
+
+“Perhaps what? Finish the sentence, I beg of you.”
+
+Anna shook her head.
+
+“You intended to say that perhaps Miss Monson had some _experience_ in
+the law, and that it gave her a certain satisfaction to contend with its
+difficulties, in consequence of previous training. Am I not right?”
+
+Anna would not answer in terms; but she gave a little nod in assent,
+colouring scarlet.
+
+“I knew it; and I will be frank enough to own that Timms thinks the same
+thing. He has hinted as much as that; but the thing is impossible. You
+have only to look at her, to see that such a thing is impossible.”
+
+Anna Updyke thought that almost anything of the sort might be possible
+to a female who was in the circumstances of the accused; this, however,
+she would not say, lest it might wound John’s feelings, for which she
+had all the tenderness of warm affection, and a woman’s self-denial. Had
+the case been reversed, it is by no means probable that her impulsive
+companion would have manifested the same forbearance on her account.
+John would have contended for victory, and pressed his adversary with
+all the arguments, facts and reasons he could muster, on such an
+occasion. Not so with the gentler and more thoughtful young woman who
+was now walking quietly, and a little sadly, at his side, instinct with
+all the gentleness, self-denial, and warm-hearted affection of her sex.
+
+“No, it is worse than an absurdity”—resumed John—“it is cruel, to
+imagine anything of the sort of Miss ——By the way, Anna, do you know
+that a very singular thing occurred last evening, before I drove over to
+town, to be present at the wedding. You know Marie Mill?”
+
+“Certainly—Marie Moulin, you should say.”
+
+“Well, in answering one of her mistress’s questions, she said ‘oui,
+_Madame_.’”
+
+“What would you have had her say?—‘_non_, Madame?’”
+
+“But why Madame at all?—Why not Mademoiselle?”
+
+“It would be very vulgar to say ‘Yes, Miss,’ in English.”
+
+“To be sure it would; but it is very different in French. One _can_
+say—_must_ say Mademoiselle to a young unmarried female in that
+language; though it be vulgar to say Miss, without the name, in English.
+French, you know, Anna, is a much more precise language than our own;
+and those who speak it, do not take the liberties with it that we take
+with the English. _Madame_ always infers a married woman; unless,
+indeed, it be with a woman a hundred years old.”
+
+“No French woman is ever _that_, John—but it _is_ odd that Marie Moulin,
+who so well understands the usages of her own little world, should have
+said _Madame_ to a _démoiselle_. Have I not heard, nevertheless, that
+Marie’s first salutation, when she was admitted to the gaol, was a
+simple exclamation of ‘Mademoiselle?’”
+
+“That is very true; for I heard it myself. What is more, that
+exclamation was almost as remarkable as this; French servants always
+adding the name under such circumstances, unless they are addressing
+their own particular mistresses. Madame, and Mademoiselle, are
+appropriated to those they serve; while it is Mademoiselle this, or
+Madame that, to every one else.”
+
+“And now she calls her _Mademoiselle_ or _Madame_! It only proves that
+too much importance is not to be attached to Marie Moulin’s sayings and
+doings.”
+
+“I’m not so sure of that. Marie has been three years in this country, as
+we all know. Now the young person that she left a _Mademoiselle_ might
+very well have become a _Madame_ in that interval of time. When they
+met, the domestic may have used the old and familiar term in her
+surprise; or she may not have known of the lady’s marriage. Afterwards,
+when there had been leisure for explanations between them, she gave her
+mistress her proper appellation.”
+
+“Does she habitually say Madame now, in speaking to this singular
+being?”
+
+“Habitually she is silent. Usually she remains in the cell, when any one
+is with Miss—or Mrs. Monson, perhaps I ought to say”—John used this last
+term with a strong expression of spite, which gave his companion a
+suppressed but infinite delight—“but when any one is with the mistress,
+call her what you will, the maid commonly remains in the dungeon or
+cell. Owing to this, I have never been in the way of hearing the last
+address the first, except on the two occasions named. I confess I begin
+to think——”
+
+“What, John?”
+
+“Why, that our _Miss_ Monson may turn out to be a married woman, after
+all.”
+
+“She is very young, is she not? Almost too young to be a wife?”
+
+“Not at all! What do you call too young? She is between twenty and
+twenty-two or three. She may even be twenty-five or six.”
+
+Anna sighed, though almost imperceptibly to herself; for these were ages
+that well suited her companion, though the youngest exceeded her own by
+a twelvemonth. Little more, however, was said on the subject at that
+interview.
+
+It is one of the singular effects of the passion of love, more
+especially with the generous-minded and just of the female sex, that a
+lively interest is often awakened in behalf of a successful or favoured
+rival. Such was now the fact as regards the feeling that Anna Updyke
+began to entertain towards Mary Monson. The critical condition of the
+lady would of itself excite interest where it failed to produce
+distrust; but, the circumstance that John Wilmeter saw so much to admire
+in this unknown female, if he did not actually love her, gave her an
+importance in the eyes of Anna that at once elevated her into an object
+of the highest interest. She was seized with the liveliest desire to see
+the accused, and began seriously to reflect on the possibility of
+effecting such an end. No vulgar curiosity was mingled with this
+new-born purpose; but, in addition to the motives that were connected
+with John’s state of mind, there was a benevolent and truly feminine
+wish, on the part of Anna, to be of service to one of her own sex, so
+cruelly placed, and cut off, as it would seem, from all communication
+with those who should be her natural protectors and advisers.
+
+Anna Updyke gathered, through that which had fallen from Wilmeter and
+his sister, that the intercourse between the former and his interesting
+client had been of the most reserved character; therein showing a
+discretion and self-respect on the part of the prisoner, that spoke well
+for her education and delicacy. How such a woman came to be in the
+extraordinary position in which she was placed, was of course as much a
+mystery to her as to all others; though, like every one else who knew
+aught of the case, she indulged in conjectures of her own on the
+subject. Being of a particularly natural and frank disposition, without
+a particle of any ungenerous or detracting quality, and filled with
+woman’s kindness in her very soul, this noble-minded young woman began
+now to feel far more than an idle curiosity in behalf of her who had so
+lately caused herself so much pain, not to say bitterness of anguish.
+All was forgotten in pity for the miserable condition of the unconscious
+offender; unconscious, for Anna was sufficiently clear-sighted and just
+to see and to admit that, if John had been led astray by the charms and
+sufferings of this stranger, the fact could not rightfully be imputed to
+the last, as a fault. Every statement of John’s went to confirm this act
+of justice to the stranger.
+
+Then, the unaccountable silence of Marie Moulin doubled the mystery and
+greatly increased the interest of the whole affair. This woman had gone
+to Biberry pledged to communicate to Sarah all she knew or might learn,
+touching the accused; and well did Anna know that her friend would make
+her the repository of her own information, on this as well as on other
+subjects; but a most unaccountable silence governed the course of the
+domestic, as well as that of her strange mistress. It really seemed
+that, in passing the principal door of the gaol, Marie Moulin had buried
+herself in a convent, where all communication with the outer world was
+forbidden. Three several letters from Sarah had John handed in at the
+grate, certain that they must have reached the hands of the Swiss; but
+no answer had been received. All attempts to speak to Marie were
+quietly, but most ingeniously evaded, by the tact and readiness of the
+prisoner; and the hope of obtaining information from that source was
+abandoned by Sarah, who was too proud to solicit a servant for that
+which the last was reluctant to communicate. With Anna the feeling was
+different. She had no curiosity on the subject, separated from a most
+generous and womanly concern in the prisoner’s forlorn state; and she
+thought far less of Marie Moulin’s disrespect and forgetfulness of her
+word, than of Mary Monson’s desolation and approaching trial.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIII.
+
+ Was it for this we sent out
+ Liberty’s cry from our shore?
+ Was it for this that her shout
+ Thrill’d to the world’s very core?
+ _Moore’s National Airs._
+
+
+The third day after the interviews just related, the whole party left
+Rattletrap for Timbully, where their arrival was expected by the bride
+and bridegroom, if such terms can be applied to a woman of forty-five
+and a man of sixty. The Duke’s county circuit and oyer and terminer were
+about to be held, and it was believed that Mary Monson was to be tried.
+By this time so lively an interest prevailed among the ladies of the
+McBrain and Dunscomb connections in behalf of the accused, that they had
+all come to a determination to be present in court. Curiosity was not so
+much at the bottom of this movement as womanly kindness and sympathy.
+There seemed a bitterness of misery in the condition of Mary Monson,
+that appealed directly to the heart; and that silent but eloquent appeal
+was answered, as has just been stated, generously and with warmth by the
+whole party from town. With Anna Updyke the feeling went materially
+farther than with any of her friends. Strange as it may seem, her
+interest in John increased that which she felt for his mysterious
+client; and her feelings became enlisted in the stranger’s behalf, so
+much the more, in consequence of this triangular sort of passion.
+
+The morning of the day on which the party crossed the country from
+Rattletrap to Timbully, Timms arrived at the latter place. He was
+expected, and was soon after closeted with the senior counsel in the
+pending and most important cause.
+
+“Does the District Attorney intend to move for the trial?” demanded
+Dunscomb, the instant the two were alone.
+
+“He tells me he does, sir; and that early in the week, too. It is my
+opinion we should go for postponement. We are hardly ready, while the
+State is too much so.”
+
+“I do not comprehend this, Timms. The law-officers of the public would
+hardly undertake to run down a victim, and she a solitary and
+unprotected woman!”
+
+“That’s not it. The law-officers of the State don’t care a straw whether
+Mary Monson is found guilty or is acquitted. That is, they care nothing
+about it _at present_. The case may be different when they are warmed up
+by a trial and opposition. Our danger comes from Jesse Davis, who is a
+nephew of Peter Goodwin, his next of kin and heir, and who thinks a
+great deal of money was hoarded by the old people; much more than the
+stocking ever held or could hold, and who has taken it into his wise
+head that the prisoner has laid hands on this treasure, and is carrying
+on her defence with his cash. This has roused him completely, and he has
+retained two of the sharpest counsel on our circuit, who are beginning
+to work as if the bargain has been clenched in the hard metal. Williams
+has given me a great deal of trouble already. I know him; he will not
+work without pay; but pay him liberally, and he is up to anything.”
+
+“Ay, you are diamond cut diamond, Timms—outsiders in the profession. You
+understand that I work only in the open court, and will know nothing of
+this out-door management.”
+
+“We do not mean to let you know anything about it, ’Squire,” returned
+Timms, drily. “Each man to his own manner of getting along. I ought to
+tell you, however, it has got out that you are working without a fee,
+while I am paid in the most liberal manner.”
+
+“I am sorry for that. There is no great harm in the thing itself; but I
+dislike the parade of seeming to be unusually generous. I do not
+remember to have spoken of this circumstance where it would be likely to
+be repeated; and I beg you will be equally discreet.”
+
+“The fact has not come from me, I can assure you, sir. It puts me in too
+awkward a position to delight me; and I make it a point to say as little
+as possible of what is disagreeable. I do not relish the idea of being
+thought selfish by my future constituents. Giniros’ty is my cue before
+_them_. But they say you work for love, sir.”
+
+“Love!” answered Dunscomb, quickly—“Love of what?—or of _whom_?”
+
+“Of your client—that’s the story now. It is said that you admire Miss
+Monson; that she is young, and handsome, and rich; and she is to marry
+you, if acquitted. If found guilty and hanged, the bargain is off, of
+course. You may look displeased, ’Squire; but I give you my word such is
+the rumour.”
+
+Dunscomb was extremely vexed; but he was too proud to make any answer.
+He knew that he had done that which, among the mass of this nation, is a
+very capital mistake, in not placing before its observation an
+intelligible _motive_—one on the level of the popular mind—to prevent
+these freaks of the fancy dealing with his affairs. It is true, that the
+natural supposition would be that he worked for his fee, as did Timms,
+had not the contrary got out; when he became subject to all the crude
+conjectures of those who ever look for the worst motives for everything.
+Had he been what is termed a favourite public servant, the very reverse
+would have been the case, and there was little that he might not have
+done with impunity; but, having no such claims on the minds of the mass,
+he came under the common law which somewhat distinguishes their control.
+Too much disgusted, however, to continue this branch of the subject, the
+worthy counsellor at once adverted to another.
+
+“Have you looked over the list of the jurors, Timms?” he demanded,
+continuing to sort his papers.
+
+“That I never fail to do, sir, the first thing. It’s my brief, you know,
+’Squire Dunscomb. All _safe_ York law, now-a-days, is to be found in
+that learned body; especially in criminal cases. There is but one sort
+of suit in which the jury counts for nothing, and might as well be
+dispensed with.”
+
+“Which is——?”
+
+“An ejectment cause. It’s not one time in ten that they understand
+anything about the matter, or care anything about it; and the court
+usually leads in those actions—but our Duke’s county juries are
+beginning to understand their powers in all others.”
+
+“What do you make of the list?”
+
+“It’s what I call reasonable, ’Squire. There are two men on it who would
+not hang Cain, were he indicted for the murder of Abel.”
+
+“Quakers, of course?”
+
+“Not they. The time was when we were reduced to the ‘thee’s’ and the
+‘thou’s’ for this sort of support; but philanthropy is abroad, sir,
+covering the land. Talk of the schoolmaster!—Why, ’Squire, a new
+philanthropical idee will go two feet to the schoolmaster’s one.
+Pro-nigger, anti-gallows, eternal peace, woman’s rights, the people’s
+power, and anything of that sort, sweeps like a tornado through the
+land. Get a juror who has just come into the anti-gallows notion, and I
+would defy the State to hang a body-snatcher who lived by murdering his
+subjects.”
+
+“And you count on two of these partisans for our case?”
+
+“Lord no, sir. The District Attorney himself knows them both; and
+Davis’s counsel have been studying that list for the last week, as if it
+were Blackstone in the hands of a new beginner. I can tell you, ’Squire
+Dunscomb, that the jury-list is a most important part of a case out here
+in the country!”
+
+“I am much afraid it is, Timms; though I never examined one in my life.”
+
+“I can believe you, sir, from what I have seen of your practice. But
+principles and facts won’t answer in an age of the world when men are
+ruled by talk and prejudice. There is not a case of any magnitude tried,
+now-a-days, without paying proper attention to the jury. We are pretty
+well off, on the whole; and I am tolerably sanguine of a disagreement,
+though I fear an acquittal is quite out of the question.”
+
+“You rely on one or two particularly intelligent and disinterested men,
+ha! Timms?”
+
+“I rely on five or six particularly ignorant and heated partisans, on
+the contrary;—men who have been reading about the abolishing of capital
+punishments, and who in gin’ral, because they’ve got hold of some
+notions that have been worn out as far back as the times of the Cæsars,
+fancy themselves philosophers and the children of progress. The country
+is getting to be full of what I call donkeys and racers; the donkey is
+obstinate, and backs going up hill; while the racers will not only break
+their own necks, but those of their riders too, unless they hold up long
+before they reach their goal.”
+
+“I did not know, Timms, that you think so much on such subjects. To me,
+you have always appeared to be a purely working-man—no theorist.”
+
+“It is precisely because I am a man of action, and live in the world,
+and see things as they were meant to be seen, that I laugh at your
+theorists. Why, sir, this country, in my judgment, for the time being,
+could much better get along without preaching, than without hanging. I
+don’t say always; for there is no telling yet what is to be the upshot
+of preaching. It may turn out as many think; in which case human natur’
+will undergo a change that will pretty much destroy our business. Such a
+state of things would be worse for the bar, ’Squire, than the Code, or
+the last fee-bill.”
+
+“I’m not so sure of that, Timms; there are few things worse than this
+infernal Code.”
+
+“Well, to my taste, the fee-bill is the most disagreeable of the two. A
+man can stand any sort of law, and any sort of practice; but he can’t
+stand any sort of pay. I hear the circuit is to be held by one of the
+new judges—a people’s man, altogether.”
+
+“You mean by that, I suppose, Timms, one of those who did not hold
+office under the old system? It is said that the new broom sweeps
+clean—it is fortunate ours has not brushed away all the old incumbents.”
+
+“No, that is to come; and come it will, as sure as the sun rises. We
+must have rotation on the bench, as well as in all other matters. You
+see, ’Squire, rotation is a sort of _claim_ with many men, who have no
+other. They fancy the earth to have been created on a sort of Jim Crow
+principle, because it turns round.”
+
+“That is it; and it explains the clamour that is made about it. But to
+return to this jury, Timms; on the whole, you like it, I should infer?”
+
+“Not too well, by any means. There are six or eight names on the list
+that I’m always glad to see; for they belong to men who are friendly to
+me——”
+
+“Good God, man—it cannot be possible that you count on such assistants
+in a trial for a human life!”
+
+“Not count on it, ’Squire Dunscomb! I count on it from an action of
+trespass on the case, to this indictment—count on it, quite as much, and
+a good deal more rationally, than you count on your law and evidence.
+Didn’t I carry that heavy case _for_ the railroad company on that
+principle altogether? The law was lead against us they say, and the
+facts were against us; but the verdict was in our favour. That’s what I
+call practising law!”
+
+“Yes; I remember to have heard of that case, and it was always a wonder
+with the bar how you got along with it. Had it been a verdict _against_
+a corporation, no one would have thought anything of it—but to carry a
+bad case _for_ a company, now-a-days, is almost an unheard-of thing.”
+
+“You are quite right, sir. I can beat any railroad in the State, with a
+jury of a neighbourhood, let the question or facts be what they may;
+but, in this instance, I beat the neighbourhood, and all through the
+faith the jury had in _me_. It’s a blessed institution, this of the
+jury, ’Squire Dunscomb!—no doubt it makes us the great, glorious, and
+free people that we are!”
+
+“If the bench continue to lose its influence as it has done, the next
+twenty years will see it a curse of the worst character. It is now
+little more than a popular cabal in all cases in the least calculated to
+awaken popular feeling or prejudice.”
+
+“There’s the rub in this capital case of ours. Mary Monson has neglected
+popularity altogether; and she is likely to suffer for it.”
+
+“Popularity!” exclaimed Dunscomb, in a tone of horror—“and this in a
+matter of life and death! What are we coming to in the law, as well as
+in politics! No public man is to be found of sufficient moral courage,
+or intellectual force, to stem this torrent; which is sweeping away
+everything before it. But in what has our client failed, Timms?”
+
+“In almost everything connected with this one great point; and what
+vexes me is her wonderful power of pleasing, which is completely thrown
+away. ’Squire Dunscomb, I would carry this county for Free Sile or ag’in
+it, with that lady to back me, as a wife.”
+
+“What, if she should refuse to resort to popular airs and graces?”
+
+“I mean, of course, she aiding and abetting. I would give the world,
+now, could we get the judge into her company for half an hour. It would
+make a friend of him; and it is still something to have a friend in the
+judge in a criminal case.”
+
+“You may well say ‘_still_,’ Timms; how much longer it will be so, is
+another matter. Under the old system it would be hopeless to expect so
+much complaisance in a judge; but I will not take it on myself to say
+what a people’s judge will not do.”
+
+“If I thought the thing could be managed, by George I would attempt it!
+The grand jurors visit the gaols, and why not the judges? What do you
+think, sir, of an anonymous letter hinting to his honour that a visit to
+Mrs. Gott—who is an excellent creature in her way—might serve the ends
+of justice!”
+
+“As I think of all underhanded movements and trickery. No, no, Timms;
+you had better let our client remain unpopular, than undertake anything
+of this nature.”
+
+“Perhaps you are right, sir. Unpopular she is, and will be, as long as
+she pursues her present course; whereas she might carry all classes of
+men with her. For my part, ’Squire Dunscomb, I’ve found this young
+lady”—here Timms paused, hemmed, and concluded by looking a little
+foolish—a character of countenance by no means common with one of his
+shrewdness and sagacity.
+
+“So, so, Master Timms,” said the senior counsel, regarding the junior
+with a sort of sneer—“you are as great a fool as my nephew, Jack
+Wilmeter; and have fallen in love with a pretty face, in spite of the
+grand jury and the gallows!”
+
+Timms gave a gulp, seemed to catch his breath, and regained enough of
+his self-command to be able to answer.
+
+“I’m in hopes that Mr. Wilmeter will think better of this, sir,” he
+said, “and turn his views to a quarter where they will be particularly
+acceptable. It would hardly do for a young gentleman of his expectations
+to take a wife out of a gaol.”
+
+“Enough of this foolery, Timms, and come to the point. Your remarks
+about popularity may have some sense in them, if matters have been
+pushed too far in a contrary direction. Of what do you complain?”
+
+“In the first place, she will not show herself at the windows; and that
+offends a great many persons, who think it proud and aristocratic in her
+not to act as other criminals act. Then, she has made a capital mistake
+with a leading reporter, who sent in his name, and desired an interview;
+which she declined granting. She will hear from that man, depend on it,
+sir.”
+
+“I shall look to him, then—for, though this class of men is fast putting
+the law under foot, it may be made to turn on them, by one who
+understands it, and has the courage to use it. I shall not allow the
+rights of Mary Monson to be invaded by such a fungus of letters.”
+
+“Fungus of letters! Ahem—if it was anybody but yourself, ’Squire, that I
+was talking to, I might remind you that these funguses flourish on the
+dunghill of the common mind.”
+
+“No matter; the law _can_ be made to touch them, when in good hands; and
+mine have now some experience. Has this reporter resented the refusal of
+the prisoner to see him?”
+
+“He is squinting that way, and has got himself sent to Biberry by two or
+three journals, to report the progress of the trial. I know the man; he
+is vindictive, impudent, and always uses his craft to indulge his
+resentments.”
+
+“Ay, many of those gentry are up to that. Is it not surprising, Timms,
+that in a country for ever boasting of its freedom, men do not see how
+much abuse there is of a very important interest, in suffering these
+irresponsible tyrants to ride rough-shod over the community?”
+
+“Lord, ’Squire, it is not with the reporters only, that abuses are to be
+found. I was present, the other day, at a conversation between a judge
+and a great town lawyer, when the last deplored the state of the juries!
+‘What would you have?’ says his Honour; ‘angels sent down from Heaven to
+fill the jury-boxes?’ Waal”—Timms never could get over the defects of
+his early associations—“Waal, ’Squire,” he continued, with a shrewd leer
+of the eyes, “I thought a few saints might be squeezed in between the
+lowest angel in Heaven and the average of our Duke’s county pannels.
+This is a great fashion of talking that is growing up among us to meet
+an objection by crying out, ‘men are not angels;’ as if some men are not
+better than others.”
+
+“The institutions clearly maintain that some men are better than others,
+Timms!”
+
+“That’s news to me, I will own. I thought the institutions declared all
+men alike—that is, all white men; I know that the niggers are
+non-suited.”
+
+“They are unsuited, at least, according to the spirit of the
+institutions. If all men are supposed to be alike, what use is there in
+the elections? Why not draw lots for office, as we draw lots for juries?
+Choice infers inequalities, or the practice is an absurdity. But here
+comes McBrain, with a face so full of meaning, he must have something to
+tell us.”
+
+Sure enough, the bridegroom-physician came into the room at that
+instant; and without circumlocution he entered at once on the topic that
+was then uppermost in his mind. It was the custom of the neighbourhood
+to profit by the visits of this able practitioner to his country place,
+by calling on him for advice in such difficult cases as existed anywhere
+in the vicinity of Timbully. Even his recent marriage did not entirely
+protect him from these appeals, which brought so little pecuniary
+advantage as to be gratuitous; and he had passed much of the last two
+days in making professional visits in a circle around his residence that
+included Biberry. Such were the means by which he had obtained the
+information that now escaped from him, as it might be, involuntarily.
+
+“I have never known so excited a state of the public mind,” he cried,
+“as now exists all around Biberry, on the subject of your client, Tom,
+and this approaching trial. Go where I may, see whom I will, let the
+disease be as serious as possible, all, patients, parents, friends and
+nurses, commence business with asking me what I think of Mary Monson,
+and of her guilt or innocence.”
+
+“That’s because you are married, Ned,”—Dunscomb coolly answered—“Now, no
+one thinks of putting such a question to _me_. I see lots of people, as
+well as yourself; but not a soul has asked me whether I thought Mary
+Monson guilty or innocent.”
+
+“Poh! You are her counsel, and no one could take the liberty. I dare say
+that even Mr. Timms, here, your associate, has never compared notes with
+you on that particular point.”
+
+Timms was clearly not quite himself; and he did not look as shrewd as he
+once would have done at such a remark. He kept in the back-ground, and
+was content to listen.
+
+“I do suppose association with a brother in the law, and in a case of
+life and death, is something like matrimony, Dr. McBrain. A good deal
+must be taken for granted, and not a little on credit. As a man is bound
+to believe his wife the most excellent, virtuous, most amiable and best
+creature on earth, so is a counsel bound to consider his client
+innocent. The relation, in each case, is confidential, however; and I
+shall not pry into your secrets, any more than I shall betray one of my
+own.”
+
+“I asked for none, and wish none; but one may express surprise at the
+intense degree of excitement that prevails all through Duke’s, and even
+in the adjacent counties.”
+
+“The murder of a man and his wife in cold blood, accompanied by robbery
+and arson, are enough to arouse the community. In this particular case
+the feeling of interest is increased, I make no doubt, by the
+extraordinary character, as well as by the singular mystery, of the
+party accused. I have had many clients, Ned, but never one like this
+before; as you have had many wives, but no one so remarkable as the
+present Mrs. McBrain.”
+
+“Your time will come yet, Master Dunscomb—recollect I have always
+prognosticated that.”
+
+“You forget that I am approaching sixty. A man’s heart is as hard and
+dry as a bill in chancery at that age—but, I beg your pardon, Ned; _you_
+are an exception.”
+
+“I certainly believe that a man can have affections, even at
+four-score—and what is more, I believe that when the reason and judgment
+come in aid of the passions——”
+
+Dunscomb laughed outright; nay, he even gave a little shout, his
+bachelor habits having rendered him more exuberant in manner than might
+otherwise have been the case.
+
+“Passions!” he cried, rubbing his hands, and looking round for Timms,
+that he might have some one to share in what he regarded as a capital
+joke. “The passions of a fellow of three-score! Ned, you do not flatter
+yourself that you have been marrying the Widow Updyke in consequence of
+any _passion_ you feel for her?”
+
+“I do, indeed,” returned the Doctor, with spirit; mustering resolution
+to carry the war into the enemy’s country—“Let me tell you, Tom
+Dunscomb, that a warm-hearted fellow can love a woman dearly, long after
+the age you have mentioned—that is, provided he has not let all feeling
+die within him, for want of watering a plant that is the most precious
+boon of a most gracious Providence.”
+
+“Ay, if he begin at twenty, and keep even pace with his beloved down the
+descent of time.”
+
+“That may all be true; but, if it has been his misfortune to lose one
+partner, a second——”
+
+“And a third, Ned, a third—why not foot the bill at once, as they say in
+the market?”
+
+“Well, a third, too, if circumstances make that demand on him. Anything
+is better than leaving the affections to stagnate for want of
+cultivation.”
+
+“Adam in Paradise, by Jove!—But, I’ll not reproach you again, since you
+have got so gentle and kind a creature, and one who is twenty years your
+junior——”
+
+“Only eighteen, if you please, Mr. Dunscomb.”
+
+“Now, I should be glad to know whether you have added those two years to
+the bride’s age, or subtracted them from that of the bridegroom! I
+suppose the last, however, as a matter of course.”
+
+“I do not well see how you can suppose any such thing, knowing my age as
+well as you do. Mrs. McBrain is forty-two, an age when a woman can be as
+loveable as at nineteen—more so, if her admirer happens to be a man of
+sense.”
+
+“And sixty-two. Well, Ned, you are incorrigible; and, for the sake of
+the excellent woman who has consented to have you, I only hope this will
+be the last exhibition of your weakness. So they talk a good deal of
+Mary Monson, up and down the country, do they?”
+
+“Of little else, I can assure you. I am sorry to say, the tide seems to
+be setting strongly against her.”
+
+“That is bad news; as few jurors, now-a-days, are superior to such an
+influence. What is said, in particular, Dr. McBrain?—In the way of
+facts, I mean?”
+
+“One report is that the accused is full of money; and that a good deal
+of that which she is scattering broad-cast has been seen by different
+persons, at different times, in the possession of the deceased Mrs.
+Goodwin.”
+
+“Let them retail that lie, far and near, ’Squire, and we’ll turn it to
+good account,” said Timms, taking out his note-book, and writing down
+what he had just heard. “I have reason to think that every dollar Miss
+Monson has uttered since her confinement——”
+
+“Imprisonment would be a better word, Mr. Timms,” interrupted the
+Doctor.
+
+“I see no great difference,” replied the literal attorney—“but
+imprisonment, if you prefer it. I have reason to think that every dollar
+Mary Monson has put in circulation since she entered the gaol at
+Biberry, has come from either young Mr. Wilmeter or myself, in exchange
+for hundred-dollar notes—and, in one instance, for a note of five
+hundred dollars. She is well off, I can tell you, gentlemen; and if she
+is to be executed, her executor will have something to do when all is
+over.”
+
+“You do not intend to allow her to be hanged, Timms?” demanded McBrain,
+aghast.
+
+“Not if I can help it, Doctor; and this lie about the money, when
+clearly disproved, will be of capital service to her. Let them circulate
+it as much as they please, the rebound will be in proportion to the
+blow. The more they circulate that foolish rumour, the better it will be
+for our client when we come to trial.”
+
+“I suppose you are right, Timms; though I could prefer plainer dealings.
+A cause in which you are employed, however, must have more or less of
+management.”
+
+“Which is better, ’Squire, than your law and evidence. But what else has
+Dr. McBrain to tell us?”
+
+“I hear that Peter Goodwin’s nephew, who it seems had some expectations
+from the old people, is particularly savage, and leaves no stone
+unturned to get up a popular feeling against the accused.”
+
+“He had best beware,” said Dunscomb, his usually colourless but handsome
+face flushing as he spoke. “I shall not trifle in a matter of this
+sort—ha! Timms?”
+
+“Lord bless you, ’Squire, Duke’s county folks wouldn’t understand a
+denial of the privilege to say what they please in a case of this sort.
+They fancy this is liberty; and ‘touch my honour, take your poker,’ is
+not more sensitive than the feelin’ of liberty in these parts. I’m
+afraid that not only this Joe Davis, but the reporters, will say just
+what they please; and Mary Monson’s rights will whistle for it. You will
+remember that our judge is not only a bran-new one, but he drew the two
+years’ term into the bargain. No, I think it will be wisest to let the
+law, and old principles, and the right, and _true_ liberty, quite alone;
+and to bow the knee to things as they are. A good deal is said about our
+fathers, and their wisdom, and patriotism, and sacrifices; but nobody
+dreams of doing as they _did_, or of reasoning as they _reasoned_. Life
+is made up, in reality, of these little matters in a corner; while the
+great principles strut about in buckram, for men to admire them, and
+talk about them. I do take considerable delight, ’Squire Dunscomb, in
+hearing you enlarge on a principle, whether it be in law, morals, or
+politics; but I should no more think of prac_ty_sing on ’em, than I
+should think of refusing a thousand dollar fee.”
+
+“Is that your price?” demanded McBrain, with curiosity—“Do you work for
+as large a sum as that, in this case, Timms?”
+
+“I’m paid, Doctor; just as you was”—the attorney never stuck at
+grammar—“just as you was for that great operation on the Wall-Street
+Millenary’ian——”
+
+“Millionaire, you mean, Timms,” said Dunscomb, coolly—“it means one
+worth a million.”
+
+“I never attempt a foreign tongue but I stumble,” said the attorney,
+simply; for he knew that both his friends were familiar with his origin,
+education, and advancement in life, and that it was wisest to deny
+nothing to _them_; “but since I have been so much with Mary Monson and
+her woman, I do own a desire to speak the language they use.”
+
+Again Dunscomb regarded his associate intently; something comical
+gleaming in his eye.
+
+“Timms, you have fallen in love with our handsome client,” he quietly
+remarked.
+
+“No, sir; not quite as bad as that, _yet_; though I will acknowledge
+that the lady is very interesting. Should she be acquitted, and could we
+only get some knowledge of her early history—why, that _might_ put a new
+face on matters.”
+
+“I must drive over to Biberry in the morning, and have another interview
+with the lady myself. And now, Ned, I will join your wife, and read an
+epithalamium prepared for this great occasion. You need not trouble
+yourself to follow, the song being no novelty; for I have read it twice
+before on your account.”
+
+A hearty laugh at his own wit concluded the discourse on the part of the
+great York counsellor; though Timms remained some time longer with the
+Doctor, questioning the latter touching opinions and facts gleaned by
+the physician in the course of his circuit.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIV.
+
+ “From his brimstone bed at break of day,
+ A walking the devil is gone,
+ To visit his little snug farm of the earth,
+ And see how his stock went on.”
+ _Coleridge._
+
+
+Dunscomb was as good as his word. Next morning he was on his way to
+Biberry. He was thoughtful; had laid a bundle of papers on the front
+seat of the carriage, and went his way musing and silent. Singularly
+enough, his only companion was Anna Updyke, who had asked a seat in the
+carriage timidly, but with an earnestness that prevailed. Had Jack
+Wilmeter been at Biberry, this request would not have been made; but she
+knew he was in town, and that she might make the little excursion
+without the imputation of indelicacy, so far as he was concerned. Her
+object will appear in the course of the narrative.
+
+The “best tavern” in Biberry was kept by Daniel Horton. The wife of this
+good man had a native propensity to talk that had been essentially
+cultivated in the course of five-and-twenty years’ practice in the inn
+where she had commenced her career as maid; and was now finishing it as
+mistress. As is common with persons of her class, she knew hundreds of
+those who frequented her house; calling each readily by name, and
+treating every one with a certain degree of professional familiarity
+that is far from uncommon in country inns.
+
+“Mr. Dunscomb, I declare!” cried this woman, as she entered the room,
+and found the counsellor and his companion in possession of her best
+parlour. “This is a pleasure I did not expect until the circuit. It’s
+quite twenty years, ’Squire, since I had the pleasure of first waiting
+on you in this house. And a pleasure it has always been; for I’ve not
+forgotten the ejectment suit that you carried for Horton when we was
+only new-beginners. I am glad to see you, sir; welcome to Biberry, as is
+this young lady, who is your daughter, I presume, Mr. Dunscomb?”
+
+“You forget that I am a bachelor, Mrs. Horton—no marrying man, in any
+sense of the word.”
+
+“I might have known that, had I reflected a moment; for they say Mary
+Monson employs none but bachelors and widowers in her case; and you are
+her counsel, I know.”
+
+“This is a peculiarity of which I was not aware. Timms is a bachelor,
+certainly, as well as myself; but to whom else can you allude? Jack
+Wilmeter, my nephew, can hardly be said to be employed at all; nor, for
+that matter, Michael Millington; though neither is married.”
+
+“Yes, sir; we know both of the last well, they having lodged with us. If
+young Mr. Wilmeter is single, I fancy it is not his own fault”—here Mrs.
+Horton looked very wise, but continued talking—“Young gentlemen of a
+good appearance and handsome fortunes commonly have not much difficulty
+in getting wives—not as much as young ladies; for you men make the law,
+and you give your own sex the best chance, almost as a matter of
+course——”
+
+“Pardon me, Mrs. Horton,” interrupted Dunscomb, a little formally, like
+one who felt great interest in the subject—“you were remarking that we
+have the best chance of getting married; and here have I been a bachelor
+all my life, trying in vain to enter into the happy state of
+matrimony—if, indeed, it deserve to be so termed.”
+
+“It could not be very difficult for _you_ to find a companion,” said the
+landlady, shaking her head; “and for the reason I have just given.”
+
+“Which was——?”
+
+“That you men have made the laws and profit by them. _You_ can _ask_
+whom you please; but a woman is obliged to wait to be asked.”
+
+“You never were in a greater mistake in your life, I do assure you, my
+good Mrs. Horton. There is no such law on the subject. Any woman may put
+the question, as well as any man. This _was_ the law, and I don’t think
+the Code has changed it.”
+
+“Yes, I know that well enough, and get laughed at, and pointed at, for
+her pains. I know that a good deal is said about leap-year; but who ever
+heard of a woman’s putting the question? I fancy that even Mary Monson
+would think twice before she took so bold a step once.”
+
+“Mary Monson!” exclaimed Dunscomb, suddenly turning towards his
+hostess—“Has she a reputation for being attentive to gentlemen?”
+
+“Not that I know of; but——”
+
+“Then allow me to say, my good Mrs. Horton,” interrupted the celebrated
+counsellor, with a manner that was almost austere, “that you have been
+greatly to blame in hazarding the sort of remark you did. If you _know_
+nothing of the character you certainly insinuated, you should have said
+nothing. It is very extraordinary that women, alive as they must be to
+the consequences to one of their own sex, are ever more ready than men
+to throw out careless, and frequently malicious hints, that take away a
+reputation, and do a melancholy amount of harm in the world. Slander is
+the least respectable, the most unchristianlike, and the most
+unlady-like vice, of all the secondary sins of your sex. One would think
+the danger you are all exposed to in common, would teach you greater
+caution.”
+
+“Yes, sir, that is true; but this Mary Monson is in such a pickle
+already, that it is not easy to make _her_ case much worse,” answered
+Mrs. Horton, a good deal frightened at the austerity of Dunscomb’s
+rebuke; for his reputation was too high to render his good or bad
+opinion a matter of indifference to her. “If you only knew the half that
+is said of her in Duke’s, you wouldn’t mind a careless word or so about
+her. Everybody thinks her guilty; and a crime, more or less, can be of
+no great matter to the likes of _her_.”
+
+“Ah, Mrs. Horton, these careless words do a vast deal of harm. They
+insinuate away a reputation in a breath; and my experience has taught me
+that they who are the most apt to use them, are persons whose own
+conduct will least bear the light. Women with a whole log-heap of beams
+in their own eyes, are remarkable for discovering motes. Give me the
+female who floats along quietly in her sphere, unoffending and
+charitable, wishing for the best, and as difficult to be brought to
+_think_ as to _do_ evil. But, they talk a good deal against my client,
+do they?”
+
+“More than I have ever known folks talk against any indicted person, man
+or woman. The prize-fighters, who were in for murder, had a pretty hard
+time of it; but nothing to Mary Monson’s. In short, until ’Squire Timms
+came out in her favour, she had no chance at all.”
+
+“This is not very encouraging, certainly—but what is said, Mrs. Horton,
+if you will suffer me to put the question?”
+
+“Why, ’Squire Dunscomb,” answered the woman, pursing up a very pretty
+American mouth of her own, “a body is never sure that you won’t call
+what she says slander——”
+
+“Poh—poh—you know me better than that. I never meddle with that vile
+class of suits. I am employed to defend Mary Monson, you know——”
+
+“Yes, and are well paid for it too, ’Squire Dunscomb, if all that a body
+hears is true,” interrupted Mrs. Horton, a little spitefully. “Five
+thousand dollars, they say, to a cent!”
+
+Dunscomb, who was working literally without other reward than the
+consciousness of doing his duty, smiled, while he frowned at this fresh
+instance of the absurdities into which rumour can lead its votaries.
+Bowing a little apology, he coolly lighted a segar, and proceeded.
+
+“Where is it supposed that Mary Monson can find such large sums to
+bestow, Mrs. Horton?” he quietly asked, when his segar was properly
+lighted. “It is not usual for young and friendless women to have pockets
+so well lined.”
+
+“Nor is it usual for young women to rob and murder old ones, ’Squire.”
+
+“Was Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking thought to be large enough to hold sums
+like that you have mentioned?”
+
+“Nobody knows. Gold takes but little room, as witness Californy. There
+was General Wilton—every one thought him rich as Cæsar——”
+
+“Do you not mean Crœsus, Mrs. Horton?”
+
+“Well, Cæsar or Crœsus; both were rich, I do suppose, and General Wilton
+was thought the equal of either; but, when he died, his estate wouldn’t
+pay his debts. On the other hand, old Davy Davidson was set down by
+nobody at more than twenty thousand, and he left ten times that much
+money. So I say nobody knows. Mrs. Goodwin was always a saving woman,
+though Peter would make the dollars fly, if he could get at them. There
+was certainly a weak spot in Peter, though known to but a very few.”
+
+Dunscomb now listened attentively. Every fact of this nature was of
+importance just then; and nothing could be said of the murdered couple
+that would not induce all engaged in the cause to prick up their ears.
+
+“I have always understood that Peter Goodwin was a very respectable sort
+of a man,” observed Dunscomb, with a profound knowledge of human nature,
+which was far more likely to induce the woman to be communicative, in
+the way of opposition, than by any other process—“as respectable a man
+as any about here.”
+
+“So he might be, but he had his weak points as well as other respectable
+men; though, as I have said already, his’n wasn’t generally known.
+Everybody is respectable, I suppose, until they’re found out. But Peter
+is dead and gone, and I have no wish to disturb his grave, which I
+believe to be a sinful act.”
+
+This sounded still more ominously, and it greatly increased Dunscomb’s
+desire to learn more. Still he saw that great caution must be used, Mrs.
+Horton choosing to affect much tenderness for her deceased neighbour’s
+character. The counsellor knew human nature well enough to be aware that
+indifference was sometimes as good a stimulant as opposition; and he now
+thought it expedient to try the virtue of that quality. Without making
+any immediate answer, therefore, he desired the attentive and anxious
+Anna Updyke to perform some little office for him; thus managing to get
+her out of the room, while the hostess stayed behind. Then his segar did
+not quite suit him, and he tried another, making divers little delays
+that set the landlady on the tenter-hooks of impatience.
+
+“Yes, Peter is gone—dead and buried—and I hope the sod lies lightly on
+his remains!” she said, sighing ostentatiously.
+
+“Therein you are mistaken, Mrs. Horton,” the counsellor coolly
+remarked—“the remains of neither of those found in the ruins of the
+house are under ground yet; but are kept for the trial.”
+
+“What a time we shall have of it!—so exciting and full of mystery!”
+
+“And you might add ‘custom,’ Mrs. Horton. The reporters alone, who will
+certainly come from town like an inroad of Cossacks, will fill your
+house.”
+
+“Yes, and themselves too. To be honest with you, ’Squire Dunscomb, too
+many of those gentry wish to be kept for nothing to make them pleasant
+boarders. I dare say, however, we shall be full enough next week. I
+sometimes wish there was no such thing as justice, after a hard-working
+Oyer and Terminer court.”
+
+“You should be under no concern, my good Mrs. Horton, on that subject.
+There is really so little of the thing you have mentioned, that no
+reasonable woman need make herself unhappy about it. So Peter Goodwin
+was a faultless man, was he?”
+
+“As far from it as possible, if the truth was said of him; and seeing
+the man is not absolutely under ground, I do not know why it may not be
+told. I can respect the grave, as well as another; but, as he is not
+buried, one may tell the truth. Peter Goodwin was, by no means, the man
+he seemed to be.”
+
+“In what particular did he fail, my good Mrs. Horton?”
+
+To be _good_ in Dunscomb’s eyes, the landlady well knew, was a great
+honour; and she was flattered as much by the manner in which the words
+were uttered, as by their import. Woman-like, Mrs. Horton was overcome
+by this little bit of homage; and she felt disposed to give up a secret
+which, to do her justice, had been religiously kept now for some ten or
+twelve years between herself and her husband. As she and the counsel
+were alone, dropping her voice a little, more for the sake of
+appearances than for any sufficient reason, the landlady proceeded.
+
+“Why, you must know, ’Squire Dunscomb, that Peter Goodwin was a member
+of meetin’, and a professing Christian, which I suppose was all the
+better for him, seeing that he was to be murdered.”
+
+“And do you consider his being a ‘professing Christian,’ as you call it,
+a circumstance to be concealed?”
+
+“Not at all, sir—but I consider it a good reason why the facts I am
+about to tell you, ought not to be generally known. Scoffers abound; and
+I take it that the feelings of a believer ought to be treated more
+tenderly than those of an unbeliever, for the church’s sake.”
+
+“That is a fashion of the times too—one of the ways of the hour, whether
+it is to last or not. But, proceed if you please, my good Mrs. Horton; I
+am quite curious to know by what particular sin Satan managed to
+overcome this ‘professing Christian?’”
+
+“He drank, ’Squire Dunscomb—no, he _guzzled_, for that is the best word.
+You must know that Dolly was avarice itself—that’s the reason she took
+this Mary Monson in to board, though her house was no ways suited for
+boarders, standing out of the way, with only one small spare bed-room,
+and that under the roof. Had she let this stranger woman come to one of
+the regular houses, as she might have done, and been far better
+accommodated than it was possible for her to be in a garret, it is not
+likely she would have been murdered. She lost her life, as I tell
+Horton, for meddling with other people’s business.”
+
+“If such were the regular and inevitable punishment of that particular
+offence, my good landlady, there would be a great dearth of ladies,”
+said Tom Dunscomb, a little drily—“but, you were remarking that Peter
+Goodwin, the member of meeting, and Mary Monson’s supposed victim, had a
+weakness in favour of strong liquor?”
+
+“Juleps were his choice—I’ve heard of a part of the country, somewhere
+about Virginny, I believe it is, where tee-totallers make an exception
+in favour of juleps—it may do _there_, Squire Dunscomb, but it won’t do
+_here_. No liquor undoes a body, in this part of the country, sooner
+than mint juleps. I will find you ten constitutions that can hold out
+ag’in brandy, or plain grog, or even grog, beer and cider, all three
+together, where you can find me one that will hold out ag’in juleps. I
+always set down a reg’lar julep fancier as a case—that is, in this part
+of the country.”
+
+“Very true, my good landlady, and very sensible and just. I consider you
+a sensible and just woman, whose mind has been enlarged by an extensive
+acquaintance with human nature——”
+
+“A body does pick up a good deal in and around a bar, ’Squire Dunscomb!”
+
+“Pick up, indeed—I’ve known ’em picked up by the dozen myself. And Peter
+_would_ take the juleps?”
+
+“Awfully fond of them! He no more dared to take one at home, however,
+than he dared to go and ask Minister Watch to make him one. No, he
+know’d better where the right sort of article was to be had, and always
+came down to our house when he was dry. Horton mixes stiff, or we should
+have been a good deal better off in the world than we are—not that we’re
+mis’rable, as it is. But Horton takes it strong himself, and he mixes
+strong for others. Peter soon found this out, and he fancied his juleps
+more, as he has often told me himself, than the juleps of the great
+Bowery-man, who has a name for ’em, far and near. Horton _can_ mix a
+julep, if he can do nothing else.”
+
+“And Peter Goodwin was in the habit of frequenting your house privately,
+to indulge this propensity.”
+
+“I’m almost ashamed to own that he did—perhaps it was sinful in us to
+let him; but a body must carry out the idee of trade—our trade is
+tavern-keeping, and it’s our business to mix liquors, though Minister
+Watch says, almost every Sabbath, that professors should do nothing out
+of sight that they wouldn’t do before the whole congregation. I don’t
+hold to that, however; for it would soon break up tavern-keeping
+altogether. Yes, Peter did drink awfully, in a corner.”
+
+“To intoxication, do you mean, Mrs. Horton?”
+
+“To delirrum tremus, sir—yes, full up to that. His way was to come down
+to the village on the pretence of business, and to come right to our
+house, where I’ve known him to take three juleps in the first half-hour.
+Sometimes he’d pretend to go to town to see his sister, when he would
+stay two or three days upstairs in a room that Horton keeps for what he
+calls his _cases_—he has given the room the name of his
+_ward_—hospital-ward he means.”
+
+“Is the worthy Mr. Horton a member of the meeting also, my good
+landlady?”
+
+Mrs. Horton had the grace to colour; but she answered without
+stammering, habit fortifying us in moral discrepancies much more serious
+than even this.
+
+“He was, and I don’t know but I may say he is yet; though he hasn’t
+attended, now, for more than two years. The question got to be between
+meetin’ and the bar; and the bar carried the day, so far as Horton is
+concerned. I’ve held out better, I hope, and expect to gain a victory.
+It’s quite enough to have one backslider in a family, I tell my husband,
+’Squire.”
+
+“A sufficient supply, ma’am—quite a sufficiency. So Peter Goodwin lay in
+your house drunk, days at a time?”
+
+“I’m sorry to say he did. He was here a week once, with delirrum tremus
+on him; but Horton carried him through by the use of juleps; for
+_that_’s the time to take ’em, everybody says; and we got him home
+without old Dolly’s knowing that he hadn’t been with his sister the
+whole time. That turn satisfied Peter for three good months.”
+
+“Did Peter pay as he went, or did you keep a score?”
+
+“Ready money, sir. Catch us keeping an account with a man when his wife
+ruled the roast! No, Peter paid like a king, for every mouthful he
+swallowed.”
+
+“I am far from certain that the comparison is a good one, kings being in
+no degree remarkable for paying their debts. But, is it not possible
+that Peter may have set his own house on fire, and thus have caused all
+this calamity, for which my client is held responsible?”
+
+“I’ve thought that over a good deal since the murder, ’Squire, but don’t
+well see how it can be made out. Setting the building on fire is simple
+enough; but who killed the old couple, and who robbed the house, unless
+this Mary Monson did both?”
+
+“The case has its difficulties, no doubt; but I have known the day to
+dawn after a darker night than this. I believe that Mrs. Goodwin and her
+husband were very nearly of the same height?”
+
+“Exactly; I’ve seen them measure, back to back. He was a very short man,
+and she a very tall woman!”
+
+“Do you know anything of a German female who is said to have lived with
+the unfortunate couple?”
+
+“There has been some talk of such a person since the fire; but Dolly
+Goodwin kept no help. She was too stingy for that; then she had no need
+of it, being very strong and stirring for her time of life.”
+
+“Might not a boarder, like Miss Monson, have induced her to take this
+foreigner into her family for a few weeks? The nearest neighbours, those
+who would be most likely to know all about it, say that no wages were
+given; the woman working for her food and lodging.”
+
+“’Squire Dunscomb, you’ll never make it out that any German killed Peter
+and his wife.”
+
+“Perhaps not; though even that is possible. Such, however, is not the
+object of my present enquiries—but, here comes my associate counsel, and
+I will take another occasion to continue this conversation, my good Mrs.
+Horton.”
+
+Timms entered with a hurried air. For the first time in his life he
+appeared to his associate and old master to be agitated. Cold,
+calculating, and cunning, this man seldom permitted himself to be so
+much thrown off his guard as to betray emotion; but now he actually did.
+There was a tremor in his form that extended to his voice; and he seemed
+afraid to trust the latter even in the customary salutations. Nodding
+his head, he drew a chair and took his seat.
+
+“You have been to the gaol?” asked Dunscomb.
+
+A nod was the answer.
+
+“You were admitted, and had an interview with our client?”
+
+Nod the third was the only reply.
+
+“Did you put the questions to her, as I desired?”
+
+“I did, sir; but I would sooner cross-examine all Duke’s, than undertake
+to get anything she does not wish to tell, out of that one young lady!”
+
+“I fancy most young ladies have a faculty for keeping such matters to
+themselves as they do not wish to reveal. Am I to understand that you
+got no answers?”
+
+“I really do not know, ’Squire. She was polite, and obliging, and
+smiling—but, somehow or other, I do not recollect her replies.”
+
+“You must be falling in love, Timms, to return with such an account,”
+retorted Dunscomb, a cold but very sarcastic smile passing over his
+face. “Have a care, sir; ’tis a passion that makes a fool of a man
+sooner than any other. I do not think there is much danger of the lady’s
+returning your flame; unless, indeed, you can manage to make her
+acquittal a condition of the match.”
+
+“I am afraid—dreadfully afraid, her acquittal will be a very desperate
+affair,” answered Timms, passing his hands down his face, as if to wipe
+away his weakness. “The deeper I get into the matter, the worse it
+appears!”
+
+“Have you given our client any intimation to this effect?”
+
+“I hadn’t the heart to do it. She is just as composed, and calm, and
+tranquil, and judicious—yes, and ingenious, as if _she_ were only the
+counsel in this affair of life and death! I couldn’t distrust so much
+tranquillity. I wish I knew her history!”
+
+“My interrogatories pointed out the absolute necessity of her furnishing
+us with the means of enlightening the court and jury on that most
+material point, should the worst come to the worst.”
+
+“I know they did, sir; but they no more got at the truth than my own
+pressing questions. I should like to see that lady on the stand, above
+all things! I think she would bother saucy Williams, and fairly put him
+out of countenance. By the way, sir, I hear he is employed against us by
+the nephew, who is quite furious about the loss of the money, which he
+pretends was a much larger sum than the neighbourhood has commonly
+supposed.”
+
+“I have always thought the relations would employ some one to assist the
+public prosecutor in a case of this magnitude. The theory of our
+government is that the public virtue will see the laws executed; but, in
+my experience, Timms, this public virtue is a very acquiescent and
+indifferent quality, seldom troubling itself even to abate a nuisance,
+until its own nose is offended, or its own pocket damaged.”
+
+“Roguery is always more active than honesty—I found that out long since,
+’Squire. But, it is nat’ral for a public prosecutor not to press one on
+trial for life, and the accused a woman, closer than circumstances seem
+to demand. It is true, that popular feeling is strong ag’in Mary Monson;
+but it was well in the nephew to fee such a bull-dog as Williams, if he
+wishes to make a clean sweep of it.”
+
+“Does our client know this?”
+
+“Certainly; she seems to know all about her case, and has a strange
+pleasure in entering into the mode and manner of her defence. It would
+do your heart good, sir, to see the manner in which she listens, and
+advises, and consults. She’s wonderful handsome at such times!”
+
+“You are in love, Timms; and I shall have to engage some other
+assistant. First Jack, and then you! Umph! This is a strange world, of a
+verity.”
+
+“I don’t think it’s quite as bad with me as that,” said Timms, this time
+rubbing his shaggy eye-brows as if to ascertain whether or not he were
+dreaming, “though I must own I do not feel precisely as I did a month
+since. I wish you would see our client yourself, sir, and make her
+understand how important it is to her interest that we should know
+something of her past history.”
+
+“Do you think her name is rightfully set forth in the indictment?”
+
+“By no means—but, as she has called herself Mary Monson, she cannot
+avail herself of her own acts.”
+
+“Certainly not—I asked merely as a matter of information. She must be
+made to feel the necessity of fortifying us on that particular point,
+else it will go far towards convicting her. Jurors do not like aliases.”
+
+“She knows this already; for I have laid the matter before her, again
+and again. Nothing seems to move her, however; and as to apprehension,
+she appears to be above all fear.”
+
+“This is most extraordinary!—Have you interrogated the maid?”
+
+“How can I? She speaks no English; and I can’t utter a syllable in any
+foreign tongue.”
+
+“Ha! Does she pretend to that much ignorance? Marie Moulin speaks very
+intelligible English, as I know from having conversed with her often.
+She is a clever, prudent Swiss, from one of the French cantons, and is
+known for her fidelity and trustworthiness. With me she will hardly
+venture to practise this deception. If she has feigned ignorance of
+English, it was in order to keep her secrets.”
+
+Timms admitted the probability of its being so; then he entered into a
+longer and more minute detail of the state of the case. In the first
+place, he admitted that, in spite of all his own efforts to the
+contrary, the popular feeling was setting strong against their client.
+“Frank Williams,” as he called the saucy person who bore that name, had
+entered into the struggle might and main, and was making his customary
+impressions.
+
+“His fees must be liberal,” continued Timms, “and I should think are in
+some way dependent on the result; for I never saw the fellow more
+engaged in my life.”
+
+“This precious Code does allow such a bargain to be made between the
+counsel and his client, or any other bargain that is not downright
+conspiracy,” returned Dunscomb; “but I do not see what is to be shared,
+even should Mary Monson be hanged.”
+
+“Do not speak in that manner of so agreeable a person,” cried Timms,
+actually manifesting emotion—“it is unpleasant to think of. It is true,
+a conviction will not bring money to the prosecution, unless it should
+bring to light some of Mrs. Goodwin’s hoards.”
+
+Dunscomb shrugged his shoulders, and his associate proceeded with his
+narrative. Two of the reporters were offended, and their allusions to
+the cause, which were almost daily in their respective journals, were
+ill-natured, and calculated to do great harm, though so far covered as
+to wear an air of seeming candour. The natural effect of this “constant
+dropping,” in a community accustomed to refer everything to the common
+mind, had been “to wear away the stone.” Many of those who, at first,
+had been disposed to sustain the accused, unwilling to believe that one
+so young, so educated, so modest in deportment, so engaging in manners,
+and of the gentler sex, could possibly be guilty of the crimes imputed,
+were now changing their opinions, under the control of this potent and
+sinister mode of working on the public sentiment. The agents employed by
+Timms to counteract this malign influence had failed of their object;
+they working merely for money, while those of the other side were
+resenting what they regarded as an affront.
+
+The family of the Burtons, the nearest neighbours of the Goodwins, no
+longer received Timms with the frank cordiality that they had manifested
+in the earlier period of his intercourse with them. Then, they had been
+communicative, eager to tell all that they knew, and, as the lawyer
+fancied, even a little more; while they were now reserved, uneasy, and
+indisposed to let one-half of the real facts within their knowledge be
+known. Timms thought they had been worked upon, and that they might
+expect some hostile and important testimony from that quarter. The
+consultation ended by an exclamation from Dunscomb on the subject of the
+abuses that were so fast creeping into the administration of justice,
+rendering the boasted freemen of America, though in a different mode,
+little more likely to receive its benefit from an unpolluted stream,
+than they who live under the worn out and confessedly corrupt systems of
+the old world. Such is the tendency of things, and such one of the ways
+of the hour.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XV
+
+ “Are those _her_ ribs through which the sun
+ Did peer, as through a grate;
+ And is that woman all her crew?
+ Is that a Death, and are there two?
+ Is Death that woman’s mate.”
+ _The Phantom Ship._
+
+
+After a short preparatory interview with Anna Updyke, Dunscomb repaired
+to the gaol, whither he had already despatched a note to announce his
+intended visit. Good Mrs. Gott received him with earnest attention; for,
+as the day of trial approached, this kind-hearted woman manifested a
+warmer and warmer interest in the fate of her prisoner.
+
+“You are welcome, Mr. Dunscomb,” said this well-disposed and gentle
+turnkey, as she led the way to the door that opened on the gallery of
+the gaol; “and welcome, again and again. I do wish this business may
+fall into good hands; and I’m afraid Timms is not getting on with it as
+well as he might.”
+
+“My associate has the reputation of being a skilful attorney and a good
+manager, Mrs. Gott.”
+
+“So he has, Mr. Dunscomb; but somehow—I scarce know how myself—but
+somehow, he doesn’t get along with _this_ cause, as well as I have known
+him to get along with others. The excitement in the county is terrible;
+and Gott has had seven anonymous letters to let him know that if Mary
+Monson escape, his hopes from the public are gone for ever. I tell him
+not to mind such contemptible things; but he is frightened half out of
+his wits. It takes good courage, ’Squire, to treat an anonymous letter
+with the contempt it merits.”
+
+“It sometimes does, indeed. Then you think we shall have up-hill work
+with the defence?”
+
+“Dreadful!—I’ve never known a cause so generally tried out of doors as
+this. What makes the matter more provoking, Mary Monson might have had
+it all her own way, if she had been so minded; for, at first, she was
+popularity itself with all the neighbours. Folks nat’rally like beauty,
+and elegance, and youth; and Mary has enough of each to make friends
+anywhere.”
+
+“What! with the ladies?” said Dunscomb, smiling. “Surely not with your
+sex, Mrs. Gott?”
+
+“Yes, with the women, as well as with the men, if she would only use her
+means; but she stands in her own light. Crowds have been round the outer
+windows to hear her play on the harp—they tell me she uses the real
+Jew’s Harp, ’Squire Dunscomb; such as Royal David used to play on; and
+that she has great skill. There is a German in the village who knows all
+about music, and he says Mary Monson has been excellently taught—by the
+very best masters.”
+
+“It is extraordinary; yet it would seem to be so. Will you have the
+goodness to open the door, Mrs. Gott?”
+
+“With all my heart,” answered this, in one sense, very singular turnkey,
+though in another a very every-day character, jingling her keys, but not
+taking a forward step to comply; “Mary Monson expects you. I suppose,
+sir, you know that saucy Frank Williams is retained by the friends of
+the Goodwins?”
+
+“Mr. Timms has told me as much as that. I cannot say, however, that I
+have any particular apprehension of encountering Mr. Williams.”
+
+“No, sir; not _you_, I’ll engage, not in open court; but out of doors
+he’s very formidable.”
+
+“I trust this cause, one involving the life and reputation of a very
+interesting female, will not be tried out of doors, Mrs. Gott. The issue
+is too serious for such a tribunal.”
+
+“So a body would think; but a great deal of law-business is settled,
+they tell me, under the sheds, and in the streets, and in the taverns;
+most especially in the juror’s bed-rooms, and settled in a way it ought
+not to be.”
+
+“I am afraid you are nearer right than every just-minded person could
+wish. But we will talk of this another time—the door if you please,
+now.”
+
+“Yes, sir, in one minute. It would be _so_ easy for Mary Monson to be
+just as popular with everybody in Biberry as she is with me. Let her
+come to one of the side-windows of the gallery this evening, and show
+herself to the folks, and play on that harp of hers, and Royal David
+himself could not have been better liked by the Jews of old, than she
+would soon be by our people hereabouts.”
+
+“It is probably now too late. The court sits in a few days; and the
+mischief, if any there be, must be done.”
+
+“No such thing, begging your pardon, ’Squire. There’s that in Mary
+Monson that can carry anything she pleases. Folks now think her proud
+and consequential, because she will not just stand at one of the grates
+and let them look at her a little.”
+
+“I am afraid, Mrs. Gott, your husband has taught you a greater respect
+for those you call ‘the people,’ than they deserve to receive at your
+hands.”
+
+“Gott is dreadfully afraid of them——”
+
+“And he is set apart by the laws to see them executed on these very
+people,” interrupted Dunscomb, with a sneer; “to levy on their
+possessions, keep the peace, enforce the laws; in short, to make them
+_feel_, whenever it is necessary, that they are _governed_!”
+
+“Gott says ‘that the people _will_ rule.’ That’s _his_ great saying.”
+
+“Will _seem_ to rule, is true enough; but the most that the mass of any
+nation _can_ do, is occasionally to check the proceedings of their
+governors. The every-day work is most effectually done by a favoured few
+here, just as it is done by a favoured few everywhere else. The door,
+now, if you please, my good Mrs. Gott.”
+
+“Yes, sir, in one minute. Dear me! how odd that you should think so.
+Why, I thought that you were a democrat, Mr. Dunscomb?”
+
+“So I am, as between forms of government; but I never was fool enough to
+think that the people can really rule, further than by occasional checks
+and rebukes.”
+
+“What would Gott say to this! Why, he is so much afraid of the people,
+that he tells me he never does anything, without fancying some one is
+looking over his shoulders.”
+
+“Ay, that is a very good rule for a man who wishes to be chosen
+_sheriff_. To be a _bishop_, it would be better to remember the
+omniscient eye.”
+
+“I do declare—oh! Gott never thinks of _that_, more’s the pity,”
+applying the key to the lock. “When you wish to come out, ’Squire, just
+call at this grate”—then dropping her voice to a whisper—“try and
+persuade Mary Monson to show herself at one of the side grates.”
+
+But Dunscomb entered the gallery with no such intention. As he was
+expected, his reception was natural and easy. The prisoner was carefully
+though simply dressed, and she appeared all the better, most probably,
+for some of the practised arts of her woman. Marie Moulin, herself, kept
+modestly within the cell, where, indeed, she passed most of her time,
+leaving the now quite handsomely furnished gallery to the uses of her
+mistress.
+
+After the first few words of salutation, Dunscomb took the chair he was
+invited to occupy, a good deal at a loss how to address a woman of his
+companion’s mien and general air as a culprit about to be tried for her
+life. He first attempted words of course.
+
+“I see you have had a proper regard to your comforts in this miserable
+place,” he remarked.
+
+“Do not call it by so forbidding a name, Mr. Dunscomb,” was the answer,
+given with a sorrowful, but exceedingly winning smile—“it is _my_ place
+of _refuge_.”
+
+“Do you still persist in refusing to tell me against _what_, Miss
+Monson?”
+
+“I persist in nothing that ought not to be done, I hope. At another time
+I may be more communicative. But, if what Mrs. Gott tells me is correct,
+I need these walls to prevent my being torn to pieces by those she calls
+the people, outside.”
+
+Dunscomb looked with amazement at the being who quietly made this remark
+on her own situation. Of beautiful form, with all the signs of a gentle
+origin and refined education, young, handsome, delicate, nay, dainty of
+speech and acts, there she sat, indicted for arson and murder, and about
+to be tried for her life, with the composure of a lady in her
+drawing-room! The illuminated expression that, at times, rendered her
+countenance so very remarkable, had now given place to one of sobered
+sadness; though apprehension did not appear to be in the least
+predominant.
+
+“The sheriff has instilled into his wife a very healthful respect for
+those she calls the people—healthful, for one who looks to their voices
+for his support. This is very American.”
+
+“I suppose it to be much the same everywhere. I have been a good deal
+abroad, Mr. Dunscomb, and cannot say I perceive any great difference in
+men.”
+
+“Nor is there any, though circumstances cause different modes of
+betraying their weaknesses, as well as what there is in them that is
+good. But the people in this country, Miss Monson, possess a power that,
+in your case, is not to be despised. As Mrs. Gott would intimate, it may
+be prudent for you to remember _that_.”
+
+“Surely _you_ would not have me make an exhibition of myself, Mr.
+Dunscomb, at the window of a gaol!”
+
+“As far from that as possible. I would have you do nothing that is
+unbecoming one of your habits and opinions—nothing, in short, that would
+be improper, as a means of defence, by one accused and tried by the
+State. Nevertheless, it is always wiser to make friends than to make
+enemies.”
+
+Mary Monson lowered her eyes to the carpet, and Dunscomb perceived that
+her thoughts wandered. They were not on her critical situation. It was
+indispensably necessary, however, that he should be explicit, and he did
+not shrink from his duty. Gently, but distinctly, and with a clearness
+that a far less gifted mind than that of the accused could comprehend,
+he now opened the subject of the approaching trial. A few words were
+first ventured on its grave character, and on the vast importance it was
+in all respects to his client; to which the latter listened attentively,
+but without the slightest visible alarm. Next, he alluded to the stories
+that were in circulation, the impression they were producing, and the
+danger there was that her rights might be affected by these sinister
+opinions.
+
+“But I am to be tried by a judge and a jury, they tell me,” said Mary
+Monson, when Dunscomb ceased speaking—“they will come from a distance,
+and will not be prejudiced against me by all this idle gossip.”
+
+“Judges and jurors are only men, and nothing goes farther with less
+effort than your ‘idle gossip.’ Nothing is repeated accurately, or it is
+very rare to find it so; and those who only half comprehend a subject
+are certain to relate with exaggerations and false colourings.”
+
+“How, then, can the electors discover the real characters of those for
+whom they are required to vote?” demanded Mary Monson, smiling; “or get
+just ideas of the measures they are to support or to oppose?”
+
+“Half the time they do neither. It exceeds all our present means, at
+least, to diffuse sufficient information for _that_. The consequence is,
+that appearances and assertions are made to take the place of facts. The
+mental food of the bulk of this nation is an opinion simulated by the
+artful to answer their own purposes. But the power of the masses is
+getting to be very formidable—more formidable in a way never
+contemplated by those who formed the institutions, than in any way that
+was foreseen. Among other things, they begin to hold the administration
+of justice in the hollow of their hands.”
+
+“I am not to be tried by the masses, I trust. If so, my fate would be
+very hard, I fear, judging from what I hear in my little excursions in
+the neighbourhood.”
+
+“Excursions, Miss Monson!” repeated the astonished Dunscomb.
+
+“Excursions, sir; I make one for the benefit of air and exercise, every
+favourable night, at this fine season of the year. Surely you would not
+have me cooped up here in a gaol, without the relief of a little fresh
+air?”
+
+“With the knowledge and concurrence of the sheriff, or that of his
+wife?”
+
+“Perhaps not strictly with those of either; though I suspect good Mrs.
+Gott has an inkling of my movements. It would be too hard to deny myself
+air and exercise, both of which are very necessary to my health, because
+I am charged with these horrid crimes.”
+
+Dunscomb passed a hand over his brow, as if he desired to clear his
+mental vision by friction of the physical, and, for a moment, sat
+absolutely lost in wonder. He scarce knew whether he was or was not
+dreaming.
+
+“And you have actually been outside of these walls, Miss Monson!” he
+exclaimed, at length.
+
+“Twenty times, at least. Why should I stay within them, when the means
+of quitting them are always in my power?”
+
+As Mary Monson said this, she showed her counsel a set of keys that
+corresponded closely with those which good Mrs. Gott was in the habit of
+using whenever she came to open the door of that particular gallery. A
+quiet smile betrayed how little the prisoner fancied there was anything
+remarkable in all this.
+
+“Are you aware, Miss Monson, it is felony to assist a prisoner to
+escape?”
+
+“So they tell me, Mr. Dunscomb; but as I have not escaped, or made any
+attempt to escape, and have returned regularly and in good season to my
+gaol, no one can be harmed for what I have done. Such, at least, is the
+opinion of Mr. Timms.”
+
+Dunscomb did not like the expression of face that accompanied this
+speech. It might be too much to say it was absolutely cunning; but there
+was so much of the manœuvring of one accustomed to manage in it, that it
+awakened the unpleasant distrust that existed in the earlier days of his
+intercourse with this singular young woman, and which had now been
+dormant for several weeks. There was, however, so much of the cold
+polish of the upper classes in his client’s manner, that the offending
+expression was thrown off from the surface of her looks, as light is
+reflected from the ground and silvered mirror. At the very instant which
+succeeded this seeming gleam of cunning, all was calm, quiet, refined,
+gentle, and without apparent emotion in the countenance of the accused.
+
+“Timms!” repeated Dunscomb, slowly. “So _he_ has known of this, and I
+dare say has had an agency in bringing it about?”
+
+“As you say it is felony to aid a prisoner to escape, I can say neither
+yes nor no to this, Mr. Dunscomb, lest I betray an accomplice. I should
+rather think, however, that Mr. Timms is not a person to be easily
+caught in the meshes of the law.”
+
+Again the counsellor disliked the expression; though Mary Monson looked
+unusually pretty at that particular moment. He did not pause to analyze
+his feelings, notwithstanding, but rather sought to relieve his own
+curiosity, which had been a good deal aroused by the information just
+received.
+
+“As you have not hesitated to tell me of what you call your
+‘excursions,’ Miss Monson,” he continued, “perhaps you will so far
+extend your confidence as to let me know where you go?”
+
+“I can have no objection to that. Mr. Timms tells me the law cannot
+compel a counsel to betray his client’s secrets; and of course I am safe
+with you. Stop—I have a duty to perform that has been too long delayed.
+Gentlemen of your profession are entitled to their fees; and, as yet, I
+have been very remiss in this respect. Will you do me the favour, Mr.
+Dunscomb, to accept that, which you will see has been some time in
+readiness to be offered.”
+
+Dunscomb was too much of a professional man to feel any embarrassment at
+this act of justice; but he took the letter, broke the seal, even before
+his client’s eyes, and held up for examination a note for a thousand
+dollars. Prepared as he was by Timms’s account for a liberal reward,
+this large sum took him a good deal by surprise.
+
+“This is an unusual fee, Miss Monson!” he exclaimed; “one much more
+considerable than I should expect from you, were I working for
+remuneration, as in your case I certainly am not.”
+
+“Gentlemen of the law look for their reward, I believe, as much as
+others. We do not live in the times of chivalry, when gallant men
+assisted distressed damsels as a matter of honour; but in what has well
+been termed a ‘bank-note world.’”
+
+“I have no wish to set myself up above the fair practices of my
+profession, and am as ready to accept a fee as any man in Nassau-Street.
+Nevertheless, I took your case in hand with a very different motive. It
+would pain me to be obliged to work for a fee, on the present unhappy
+occasion.”
+
+Mary Monson looked grateful, and for a minute she seemed to be
+reflecting on some scheme by which she could devise a substitute for the
+old-fashioned mode of proceeding in a case of this sort.
+
+“You have a niece, Mr. Dunscomb,” she at length exclaimed—“as Marie
+Moulin informs me? A charming girl, and who is about to be married?”
+
+The lawyer assented by an inclination of the head, fastening his
+penetrating black eyes on the full, expressive, greyish-blue ones of his
+companion.
+
+“You intend to return to town this evening?” said Mary Monson, in
+continuation.
+
+“Such is my intention. I came here to-day to confer with you and Mr.
+Timms, on the subject of the trial, to see how matters stand on the
+spot, by personal observation, and to introduce to you one who feels the
+deepest interest in your welfare and desires most earnestly to seek your
+acquaintance.”
+
+The prisoner was now silent, interrogating with her singularly
+expressive eyes.
+
+“It is Anna Updyke, the step-daughter of my nearest friend, Dr. McBrain;
+and a very sincere, warm-hearted, and excellent girl.”
+
+“I have heard of her, too,” returned Mary Monson, with a smile so
+strange, that her counsel wished she had not given this demonstration of
+a feeling that seemed out of place, under all the circumstances. “They
+tell me she is a most charming girl, and that she is a very great
+favourite with your nephew, the young gentleman whom I have styled my
+legal vidette.”
+
+“Vidette! That is a singular term to be used by _you_!”
+
+“Oh! you will remember that I have been much in countries where such
+persons abound. I must have caught the word from some of the young
+soldiers of Europe. But, Mr. John Wilmeter is an admirer of the young
+lady you have named?”
+
+“I hope he is. I know of no one with whom I think he would be more
+likely to be happy.”
+
+Dunscomb spoke earnestly, and at such times his manner was singularly
+sincere and impressive. It was this appearance of feeling and nature
+that gave him the power he possessed over juries; and it may be said to
+have made no small part of his fortune. Mary Monson seemed to be
+surprised; and she fastened her remarkable eyes on the uncle, in a way
+that might have admitted of different interpretations. Her lips moved as
+if she spoke to herself; and the smile that succeeded was both mild and
+sad.
+
+“To be sure,” added the prisoner, slowly, “my information is not on the
+very best authority, coming, as it does, from a servant—but Marie Moulin
+is both discreet and observant.”
+
+“She is tolerably well qualified to speak of Anna Updyke, having seen
+her almost daily for the last two years. But, we are all surprised that
+_you_ should know anything of this young woman.”
+
+“I know her precisely as she is known to your niece and Miss Updyke—in
+other words, as a maid who is much esteemed by those she serves—but,”
+apparently wishing to change the discourse—“we are forgetting the
+purpose of your visit, all this time, Mr. Dunscomb. Do me the favour to
+write your address in town, and that of Dr. McBrain on this card, and we
+will proceed to business.”
+
+Dunscomb did as desired, when he opened on the details that were the
+object of his little journey. As had been the case in all his previous
+interviews with her, Mary Monson surprised him with the coolness with
+which she spoke of an issue that involved her own fate, for life or for
+death. While she carefully abstained from making any allusion to
+circumstances that might betray her previous history, she shrunk from no
+inquiry that bore on the acts of which she had been accused. Every
+question put by Dunscomb that related to the murders and the arson, was
+answered frankly and freely, there being no wish apparent to conceal the
+minutest circumstance. She made several exceedingly shrewd and useful
+suggestions on the subject of the approaching trial, pointing out
+defects in the testimony against her, and reasoning with singular
+acuteness on particular facts that were known to be much relied on by
+the prosecution. We shall not reveal these details any further in this
+stage of our narrative, for they will necessarily appear at length in
+our subsequent pages; but shall confine ourselves to a few of those
+remarks that may be better given at present.
+
+“I do not know, Mr. Dunscomb,” Mary Monson suddenly said, while the
+subject of her trial was yet under discussion, “that I have ever
+mentioned to you the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin were not happy
+together. One would think, from what was said at the time of the
+inquest, that they were a very affectionate and contented couple; but my
+own observation, during the short time I was under their roof, taught me
+better. The husband drank, and the wife was avaricious and very
+quarrelsome. I am afraid, sir, there are few really happy couples to be
+found on earth!”
+
+“If you knew McBrain better, you would not say that, my dear Miss
+Monson,” answered the counsellor with a sort of glee—“there’s a husband
+for you!—a fellow who is not only happy with _one_ wife, but who is
+happy with _three_, as he will tell you himself.”
+
+“Not all at the same time, I hope, sir?”
+
+Dunscomb did justice to his friend’s character, by relating how the
+matter really stood; after which he asked permission to introduce Anna
+Updyke. Mary Monson seemed startled at this request, and asked several
+questions, which induced her counsel to surmise that she was fearful of
+being recognised. Nor was Dunscomb pleased with all the expedients
+adopted by his client, in order to extract information from him. He
+thought they slightly indicated cunning, a quality that he might be said
+to abhor. Accustomed as he was to all the efforts of ingenuity in
+illustrating a principle or maintaining a proposition, he had always
+avoided everything like sophistry and falsehood. This weakness on the
+part of Mary Monson, however, was soon forgotten in the graceful manner
+in which she acquiesced in the wish of the stranger to be admitted. The
+permission was finally accorded, as if an honour were received, with the
+tact of a female and the easy dignity of a gentlewoman.
+
+Anna Updyke possessed a certain ardour of character that had more than
+once, given her prudent and sagacious mother uneasiness, and which
+sometimes led her into the commission of acts, always innocent in
+themselves, and perfectly under the restraint of principles, which the
+world would have been apt to regard as imprudent. Such, however, was far
+from being her reputation, her modesty and the diffidence with which she
+regarded herself, being amply sufficient to protect her from the common
+observation, even while most beset by the weakness named. Her love for
+John Wilmeter was so disinterested, or to herself so seemed to be, that
+she fancied she could even assist in bringing about his union with
+another woman, were that necessary to his happiness. She believed that
+this mysterious stranger was, to say the least, an object of intense
+interest with John, which soon made her an object of intense interest
+with herself; and each hour increased her desire to become acquainted
+with one so situated, friendless, accused, and seemingly suspended by a
+thread over an abyss, as she was. When she first made her proposal to
+Dunscomb to be permitted to visit his client, the wary and experienced
+counsellor strongly objected to the step. It was imprudent, could lead
+to no good, and might leave an impression unfavourable to Anna’s own
+character. But this advice was unheeded by a girl of Anna Updyke’s
+generous temperament. Quiet and gentle as she ordinarily appeared to be,
+there was a deep under-current of feeling and enthusiasm in her moral
+constitution, that bore her onward in any course which she considered to
+be right, with a total abnegation of self. This was a quality to lead to
+good or evil, as it might receive a direction; and happily nothing had
+yet occurred in her brief existence to carry her away towards the latter
+goal.
+
+Surprised at the steadiness and warmth with which his young friend
+persevered in her request, Dunscomb, after obtaining the permission of
+her mother, and promising to take good care of his charge, was permitted
+to convey Anna to Biberry, in the manner related.
+
+Now, that her wish was about to be gratified, Anna Updyke, like
+thousands of others who have been more impelled by impulses than
+governed by reason, shrank from the execution of her own purposes. But
+the generous ardour revived in her in time to save appearances; and she
+was admitted by well-meaning Mrs. Gott to the gallery of the prison,
+leaning on Dunscomb’s arm, much as she might have entered a
+drawing-room, in a regular morning call.
+
+The meeting between these two charming young women was frank and
+cordial, though slightly qualified by the forms of the world. A watchful
+and critical observer might have detected less of nature in Mary
+Monson’s manner than in that of her guest, even while the welcome she
+gave her visitor was not without cordiality and feeling. It is true that
+her courtesy was more elaborate and European, if one may use the
+expression, than it is usual to see in an American female, and her air
+was less ardent than that of Anna; but the last was highly struck with
+her countenance and general appearance, and, on the whole, not
+dissatisfied with her own reception.
+
+The power of sympathy and the force of affinities soon made themselves
+felt, as between these two youthful females. Anna regarded Mary as a
+stranger most grievously wronged; and forgetting all that there was
+which was questionable or mysterious in her situation, or remembering it
+only to feel the influence of its interest, while she submitted to a
+species of community of feeling with John Wilmeter, as she fancied, and
+soon got to be as much entranced with the stranger as seemed to be the
+fate of all who approached the circle of her acquaintance. On the other
+hand, Mary Monson felt a consolation and gratification in this visit to
+which she had long been a stranger. Good Mrs. Gott was kind-hearted and
+a woman, but she had no claim to the refinement and peculiar
+sensibilities of a lady; while Marie Moulin, discreet, respectful, even
+wise as she was in her own way, was, after all, nothing but an upper
+servant. The chasm between the cultivated and the uncultivated, the
+polished and the unpolished, is wide; and the accused fully appreciated
+the change, when one of her own class in life, habits, associations,
+and, if the reader will, prejudices, so unexpectedly appeared to
+sympathize with, and to console her. Under such circumstances, three or
+four hours made the two fast and deeply-interested friends, on their own
+accounts, to say nothing of the effect produced by the generous advances
+of one, and the perilous condition of the other.
+
+Dunscomb returned to town that evening, leaving Anna Updyke behind him,
+ostensibly under the care of Mrs. Gott. Democracy has been carried so
+far on the high road of ultraism in New York, as in very many interests
+to become the victim of its own expedients. Perhaps the people are never
+so far from exercising a healthful, or indeed, any authority at all, as
+when made to seem, by the expedients of demagogues, to possess an
+absolute control. It is necessary merely to bestow a power which it is
+impossible for the masses to wield with intelligence, in order to effect
+this little piece of legerdemain in politics, the quasi people in all
+such cases becoming the passive instruments in the hands of their
+leaders, who strengthen their own authority by this seeming support of
+the majority. In all cases, however, in which the agency of numbers can
+be felt, its force is made to prevail, the tendency necessarily being to
+bring down all representation to the level of the majority. The effect
+of the change has been pretty equally divided between good and evil. In
+many cases benefits have accrued to the community by the exercise of
+this direct popular control, while in probably quite as many the result
+has been exactly the reverse of that which was anticipated. In no one
+instance, we believe it will be generally admitted, has the departure
+from the old practice been less advantageous than in rendering the
+office of sheriff elective. Instead of being a leading and independent
+man, who has a pride in his position, and regards the character of his
+county as he does his own, this functionary has got to be, nine times in
+ten, a mere political manœuvrer, who seeks the place as a reward for
+party labours, and fills it very much for his personal benefit,
+conferring no dignity on it by his own position and character, lessening
+its authority by his want of the qualities calculated to increase it,
+and, in a good many instances, making it quite as difficult to wrest
+money from _his_ hands, as from those of the original debtor.
+
+It is a consequence of this state of things that the sheriff has quite
+lost all, or nearly all of the personal consideration that was once
+connected with his office; and has sunk, in most of the strictly rural
+counties, into a gaoler, and the head of the active bailiffs. His object
+is altogether money; and the profit connected with the keeping of the
+prisoners, now reduced almost entirely to felons, the accused, and
+persons committed for misdemeanors, is one of the inducements for
+aspiring to an office once so honourable.
+
+In this state of things, it is not at all surprising that Dunscomb was
+enabled to make such an arrangement with Mrs. Gott as would place Anna
+Updyke in a private room in the house attached to the gaol, and which
+formed the sheriff’s dwelling. The counsellor preferred leaving her with
+Mrs. Horton; but to this Anna herself objected, both because she had
+taken a strong dislike to the garrulous but shrewd landlady, and because
+it would have separated her too much from the person she had come
+especially to console and sympathize with.
+
+The arrangement made, Dunscomb, as has already been mentioned, took his
+departure for town, with the understanding that he was to return the
+succeeding week; the Circuit and Oyer and Terminer sitting on Monday;
+and the District Attorney, Mr. Garth, having given notice to her counsel
+that the indictment against Mary Monson would be certainly traversed the
+second day of the sitting, which would be on Tuesday.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XVI.
+
+ “Let her locks be the reddest that ever were seen,
+ And her eyes may be e’en any colour but green;
+ Be they light, gray, or black, their lustre and hue,
+ I swear I’ve no choice, only let her have two.”
+ _The Duenna._
+
+
+Two days after this, Dunscomb was in his library, late at night, holding
+a brief discourse with McBrain’s coachman, who has been already
+introduced to the reader. Some orders had been given to the last, in
+relation to another trip to Biberry, whither the master and our lawyer
+were to proceed next day. The man was an old and indulged servant, and
+often took great liberties in these conferences. In this respect the
+Americans of his class differ very little from the rest of their
+fellow-creatures, notwithstanding all that has been said and written to
+the contrary. They obey the impulses of their characters much as the
+rest of mankind, though not absolutely without some difference in
+manner.
+
+“I s’poses, ’Squire Dunscomb, that this is like to be the last journey
+that I and the doctor will have to take soon ag’in, in _that_ quarter,”
+coolly observed Stephen, when his master’s friend had told him the hour
+to be at the door, with the other preparations that would be necessary;
+“unless we should happen to be called in at the _post mortal_.”
+
+“_Post mortem_, you must mean, Hoof,” a slight smile flashing on the
+lawyer’s countenance, and as quickly disappearing. “So you consider it a
+settled thing that my client is to be found guilty?”
+
+“That’s what they say, sir; and things turn out, in this country, pretty
+much as they say aforehand. For my part, sir, I never quite liked the
+criminal’s looks.”
+
+“Her _looks_! I do not know where you would go to find a more lovely
+young woman, Stephen!”
+
+This was said with a vivacity and suddenness that startled the coachman
+a little. Even Dunscomb seemed surprised at his own animation, and had
+the grace to change colour. The fact was, that he too was feeling the
+influence of woman, youthful, lovely, spirited, refined, and surrounded
+with difficulties. This was the third of Mary Monson’s conquests since
+her arrest, if John Wilmeter’s wavering admiration could be placed in
+this category; viz., Timms, the nephew, and the counsellor himself.
+Neither was absolutely in love; but each and all submitted to an
+interest of an unusual degree in the person, character and fortunes of
+this unknown female. Timms, alone, had got so far as to contemplate a
+marriage; the idea having crossed his mind that it might be almost as
+useful as popularity, to become the husband of one possessed of so much
+money.
+
+“I’ll not deny her _good_ looks, ’Squire,” returned Stephen Hoof—or
+Stephen Huff, as he called himself—“but it’s her _bad_ looks that isn’t
+so much to my fancy. Vhy, sir, once the doctor had a horse that was
+agreeable enough to the eye, having a good colour and most of the
+p’ints, but who wasn’t no traveller, not a bit on’t. One that know’d the
+animal could see where the fault lay, the fetlock j’int being oncommon
+longish; and that’s what I call _good_ looks and _bad_ looks.”
+
+“You mean, Stephen,” said Dunscomb, who had regained all his _sang
+froid_, “that Mary Monson has a bad-looking ankle, I suppose, wherein I
+think you miserably mistaken. No matter; she will not have to travel
+under your lash very far. But, how is it with the reporters?—Do you see
+any more of your friend that asks so many questions?”
+
+“They be an axing set, ’Squire, if anybody can be so called,” returned
+Stephen, grinning. “Would you think it, sir?—one day when I was a comin’
+in from Timbully empty, one on ’em axed me for a ride! a chap as hadn’t
+his foot in a reg’lar private coach since he was born, a wantin’ to
+drive about in a wehicle as well known as Doctor McBrain’s best
+carriage! Them’s the sort of chaps that spreads all the reports that’s
+going up and down the land, they tell me.”
+
+“They do their share of it, Stephen; though there are enough to help
+them who do not openly belong to their corps. Well; what does your
+acquaintance want to know now?”
+
+“Oncommon curious, ’Squire, about the bones. He axed me more than forty
+questions; what we thought of them; and about their being male or female
+bones; and how we know’d; and a great many more sich matters. I answered
+him accordin’ to my abilities; and so he made an article on the subject,
+and has sent me the papers.”
+
+“An article! Concerning Mary Monson, and on your information?”
+
+“Sartain, sir; and the bones. Vhy they cut articles out of much narrower
+cloth, I can tell you, ’Squire. There’s the cooks, and chambermaids, and
+vaiters about town, none of vich can hold up their heads with a reg’lar,
+long-established physician’s coachman, who goes far ahead of even an
+omnibus driver in public estimation, as you must know, ’Squire—but such
+sort of folks furnish many an article for the papers now-a-days—yes, and
+articles that ladies and gentlemen read.”
+
+“That is certainly a singular source of useful knowledge—one must hope
+they are well-grounded, or they will soon cease to be ladies and
+gentlemen at all. Have you the paper about you, Stephen?”
+
+Hoof handed the lawyer a journal folded with a paragraph in view that
+was so much thumbed and dirtied, it was not very easy to read it.
+
+“We understand that the trial of Mary Monson, for the murder of Peter
+and Dorothy Goodwin,” said the ‘article,’ “will come off in the
+adjoining county of Dukes, at a very early day. Strong attempts have
+been made to make it appear that the skeletons found in the ruins of
+Goodwin’s dwelling, which our readers will remember was burned at the
+time of the murders, are not human bones; but, we have been at great
+pains to investigate this very material point, and have no hesitation in
+giving it as our profound conviction that it will be made to appear that
+these melancholy memorials are all that remain of the excellent couple
+who were so suddenly taken out of existence. We do not speak lightly on
+this subject, having gone to the fountain-head for our facts, as well as
+for our science.”
+
+“Hoof on McBrain!” muttered Dunscomb, arching his brows—“this is much of
+a piece with quite one-half of the knowledge that is poured into the
+popular mind, now-a-days. Thank you, Stephen; I will keep this paper,
+which may be of use at the trial.”
+
+“I thought our opinions was vorth something more than nothing, sir,”
+answered the gratified coachman—“a body doesn’t ride at all hours, day
+and night, year arter year, and come out where he started. I vishes you
+to keep that ’ere paper, ’Squire, a little carefully, for it may be
+wanted in the college where they reads all sorts of things, one of these
+days.”
+
+“It shall be cared for, my friend—I hear some one at the street-door
+bell.—It is late for a call; and I fear Peter has gone to bed. See who
+is there, and good night.”
+
+Stephen withdrew, the ringing being repeated a little impatiently, and
+was soon at the street-door. The fellow admitted the visiters, and went
+ruminating homeward, Dunscomb maintaining a very respectable reputation,
+in a bachelor point of view, for morals. As for the lawyer himself, he
+was in the act of reading a second time the precious opinion expressed
+in the journals, when the door of his library opened, a little
+hesitatingly it must be confessed, and two females stood on its
+threshold. Although his entirely unexpected visiters were so much
+muffled in shawls and veils it was not possible to distinguish even the
+outlines of their persons, Dunscomb fancied each was youthful and
+handsome, the instant he cast his eyes on them. The result showed how
+well he guessed.
+
+Throwing aside the garments that concealed their forms and faces, Mary
+Monson and Anna Updyke advanced into the room. The first was perfectly
+self-possessed and brilliantly handsome; while her companion, flushed
+with excitement and exercise, was not much behind her in this important
+particular. Dunscomb started, and fancied there was felony, even in his
+hospitality.
+
+“You know how difficult it is for me to travel by daylight,” commenced
+Mary Monson, in the most natural manner in the world; “that, and the
+distance we had to drive, must explain the unseasonableness of this
+visit. You told me once, yourself, that you are both a late and an early
+man, which encouraged me to venture. Mr. Timms has written me a letter
+which I have thought it might be well to show you. There it is; and when
+you have cast an eye over it, we will speak of its contents.”
+
+“Why, this is very much like a conditional proposal of marriage!” cried
+Dunscomb, dropping the hand that held the letter, as soon as he had read
+the first paragraph. “Conditional, so far as the result of your trial is
+concerned!”
+
+“I forgot the opening of the epistle, giving very little thought to its
+purport; though Mr. Timms has not written me a line lately that has not
+touched on this interesting subject. A marriage between him and me is so
+entirely out of the way of all the possibilities, that I look upon his
+advances as mere embellishment. I have answered him directly in the
+negative once, and that ought to satisfy any prudent person. They tell
+me no woman should marry a man she has once refused; and I shall plead
+this as a reason for continued obduracy.”
+
+This was said pleasantly, and without the least appearance of
+resentment; but in a way to show she regarded her attorney’s proposal as
+very much out of the beaten track. As for Dunscomb, he passed his hand
+over his brows, and read the rest of a pretty long letter with grave
+attention. The purely business part of this communication was much to
+the point; important, clearly put, and every way creditable to the
+writer. The lawyer read it attentively a second time, ere he once opened
+his mouth in comments.
+
+“And why is this shown to me?” he asked, a little vexed, as was seen in
+his manner. “I have told you it is felony to assist a prisoner in an
+attempt to escape.”
+
+“I have shown it to you, because I have not the remotest intention, Mr.
+Dunscomb, to attempt anything of the sort. I shall not quit my asylum so
+easily.”
+
+“Then why are you here, at this hour, with the certainty that most of
+the night must be passed on the road, if you mean to return to your
+prison ere the sun reappears?”
+
+“For air, exercise, and to show you this letter. I am often in town, but
+am compelled, for more reasons than you are acquainted with, to travel
+by night.”
+
+“May I ask where you obtain a vehicle to make these journies in?”
+
+“I use my own carriage, and trust to a very long-tried and most faithful
+domestic. I think Miss Updyke will say he drove us not only carefully,
+but with great speed. On that score, we have no grounds of complaint.
+But I am very much fatigued, and must ask permission to sleep for an
+hour. You have a drawing-room, I take it for granted, Mr. Dunscomb?”
+
+“My niece fancies she has two. Shall I put lights in one of them?”
+
+“By no means. Anna knows the house as well as she does her mother’s, and
+will do the honours. On no account let Miss Wilmeter be disturbed. I am
+a little afraid of meeting _her_, since we have practised a piece of
+treachery touching Marie Moulin. But, no matter; one hour on a sofa, in
+a dark room, is all I ask. That will bring us to midnight, when the
+carriage will again be at the door. You wish to see your mother, my
+dear, and here is a safe and very suitable attendant to accompany you to
+her house and back again.”
+
+All this was said pleasantly, but with a singular air of authority, as
+if this mysterious being were accustomed to plan out and direct the
+movements of others. She had her way. In a minute or two she was
+stretched on a sofa, covered with a shawl, the door was closed on her,
+and Dunscomb was on his way to Mrs. McBrain’s residence, which was at
+some distance from his own, with Anna leaning on his arm.
+
+“Of course, my dear,” said the lawyer, as he and his beautiful companion
+left his own door at that late hour of the night, “we shall see no more
+of Mary Monson?”
+
+“Not see her again! I should be very, very sorry to think that, sir!”
+
+“She is no simpleton, and means to take Timms’s advice. That fellow has
+written a strong letter, in no expectation of its being seen, I fancy,
+in which he points out a new source of danger; and plainly advises his
+client to abscond. I can see the infatuation of love in this; for the
+letter, if produced, would bring him into great trouble.”
+
+“And you suppose, sir, that Mary Monson intends to follow this advice?”
+
+“Beyond a question. She is not only a very clever, but she is a very
+cunning woman. This last quality is one that I admire in her the least.
+I should be half in love with her myself”—This was exactly the state of
+the counsellor’s feelings towards his client, in spite of his bravado
+and affected discernment; a woman’s charms often overshadowing a
+philosophy that is deeper even than his—“but for this very trait, which
+I find little to my taste. I take it for granted you are sent home to be
+put under your mother’s care, where you properly belong; and I am got
+out of the way to save me from the pains and penalties of an indictment
+for felony.”
+
+“I think you do not understand Mary Monson, uncle Tom”—so Anna had long
+called her friend’s relative, as it might be in anticipation of the time
+when the appellation would be correct—“She is not the sort of person to
+do as you suggest; but would rather make it a point of honour to remain,
+and face any accusation whatever.”
+
+“She must have nerves of steel to confront justice in a case like hers,
+and in the present state of public feeling in Duke’s. Justice is a very
+pretty thing to talk about, my dear; but we old practitioners know that
+it is little more, in human hands, than the manipulations of human
+passions. Of late years, the outsiders—outside barbarians they might
+very properly be termed—have almost as much to do with the result of any
+warmly-contested suit, as the law and evidence. ‘Who is on the jury?’ is
+the first question asked now-a-days; not what are the facts. I have told
+all this, very plainly, to Mary Monson——”
+
+“To induce her to fly?” asked Anna, prettily, and a little smartly.
+
+“Not so much that, as to induce her to consent to an application for
+delay. The judges of this country are so much over-worked, so little
+paid, and usually are so necessitous, that almost any application for
+delay is granted. Business at chambers is sadly neglected; for that is
+done in a corner, and does not address itself to the public eye, or seek
+public eulogiums; but he is thought the cleverest fellow who will
+soonest sweep out a crowded calendar. Causes are tried by tallow candles
+until midnight, with half the jurors asleep; and hard-working men,
+accustomed to be asleep by eight each night, are expected to keep their
+thoughts and minds active in the face of all these obstacles.”
+
+“Do you tell me this, uncle Tom, in the expectation that I am to
+understand it?”
+
+“I beg your pardon, child; but my heart is full of the failing justice
+of the land. We shout hosannas in praise of the institutions, while we
+shut our eyes to the gravest consequences that are fast undermining us
+in the most important of all our interests. But here we are already; I
+had no notion we had walked so fast. Yes, there is papa McBrain’s
+one-horse vehicle, well emptied of its contents, I hope, by a hard day’s
+work.”
+
+“A doctor’s life must be so laborious!” exclaimed the pretty Anna. “I
+think nothing could tempt me to marry a physician.”
+
+“It is well a certain lady of our acquaintance was not of your way of
+thinking,” returned Dunscomb, laughing; for his good humour always
+returned when he could give his friend a rub on his matrimonial
+propensities, “else would McBrain have been troubled to get his last and
+best. Never mind, my dear; he is a good-natured fellow, and will make a
+very kind papa.”
+
+Anna made no reply, but rang the bell a little pettishly; for no child
+likes to have a mother married a second time, there being much greater
+toleration for fathers, and asked her companion in. As the wife of a
+physician in full practice, the bride had already changed many of her
+long-cherished habits. In this respect, however, she did no more than
+follow the fortunes of woman, who so cheerfully makes any sacrifice in
+behalf of him she loves. If men were only one-half as disinterested, as
+self-denying, and as true as the other sex, in all that relates to the
+affections, what a blessed state would that of matrimony be! Still,
+there are erring, and selfish, and domineering, and capricious, vain,
+heartless and self-willed females, whom nature never intended for
+married life; and who are guilty of a species of profanation, when they
+stand up and vow to love, honour and obey their husbands. Many of these
+disregard their solemn pledges, made at the altar, and under the
+immediate invocation of the Deity, as they would disregard a promise
+made in jest, and think no more of the duties and offices that are so
+peculiarly the province of their sex, than of the passing and idle
+promises of vanity. But, if such women exist, and that they do our daily
+experience proves, they are as exceptions to the great law of female
+faith, which is tenderness and truth. They are not women in character,
+whatever they may be in appearance; but creatures in the guise of a sex
+that they discredit and caricature.
+
+Mrs. McBrain was not a person of the disposition just described. She was
+gentle and good, and bid fair to make the evening of her second
+husband’s days very happy. Sooth to say, she was a good deal in love,
+notwithstanding her time of life, and the still more mature years of the
+bridegroom; and had been so much occupied with the duties and cares that
+belonged to her recent change of condition, as to be a little forgetful
+of her daughter. At no other period of their joint lives would she have
+permitted this beloved child to be absent from her, under such
+circumstances, without greater care for her safety and comforts; but
+there is a honey-week, as well as a honey-moon; and the intenseness of
+its feelings might very well disturb the ordinary round of even maternal
+duties. Glad enough, however, was she now to see her daughter; when
+Anna, blooming, and smiling, and blushing, flew into her mother’s arms.
+
+“There she is, widow—Mrs. Updyke—I beg pardon—married woman, and Mrs.
+McBrain,” cried Dunscomb—“Ned is such an uneasy fellow, he keeps all his
+friends in a fever with his emotions, and love, and matrimony; and that
+just suits him, as he has only to administer a pill and set all right
+again. But there she is, safe and _unmarried_, thank heaven; which is
+always a sort of consolation to me. She’s back again, and you will do
+well to keep her, until my nephew, Jack, comes to ask permission to
+carry her off, for good and all.”
+
+Anna blushed more deeply than ever, while the mother smiled and embraced
+her child. Then succeeded questions and answers, until Mrs. McBrain had
+heard the whole story of her daughter’s intercourse with Mary Monson, so
+far as it has been made known to the reader. Beyond that, Anna did not
+think herself authorized to go; or, if she made any revelation, it would
+be premature for us to repeat it.
+
+“Here we are, all liable to be indicted for felony,” cried Dunscomb, as
+soon as the young lady had told her tale. “Timms will be hanged, in
+place of his client; and we three will have cells at Sing Sing, as
+accessories before the act. Yes, my dear bride, you are what the law
+terms a “particeps criminis,” and may look out for the sheriff before
+you are a week older.”
+
+“And why all this, Mr. Dunscomb?” demanded the half-amused,
+half-frightened Mrs. McBrain.
+
+“For aiding and abetting a prisoner in breaking gaol. Mary Monson is
+off, beyond a question. She lay down in Sarah’s drawing-room, pretending
+to be wearied, ten minutes since; and has no doubt got through with her
+nap already, and is on her way to Canada, or Texas, or California, or
+some other out-of-the-way country; Cuba, for aught I know.”
+
+“Is this so, think you, Anna?”
+
+“I do not, mamma. So far from believing Mary Monson to be flying to any
+out-of-the-way place, I have no doubt that we shall find her fast asleep
+on Mr. Dunscomb’s sofa.”
+
+“_Uncle_ Dunscomb’s sofa, if you please, young lady.”
+
+“No, sir; I shall call you uncle no longer,” answered Anna, blushing
+scarlet—“until—until——”
+
+“You have a legal claim to the use of the word. Well, that will come in
+due time, I trust; if not, it shall be my care to see you have a title
+to a still dearer appellation. There, widow—Mrs. McBrain, I mean—I think
+that will do. But, seriously, child, you cannot imagine that Mary Monson
+means ever to return to her prison, there to be tried for life?”
+
+“If there is faith in woman, she does, sir; else would I not have
+exposed myself to the risk of accompanying her.”
+
+“In what manner did you come to town, Anna?” asked the anxious mother.
+“Are you not now at the mercy of some driver of a hackney-coach, or of
+some public cabman?”
+
+“I understand that the carriage which was in waiting for us, half a mile
+from Biberry, is Mrs. Monson’s——”
+
+“Mrs.!” interrupted Dunscomb—“Is she, then, a married woman?”
+
+Anna looked down, trembled, and was conscious of having betrayed a
+secret. So very precious to herself had been the communication of Marie
+Moulin on this point, that it was ever uppermost in her thoughts; and it
+had now escaped her under an impulse she could not control. It was too
+late, however, to retreat; and a moment’s reflection told her it would
+every way be better to tell all she knew, on this one point, at least.
+
+This was soon done; for even Marie Moulin’s means of information were
+somewhat limited. This Swiss had formerly known the prisoner by another
+name; though what name, she would not reveal. This was in Europe, where
+Marie had actually passed three years in this mysterious person’s
+employment. Marie had even come to America, in consequence of this
+connection, at the death of her own mother; but, unable to find her
+former mistress, had taken service with Sarah Wilmeter. Mary Monson was
+single and unbetrothed when she left Europe. Such was Marie Moulin’s
+statement. But it was understood she was now married; though to whom,
+she could not say. If Anna Updyke knew more than this, she did not
+reveal it at that interview.
+
+“Ah! Here is another case of a wife’s elopement from her husband,”
+interrupted Dunscomb, as soon as Anna reached this point in her
+narration; “and I dare say something or other will be found in this
+wretched Code to uphold her in her disobedience. You have done well to
+marry, Mrs. McBrain; for, according to the modern opinions in these
+matters, instead of providing yourself with a lord and master, you have
+only engaged an upper-servant.”
+
+“No true-hearted woman can ever look upon her husband in so degrading a
+light,” answered the bride, with spirit.
+
+“That will do for three days; but wait to the end of three years. There
+are runaway wives enough, at this moment, roaming up and down the land,
+setting the laws of God and man at defiance, and jingling their purses,
+when they happen to have money, under their lawful husbands’ noses; ay,
+enough to set up a three-tailed bashaw! But this damnable Code will
+uphold them, in some shape or other, my life for it. One can’t endure
+her husband because he smokes; another finds fault with his not going to
+church but once a day; another quarrels with him for going three times;
+another says he has too much dinner-company; and another protests she
+can’t get a male friend inside of her house. All these ladies, forgetful
+as they are of their highest earthly duties, forgetful as they are of
+woman’s very nature, are the models of divine virtues, and lay claim to
+the sympathies of mankind. They get those of fools; but prudent and
+reflecting men shake their heads at such wandering deisses.”
+
+“You are severe on us women, Mr. Dunscomb,” said the bride.
+
+“Not on you, my dear Mrs. McBrain—never a syllable on _you_. But go on,
+child; I have had the case of one of these vagrant wives in my hands,
+and know how mistaken has been the disposition to pity her. Men lean to
+the woman’s side; but the frequency of the abuse is beginning to open
+the eyes of the public. Go on, Anna dear, and let us hear it all—or all
+you have to tell us.”
+
+Very little remained to be related. Marie Moulin, herself, knew very
+little of that which had occurred since her separation from her present
+mistress in France. She did make one statement, however, that Anna had
+deemed very important; but which she felt bound to keep as a secret, in
+consequence of the injunctions received from the Swiss.
+
+“I should have a good deal to say about this affair,” observed Dunscomb,
+when his beautiful companion was done, “did I believe that we shall find
+Mary Monson on our return to my house. In that case, I should say to
+you, my dear widow—Mrs. McBrain, I mean—the devil take that fellow Ned,
+he’ll have half the women in town bearing his name before he is
+done—Well, Heaven be praised! he can neither marry _me_, nor give me a
+step-father, let him do his very best. There’s comfort in that
+consideration, at any rate.”
+
+“You were about to tell us what you would do,” put in the bride,
+slightly vexed, yet too well assured of the counsellor’s attachment to
+her husband to feel angry—“you must know how much value we all give to
+your advice.”
+
+“I was about to say that Anna should not return to this mysterious
+convict—no, she is not _yet_ convicted, but she is indicted, and that is
+something—but return she should not, were there the least chance of our
+finding her, on our return home. Let her go, then, and satisfy her
+curiosity, and pass the night with Sarah, who must be through with her
+first nap by this time.”
+
+Anna urged her mother to consent to this arrangement, putting forward
+her engagement with Mary Monson, not to desert her. McBrain driving to
+the door, from paying his last visit that night, his wife gave her
+assent to the proposition; the tenderest mother occasionally permitting
+another and more powerful feeling to usurp the place of maternal care.
+Mrs. McBrain, it must be admitted, thought more of the bridegroom, sixty
+as he was, than of her charming daughter; nor was she yet quite free
+from the awkwardness that ever accompanies a new connection of this
+nature when there are grown-up children; more especially on the part of
+the female. Then Anna had communicated to her mother a most material
+circumstance, which it does not suit our present purpose to reveal.
+
+“Now for a dozen pair of gloves that we do not find Mary Monson,” said
+the lawyer, as he walked smartly towards his own residence, with Anna
+Updyke under his arm.
+
+“Done!” cried the young lady—“and you shall _pay_ if you lose.”
+
+“As bound in honour. Peter”—the grey-headed black who answered the
+summons to the door—“will be glad enough to see us; for the old fellow
+is not accustomed to let his young rogue of a master in at midnight,
+with a charming young woman under his arm.”
+
+Anna Updyke was right. Mary Monson was in a deep sleep on the sofa. So
+profound was her rest, there was a hesitation about disturbing her;
+though twelve, the hour set for the return of the carriage to Biberry,
+was near. For a few minutes Dunscomb conversed with his agreeable
+companion in his own library.
+
+“If Jack knew of your being in the house, he would never forgive my not
+having him called.”
+
+“I shall have plenty of occasions for seeing Jack,” returned the young
+lady, colouring. “You know how assiduous he is in this cause, and how
+devoted he is to the prisoner.”
+
+“Do not run away with any such notion, child; Jack is yours, heart and
+soul.”
+
+“Hist—there is the carriage; Mary must be called.”
+
+Away went Anna, laughing, blushing, but with tears in her eyes. In a
+minute Mary Monson made her appearance, somewhat refreshed and calmed by
+her short nap.
+
+“Make no excuse for waking me, Anna,” said this unaccountable woman. “We
+can both sleep on the road. The carriage is as easy as a cradle; and,
+luckily, the roads are quite good.”
+
+“Still they lead to a prison, Mrs. Monson!”
+
+The prisoner smiled, and seemed to be lost in thought. It was the first
+time any of her new acquaintances had ever addressed her as a married
+woman; though Marie Moulin, with the exception of her first exclamation
+at their recent meeting, had invariably used the appellation of Madame.
+All this, however, was soon forgotten in the leave-taking. Dunscomb
+thought he had seldom seen a female of higher tone of manners, or
+greater personal charms, than this singular and mysterious young woman
+appeared to be, as she curtsied her adieu.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XVII.
+
+ “What then avail impeachments, or the law’s
+ Severest condemnation while the queen
+ May snatch him from the uplifted hand of justice?”
+ _Earl of Essex._
+
+
+Perhaps the most certain proof that any people can give of a high moral
+condition, is in the administration of justice. Absolute infallibility
+is unattainable to men; but there are wide chasms in right and wrong,
+between the legal justice of one state of society and that of another.
+As the descendants of Englishmen, we in this country are apt to ascribe
+a higher tone of purity to the courts of the mother country, than to
+those of any other European nation. In this we may be right, without
+inferring the necessity of believing that even the ermine of England is
+spotless; for it can never be forgotten that Bacon and Jeffries once
+filled her highest judicial seats, to say nothing of many others, whose
+abuses of their trusts have doubtless been lost in their comparative
+obscurity. Passing from the parent to its offspring, the condition of
+American justice, so far as it is dependent on the bench, is a profound
+moral anomaly. It would seem that every known expedient of man has been
+resorted to, to render it corrupt, feeble, and ignorant; yet he would be
+a hardy, not to say an audacious commentator, who should presume to
+affirm that it is not entitled to stand in the very foremost ranks of
+human integrity.
+
+Ill paid, without retiring pensions, with nothing to expect in the way
+of family and hereditary honours and dignities; with little, in short,
+either in possession or in prospect, to give any particular inducement
+to be honest, it is certain that, as a whole, the judges of this great
+republic may lay claim to be classed among the most upright of which
+history furnishes any account. Unhappily, popular caprice, and popular
+ignorance, have been brought to bear on the selection of the
+magistrates, of late; and it is easy to predict the result, which, like
+that on the militia, is soon to pull down even this all-important
+machinery of society to the level of the common mind.
+
+Not only have the obvious and well-earned inducements to keep men
+honest—competence, honours, and security in office—been recklessly
+thrown away by the open hand of popular delusion, but all the minor
+expedients by which those who cannot think might be made to feel, have
+been laid aside, leaving the machinery of justice as naked as the hand.
+Although the colonial system was never elaborated in these last
+particulars, there were some of its useful and respectable remains, down
+as late as the commencement of the present century. The sheriff appeared
+with his sword, the judge was escorted to and from the court-house to
+his private dwelling with some show of attention and respect, leaving a
+salutary impression of authority on the ordinary observer. All this has
+disappeared. The judge slips into the county town almost unknown; lives
+at an inn amid a crowd of lawyers, witnesses, suitors, jurors and
+horse-shedders, as Timms calls them; finds his way to the bench as best
+he may; and seems to think that the more work he can do in the shortest
+time is the one great purpose of his appointment. Nevertheless, these
+men, _as yet_, are surprisingly incorrupt and intelligent. How long it
+will remain so, no one can predict; if it be for a human life, however,
+the working of the problem will demonstrate the fallibility of every
+appreciation of human motives. One bad consequence of the depreciation
+of the office of a magistrate, however, has long been apparent, in the
+lessening of the influence of the judge on the juries; the power that
+alone renders the latter institution even tolerable. This is putting an
+irresponsible, usually an ignorant, and often a corrupt arbiter, in the
+judgment-seat, in lieu of the man of high qualities for which it was
+alone intended.
+
+The circuit and oyer and terminer for Duke’s presented nothing novel in
+its bench, its bar, its jurors, and we might add its witnesses. The
+first was a cool-headed, dispassionate man, with a very respectable
+amount of legal learning and experience, and a perfectly fair character.
+No one suspected him of acting wrong from evil motives; and when he did
+err, it was ordinarily from the pressure of business; though,
+occasionally, he was mistaken, because the books could not foresee every
+possible phase of a case. The bar was composed of plain, hard-working
+men, materially above the level of Timms, except in connection with
+mother-wit; better educated, better mannered, and, as a whole, of
+materially higher origin; though, as a body, neither profoundly learned
+nor of very refined deportment. Nevertheless, these persons had a very
+fair portion of all the better qualities of the northern professional
+men. They were shrewd, quick in the application of their acquired
+knowledge, ready in their natural resources, and had that general
+aptitude for affairs that probably is the fruit of a practice that
+includes all the different branches of the profession. Here and there
+was a usurer and extortioner among them; a fellow who disgraced his
+calling by running up unnecessary bills of cost, by evading the penal
+statutes passed to prevent abuses of this nature, and by cunning
+attempts to obtain more for the use of his money than the law
+sanctioned. But such was not the general character of the Duke’s county
+bar, which was rather to be censured for winking at irregular
+proceedings out of doors, for brow-beating witnesses, and for regarding
+the end so intensely as not always to be particular in reference to the
+means, than for such gross and positively illegal and oppressive
+measures as those just mentioned. As for the jurors, they were just what
+that ancient institution might be supposed to be, in a country where so
+many of the body of the people are liable to be summoned. An unusually
+large proportion of these men, when all the circumstances are
+considered, were perhaps as fit to be thus employed as could be obtained
+from the body of the community of any country on earth; but a very
+serious number were altogether unsuited to perform the delicate duties
+of their station. Fortunately, the ignorant are very apt to be
+influenced by the more intelligent, in cases of this nature; and by this
+exercise of a very natural power, less injustice is committed than might
+otherwise occur. Here, however, is the opening for the “horse-shedding”
+and “pillowing,” of which Timms has spoken, and of which so much use is
+made around every country court-house in the state. This is the crying
+evil of the times; and, taken in connection with the enormous abuse
+which is rendering a competition in news a regular, money-getting
+occupation, one that threatens to set at defiance all laws, principles
+and facts.
+
+A word remains to be said of the witnesses. Perhaps the rarest thing
+connected with the administration of justice all over the world, is an
+intelligent, perfectly impartial, clear-headed, discriminating witness;
+one who distinctly knows all he says, fully appreciates the effect of
+his words on the jury, and who has the disposition to submit what he
+knows solely to the law and the evidence. Men of experience are of
+opinion that an oath usually extracts the truth. We think so too; but it
+is truth as the witness understands it; facts as he has seen them; and
+opinions that, unconsciously to himself, have been warped by reports,
+sneers and malice. In a country of popular sway like this, there is not
+one man in a thousand, probably, who has sufficient independence of
+mind, or sufficient moral courage, to fancy he has seen even a fact, if
+it be of importance, differently from what the body of the community has
+seen it; and nothing is more common than to find witnesses colouring
+their testimony, lessening its force by feeble statements, or altogether
+abandoning the truth, under this pressure from without, in cases of a
+nature and magnitude to awake a strong popular feeling. It is by no
+means uncommon, indeed, to persuade one class of men, by means of this
+influence, that they did not see that which actually occurred before
+their eyes, or that they did see that which never had an existence.
+
+Under no circumstances do men congregate with less meritorious motives
+than in meeting in and around a court of justice. The object is victory,
+and the means of obtaining it will not always bear the light. The
+approaching Circuit and Oyer and Terminer of Duke’s was no exception to
+the rule; a crowd of evil passions, of sinister practices, and of
+plausible pretences, being arrayed against justice and the law, in
+two-thirds of the causes on the calendar. Then it was that Timms and
+saucy Williams, or Dick Williams, as he was familiarly termed by his
+associates, came out in their strength, playing off against each other
+the out-door practices of the profession. The first indication that the
+former now got of the very serious character of the struggle that was
+about to take place between them, was in the extraordinary civility of
+saucy Williams when they met in the bar-room of the inn they each
+frequented, and which had long been the arena of their antagonistical
+wit and practices.
+
+“I never saw you look better, Timms,” said Williams, in the most cordial
+manner imaginable; “on the whole, I do not remember to have ever seen
+you looking so well. You grow younger instead of older, every day of
+your life. By the way, do you intend to move on Butterfield against Town
+this circuit?”
+
+“I should be glad to do it, if you are ready. Cross-notices have been
+given, you know.”
+
+Williams knew this very well; and he also knew that it had been done to
+entitle the respective parties to costs, in the event of anything
+occurring to give either side an advantage; the cause being one of those
+nuts out of which practitioners are very apt to extract the whole of the
+kernel before they are done with it.
+
+“Yes, I am aware of that, and I believe we are quite ready. I see that
+Mr. Town is here, and I observe several of his witnesses; but I have so
+much business, I have no wish to try a long slander cause; words spoken
+in heat, and never thought of again, but to make a profit of them.”
+
+“You are employed against us in the murder case, I hear?”
+
+“I rather think the friends of the deceased so regard it; but I have
+scarcely had time to look at the testimony before the coroner”—This was
+a deliberate mystification, and Timms perfectly understood it as such,
+well knowing that the other had given the out-door work of the case
+nearly all of his time for the last fortnight—“and I don’t like to move
+in one of these big matters without knowing what I am about. Your senior
+counsel has not yet arrived from town, I believe?”
+
+“He cannot be here until Wednesday, having to argue a great insurance
+case before the Superior Court to-day and to-morrow.”
+
+This conversation occurred after the grand jury had been charged, the
+petit jurors sworn, and the judge had heard several motions for
+correcting the calendar, laying causes over, &c. &c. Two hours later,
+the District Attorney being absent in his room, engaged with the grand
+jury, Williams arose, and addressed the court, which had just called the
+first civil cause on the calendar.
+
+“May it please the court,” he said, coolly, but with the grave aspect of
+a man who felt he was dealing with a very serious matter—“there is a
+capital indictment depending, a case of arson and murder, which it is
+the intention of the State to call on at once.”
+
+The judge looked still more grave than the counsel, and it was easy to
+see that he deeply regretted it should fall to his lot to try such an
+issue. He leaned forward, with an elbow on the very primitive sort of
+desk with which he was furnished by the public, indented it with the
+point of his knife, and appeared to be passing in review such of the
+circumstances of this important case as he had become acquainted with,
+judicially. We say ‘judicially;’ for it is not an easy thing for either
+judge, counsel, or jurors, in the state of society that now exists, to
+keep distinctly in their minds that which has been obtained under legal
+evidence, from that which floats about the community on the thousand
+tongues of rumour—fact from fiction. Nevertheless, the respectable
+magistrate whose misfortune it was to preside on this very serious
+occasion, was a man to perform all his duty to the point where public
+opinion or popular clamour is encountered. The last is a bug-bear that
+few have moral courage to face; and the evil consequences are visible,
+hourly, daily, almost incessantly, in most of the interests of life.
+This popular feeling is the great moving lever of the republic; the
+wronged being placed beneath the fulcrum, while the outer arm of the
+engine is loaded with numbers. Thus it is that we see the oldest
+families among us quietly robbed of their estates, after generations of
+possession; the honest man proscribed; the knave and demagogue deified;
+mediocrity advanced to high places; and talents and capacity held in
+abeyance, if not actually trampled under foot. Let the truth be said:
+these are evils to which each year gives additional force, until the
+tyranny of the majority has taken a form and combination which,
+unchecked, must speedily place every personal right at the mercy of
+plausible, but wrong-doing, popular combinations.
+
+“Has the prisoner been arraigned?” asked the judge. “I remember nothing
+of the sort.”
+
+“No, your honour,” answered Timms, now rising for the first time in the
+discussion, and looking about him as if to scan the crowd for witnesses.
+“The prosecution does not yet know the plea we shall put in.”
+
+“You are retained for the prisoner, Mr. Timms?”
+
+“Yes, sir; I appear in her behalf. But Mr. Dunscomb is also retained,
+and will be engaged in the New York Superior Court until Wednesday, in
+an insurance case of great magnitude.”
+
+“No insurance case can be of the magnitude of a trial for life,”
+returned Williams. “The justice of the State must be vindicated, and the
+person of the citizen protected.”
+
+This sounded well, and it caused many a head in the crowd, which
+contained both witnesses and jurors, to nod with approbation. It is
+true, that every thoughtful and observant man must have had many
+occasions to observe how fallacious such a declaration is, in truth; but
+it sounded well, and the ears of the multitude are always open to
+flattery.
+
+“We have no wish to interfere with the justice of the State, or with the
+protection of the citizen,” answered Timms, looking round to note the
+effect of his words—“our object is to defend the innocent; and the great
+and powerful community of New York will find more pleasure in seeing an
+accused acquitted than in seeing fifty criminals condemned.”
+
+This sentiment sounded quite as well as that of Williams’s, and heads
+were again nodded in approbation. It told particularly well in a
+paragraph of a newspaper that Timms had engaged to publish what he
+considered his best remarks.
+
+“It seems to me, gentlemen,” interposed the judge, who understood the
+meaning of these _ad captandum_ remarks perfectly well, “that your
+conversation is premature at least, if not altogether improper. Nothing
+of this nature should be said until the prisoner has been arraigned.”
+
+“I submit, your honour, and acknowledge the justice of the reproof,”
+answered Williams. “I now move the court, on behalf of the District
+Attorney, that Mary Monson, who stands indicted for murder and arson,
+_be_ arraigned, and her pleas entered——”
+
+“I could wish this step might be delayed until I can hear from the
+leading counsel for the defence,” objected Timms, “which must now occur
+in the course of a very few hours.”
+
+“I perceive that the prisoner is a female,” said the judge, in a tone of
+regret.
+
+“Yes, your honour; she is, and young and handsome, they tell me,”
+answered Williams; “for I have never been able to get a sight of her.
+She is too much of a great lady to be seen at a grate, by all I can
+learn of her and her proceedings. Plays on the harp, sir; has a French
+_valet de chambre_, or something of that sort——”
+
+“This is all wrong, Mr. Williams, and must be checked,” again interposed
+the judge, though very mildly; for, while his experience taught him that
+the object of such remarks was to create prejudice, and his conscience
+prompted him to put an end to a proceeding so unrighteous, he stood in
+so much awe of this particular counsel, who had half a dozen presses at
+his command, that it required a strong inducement to bring him out as he
+ought to be, in opposition to any of his more decided movements. As for
+the community, with the best intentions as a whole, it stood passive
+under this gross wrong. What ‘is everybody’s business’ is literally
+‘nobody’s business,’ when the public virtue is the great moving power;
+the upright preferring their ease to everything else, and the
+ill-disposed manifesting the ceaseless activity of the wicked. All the
+ancient barriers to this species of injustice, which have been erected
+by the gathered wisdom of our fathers and the experience of ages, have
+been thrown down by the illusions of a seeming liberty, and the whole
+machinery of justice is left very much at the mercy of an outside public
+opinion, which, in itself, is wielded by a few of the worst men in the
+country. These are sober truths, as a close examination will show to any
+one who may choose to enter into the investigation of the ungrateful
+subject. It is not what is _said_, we very well know; but it is what is
+_done_.
+
+Williams received the mild rebuke of the judge like one who felt his
+position; paying very little respect to its spirit or its letter. He
+knew his own power, and understood perfectly well that this particular
+magistrate was soon to run for a new term of office, and might be dealt
+with more freely on that account.
+
+“I know it is very wrong, your honour—very wrong”—rejoined the wily
+counsel to what had been said—“so wrong, that I regard it as an insult
+to the State. When a person is capitally indicted, man or woman, it is
+his or her bounden duty to put all overboard, that there may be no
+secrets. The harp was once a sacred instrument, and it is highly
+improper to introduce it into our gaols and criminals’ cells——”
+
+“There is no criminal as yet—no crime can be established without proof,
+and the verdict of twelve good men and true,” interrupted Timms—“I
+object, therefore, to the learned counsel’s remarks, and——”
+
+“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” put in the judge, a little more pointedly than
+in his former rebuke—“this is all wrong, I repeat.”
+
+“You perceive, my brother Timms,” rejoined the indomitable Williams,
+“the court is altogether against you. This is not a country of lords and
+ladies, fiddles and harps, but of the _people_; and when the people find
+a bill for a capital offence, capital care should be taken not to give
+more offence.”
+
+Williams had provided himself with a set of supporters that are common
+enough in the courts, whose business it was to grin, and sneer, and
+smile, and look knowing at particular hits of the counsel, and otherwise
+to back up his wit, and humour, and logic, by the agency of sympathy.
+This expedient is getting to be quite common, and is constantly
+practised in suits that relate, in any manner, to politics or political
+men. It is not so common, certainly, in trials for life; though it may
+be, and has been, used with effect, even on such serious occasions. The
+influence of these wily demonstrations, which are made to have the
+appearance of public opinion, is very great on the credulous and
+ignorant; men thus narrowly gifted invariably looking around them to
+find support in the common mind.
+
+The hits of Williams told, to Timms’s great annoyance; nor did he know
+exactly how to parry them. Had he been the assailant himself, he could
+have wielded the weapons of his antagonist with equal skill; but his
+dexterity was very much confined to the offensive in cases of this
+nature; for he perfectly comprehended all the prejudices on which it was
+necessary to act, while he possessed but a very narrow knowledge of the
+means of correcting them. Nevertheless, it would not do to let the
+prosecution close the business of the day with so much of the air of
+triumph, and the indomitable attorney made another effort to place his
+client more favourably before the public eye.
+
+“The harp is a most religious instrument,” he coolly observed, “and it
+has no relation to the violin, or any light and frivolous piece of
+music. David used it as the instrument of praise, and why should not a
+person who stands charged——”
+
+“I have told you, gentlemen, that all this is irregular, and cannot be
+permitted,” cried the judge, with a little more of the appearance of
+firmness than he had yet exhibited.
+
+The truth was, that he stood less in fear of Timms than of Williams; the
+connection of the last with the reporters being known to be much the
+most extensive. But Timms knew his man, and understood very well what
+the committal of counsel had got to be, under the loose notions of
+liberty that have grown up in the country within the last twenty years.
+Time was, and that at no remote period, when the lawyer who had been
+thus treated for indecorum at the bar would have been a disgraced man,
+and would have appealed in vain to the community for sympathy; little or
+none would he have received. Men then understood that the law was their
+master, established by themselves, and was to be respected accordingly.
+But that feeling is in a great measure extinct. Liberty is every hour
+getting to be more and more personal; its concentration consisting in
+rendering every man his own legislator, his own judge, and his own
+juror. It is monarchical and aristocratic, and all that is vile and
+dangerous, to see power exercised by any but the people; those whom the
+constitution and the laws have set apart expressly to discharge a
+delegated authority being obliged, by clamours sustained by all the arts
+of cupidity and fraud, to defer to the passing opinions of the hour. No
+one knew this better than Timms, who had just as lively a recollection
+as his opponent that this very judge was to come before the people, in
+the next autumn, as a candidate for re-election. The great strain of
+American foresight was consequently applied to this man’s conscience,
+who, over-worked and under-paid, was expected to rise above the
+weaknesses of humanity, as a sort of sublimated political theory that is
+getting to be much in fashion, and which, _if true_, would supersede the
+necessity of any court or any government at all. Timms knew this well,
+and was not to be restrained by one who was thus stretched, as it might
+be, on the tenter-hooks of political uncertainty.
+
+“Yes, your honour,” retorted this indomitable individual, “I am fully
+aware of its impropriety, and was just as much so when the counsel for
+the prosecution was carrying it on to the injury of my client; I might
+say almost unchecked, if not encouraged.”
+
+“The court did its best to stop Mr. Williams, sir; and must do the same
+to keep you within the proper limits of practice. Unless these
+improprieties are restrained, I shall confine the counsel for the State
+to the regular officer, and assign new counsel to the accused, as from
+the court.”
+
+Both Williams and Timms looked amused at this menace, neither having the
+smallest notion the judge dare put such a threat in execution. What!
+presume to curb licentiousness when it chose to assume the aspect of
+human rights? This was an act behind the age, more especially in a
+country in which liberty is so fast getting to be all means, with so
+very little regard to the end.
+
+A desultory conversation ensued, when it was finally settled that the
+trial must be postponed until the arrival of the counsel expected from
+town. From the beginning of the discussion, Williams knew such must be
+the termination of that day’s work; but he had accomplished two great
+objects by his motion. In the first place, by conceding delay to the
+accused, it placed the prosecution on ground where a similar favour
+might be asked, should it be deemed expedient. This resisting of motions
+for delay is a common _ruse_ of the bar, since it places the party whose
+rights are seemingly postponed in a situation to demand a similar
+concession. Williams knew that his case was ready as related to his
+brief, the testimony, and all that could properly be produced in court;
+but he thought it might be strengthened out of doors, among the jurors
+and the witnesses. We say, the witnesses; because even this class of men
+get their impressions, quite frequently, as much from what they
+subsequently hear, as from what they have seen and know. A good reliable
+witness, who relates no more than he actually knows, conceals nothing,
+colours nothing, and leaves a perfectly fair impression of the truth, is
+perhaps the rarest of all the parties concerned in the administration of
+justice. No one understood this better than Williams; and his agents
+were, at that very moment, actively employed in endeavouring to persuade
+certain individuals that they knew a great deal more of the facts
+connected with the murders, than the truth would justify. This was not
+done openly or directly; not in a way to alarm the consciences or pride
+of those who were to be duped, but by the agency of hints, and
+suggestions, and plausible reasonings, and all the other obvious
+devices, by means of which the artful and unprincipled are enabled to
+act on the opinions of the credulous and inexperienced.
+
+While all these secret engines were at work in the streets of Biberry,
+the external machinery of justice was set in motion with the usual
+forms. Naked, but business-like, the blind goddess was invoked with what
+is termed “republican simplicity,” one of the great principles of which,
+in some men’s estimation, is to get the maximum of work at the minimum
+of cost. We are no advocates for the senseless parade and ruthless
+expenditure—ruthless, because extracted from the means of the poor—with
+which the governments of the old world have invested their dignity; and
+we believe that the reason of men may be confided in, in managing these
+matters, to a certain extent; though not to the extent that it would
+seem to be the fashion of the American theories, to be desirable. Wigs
+of all kinds, even when there is a deficiency of hair, we hold in utter
+detestation; and we shall maintain that no more absurd scheme of
+clothing the human countenance with terror was ever devised, than to
+clothe it with flax. Nevertheless, as comfort, decency and taste unite
+in recommending clothing of some sort or other, we do not see why the
+judicial functionary should not have his appropriate attire as well as
+the soldier, the sailor, or the priest. It does not necessarily follow
+that extravagances are to be imitated if we submit to this practice;
+though we incline to the opinion that a great deal of the nakedness of
+“republican simplicity,” which has got to be a sort of political idol in
+the land, has its origin in a spirit that denounces the past as a
+species of moral sacrifice to the present time.
+
+Let all this be as it may, it is quite certain that “republican
+simplicity”—the slang lever by means of which the artful move the
+government—has left the administration of justice among us, so far as
+externals are concerned, as naked as may be. Indeed, so much have the
+judges become exposed to sinister influences, by means of the intimacies
+with which they are invested by means of “republican simplicity,” that
+it has been found expedient to make a special provision against undue
+modes of approaching their ears, all of which would have been far more
+efficiently secured by doubling their salaries, making a respectable
+provision for old age in the way of pensions, and surrounding them with
+such forms as would keep the evil-disposed at a reasonable distance.
+Neither Timms nor “saucy Williams,” however, reasoned in this fashion.
+They were, in a high degree, practical men, and saw things as they are;
+not as they ought to be. Little was either troubled with theories,
+regrets, or principles. It was enough for each that he was familiar with
+the workings of the system under which he lived; and which he knew how
+to pervert in a way the most likely to effect his own purposes.
+
+The reader may be surprised at the active pertinacity with which
+Williams pursued one on trial for her life; a class of persons with whom
+the bar usually professes to deal tenderly and in mercy. But the fact
+was that he had been specially retained by the next of kin, who had
+large expectations from the abstracted hoards of his aunt; and that the
+fashion of the day had enabled him to achieve such a _cent per cent_
+bargain with his client, as caused his own compensation altogether to
+depend on the measure of his success. Should Mary Monson be sentenced to
+the gallows, it was highly probable her revelations would put the
+wronged in the way of being righted, when this limb of the law would, in
+all probability, come in for a full share of the recovered gold. How
+different all this was from the motives and conduct of Dunscomb, the
+reader will readily perceive; for, while the profession in this country
+abounds with Williams’s and Timms’s, men of the highest tone of feeling,
+the fairest practice, and the clearest perceptions of what is right, are
+by no means strangers to the bar.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+ “Thou hast already racked me with thy stay;
+ Therefore require me not to ask thee twice:
+ Reply at once to all. What is concluded?”
+ _Mourning Bride._
+
+
+During the interval between the occurrence of the scene in court that
+has just been related, and the appearance of Dunscomb at Biberry, the
+community was rapidly taking sides on the subject of the guilt or
+innocence of Mary Monson. The windows of the gaol were crowded all day;
+throngs collecting there to catch glimpses of the extraordinary female,
+who was rightly enough reported to be living in a species of luxury in
+so unusual a place, and who was known to play on an instrument that the
+popular mind was a good deal disposed to regard as sacred. As a matter
+of course, a hundred stories were in circulation, touching the
+character, history, sayings and doings of this remarkable person, that
+had no foundation whatever in truth; for it is an infirmity of human
+nature to circulate and place its belief in falsehoods of this sort; and
+more especially of human nature as it is exhibited in a country where
+care has been taken to stimulate the curiosity of the vulgar, without
+exactly placing them in a condition to appease its longings, either
+intelligently or in a very good taste.
+
+This interest would have been manifested, in such a case, had there been
+no particular moving cause; but the secret practices of Williams and
+Timms greatly increased its intensity, and was bringing the population
+of Duke’s to a state of excitement that was very little favourable to an
+impartial administration of justice. Discussions had taken place at
+every corner, and in all the bar-rooms; and many were the alleged facts
+connected with the murders, which had their sole existence in rumour,
+that was adduced in the heat of argument, or to make out a
+supposititious case. All this time, Williams was either in court,
+attending closely to his different causes, or was seen passing between
+the court-house and the tavern, with bundles of papers under his arms,
+like a man absorbed in business. Timms played a very similar part,
+though _he_ found leisure to hold divers conferences with several of his
+confidential agents. Testimony was his aim; and, half a dozen times,
+when he fancied himself on the point of establishing something new and
+important, the whole of the ingenious fabric he had reared came tumbling
+about his ears, in consequence of some radical defect in the foundation.
+
+Such was the state of things on the evening of Wednesday, the day
+preceding that which had been set down for the trial, when the stage
+arrived bringing “’Squire Dunscomb,” his carpet-bags, his trunk, and his
+books. McBrain shortly after drove up in his own carriage; and Anna was
+soon in her mother’s arms. The excitement, so general in the place, had
+naturally enough extended to these females; and Mrs. McBrain and her
+daughter were soon closeted, talking over the affair of Mary Monson.
+
+About eight that evening, Dunscomb and Timms were busy, looking over
+minutes of testimony, briefs, and other written documents that were
+connected with the approaching trial. Mrs. Horton had reserved the best
+room in her house for this distinguished counsel; an apartment in a wing
+that was a good deal removed from the noise and bustle of a leading inn,
+during a circuit. Here Dunscomb had been duly installed, and here he
+early set up “his traps,” as he termed his flesh-brushes, sponges,
+briefs, and calfskin-covered volumes. Two tallow candles threw a dim,
+lawyer-like light on the scene; while unrolled paper-curtains shut out
+as much of night as such an imperfect screen would exclude. The odour of
+segars—excellent Havannas, by the way—was fragrant in the place; and one
+of the little fountains of smoke was stuck knowingly in a corner of the
+eminent counsel’s mouth, while Timms had garnished his skinny lips with
+the short stump of a pipe. Neither said anything; one of the parties
+presenting documents that the other read in silence. Such was the state
+of matters, when a slight tap at the door was succeeded by the
+unexpected appearance of “saucy Williams.” Timms started, gathered
+together all his papers with the utmost care, and awaited the
+explanation of this unlooked-for visit with the most lively curiosity.
+Dunscomb, on the other hand, received his guest with urbanity, and like
+one who felt that the wrangling of the bar, in which, by the way, he had
+too much self-respect and good temper to indulge, had no necessary
+connection with the courtesies of private life.
+
+Williams had scarcely a claim superior to those of Timms, to be
+considered a gentleman; though he had the advantage of having been what
+is termed liberally educated—a phrase of very doubtful import, when put
+to the test of old-fashioned notions on such subjects. In manners, he
+had the defects, and we may add the merits, of the school in which he
+had been educated. All that has been said of Timms on this subject, in
+the way of censure, was equally applicable to Williams; but the last
+possessed a self-command, an admirable reliance on his own qualities,
+which would have fitted him, as regards this one quality, to be an
+emperor. Foreigners wonder at the self-possession of Americans in the
+presence of the great; and it is really one of the merits of the
+institutions that it causes every person to feel that he is a man, and
+entitled to receive the treatment due to a being so high in the scale of
+earthly creations. It is true, that this feeling often degenerates into
+a vulgar and over-sensitive jealousy, frequently rendering its possessor
+exacting and ridiculous; but, on the whole, the effect is manly, not to
+say ennobling.
+
+Now, Williams was self-possessed by nature, as well as by association
+and education. Though keenly alive to the differences and chances of
+fortune, he never succumbed to mere rank and wealth. Intriguing by
+disposition, not to say by education, he could affect a deference he did
+not feel; but, apart from the positive consequences of power, he was not
+to be daunted by the presence of the most magnificent sovereign who ever
+reigned. No wonder, then, that he felt quite at home in the company of
+his present host; though fully aware that he was one of the leading
+members of the New York bar. As a proof of this independence may be
+cited the fact that he had no sooner paid his salutations and been
+invited to be seated, than he deliberately selected a segar from the
+open box of Dunscomb, lighted it, took a chair, raised one leg coolly on
+the corner of a table, and began to smoke.
+
+“The calendar is a little crowded,” observed this free-and-easy visiter,
+“and is likely to carry us over into the middle of next week. Are you
+retained in Daniels against Fireman’s Insurance?”
+
+“I am not—a brief was offered by the plaintiff, but I declined taking
+it.”
+
+“A little conscientious, I suppose. Well, I leave all the sin of my
+suits on the shoulders of my clients. It is bad enough to _listen_ to
+their griefs, without being called on to _smart_ for them. I have heard
+you are in Cogswell against Davidson?”
+
+“In that cause I have been retained. I may as well say, at once, we
+intend to move it on.”
+
+“It’s of no great moment—if you beat us at the circuit, our turn will
+come on execution.”
+
+“I believe, Mr. Williams, your clients have a knack at gaining the day
+in that mode. It is of no great interest to me, however, as I rarely
+take the management of a cause after it quits the courts.”
+
+“How do you like the Code, brother Dunscomb?”
+
+“Damnable, sir. I am too old, in the first place, to like change. Then
+change from bad to worse is adding folly to imbecility. The Common Law
+practice had its faults, I allow; but this new system has no merits.”
+
+“I do not go as far as that; and I rather begin to like the new plan of
+remuneration. We are nothing out of pocket, and sometimes are a handsome
+sum in. You defend Mary Monson?”
+
+Timms felt assured that his old antagonist had now reached the case that
+had really brought him to the room. He fidgeted, looked eagerly round to
+see that no stray paper could fall beneath the hawk-like eye of the
+other party, and then sat in comparative composure, waiting the result.
+
+“I do,” Dunscomb quietly replied; “and I shall do it _con amore_—I
+suppose you know what that means, Mr. Williams?”
+
+A sarcastic smile passed over the steeled countenance of the other, his
+appearance being literally sardonic for an instant.
+
+“I presume I do. We know enough Latin in Duke’s to get along with such a
+quotation; though our friend Timms here despises the classics. ‘Con
+amore’ means, in this instance, a ‘lover’s zeal,’ I suppose; for they
+tell me that all who approach the criminal submits to her power to
+charm.”
+
+“The _accused_, if you please,” put in the opposing attorney; “but no
+_criminal_, until the word ‘_guilty_’ has been pronounced.”
+
+“I am convicted. They say you are to be the happy man, Timms, in the
+event of an acquittal. It is reported all over the county, that you are
+to become Mr. Monson as a reward for your services; and if half that I
+hear be true, you will deserve her, with a good estate in the bargain.”
+
+Here Williams laughed heartily at his own wit; but Dunscomb looked
+grave, while his associate counsel looked angry. In point of fact the
+nail had been hit on the head; and consciousness lighted the spirit
+within, with its calm, mild glow. The senior counsel was too proud, and
+too dignified, to make any reply; but Timms was troubled with no such
+feeling.
+
+“If there are any such rumours in old Duke’s,” retorted the last, “it
+will not need mesmerism to discover their author. In my opinion, the
+people ought to carry on their suits in a spirit of liberality and
+justice; and not in a vindictive, malicious temper.”
+
+“We are all of the same way of thinking,” answered Williams, with a
+sneer. “I consider it liberal to give you a handsome young woman with a
+full purse; though no one can say how, or by whom, it has been filled.
+By the way, Mr. Dunscomb, I am instructed to make a proposal to you; and
+as Timms is in the court, this may be as good a moment as another to
+present it for consideration. My offer is from the nephew, next of kin,
+and sole heir of the late Peter Goodwin; by whom, as you probably know,
+I am retained. This gentleman is well assured that his deceased
+relatives had a large sum in gold by them, at the time of the murders——”
+
+“No verdict has yet shown that there has been any murders at all,”
+interrupted Timms.
+
+“We have the verdict of the inquest, begging your pardon, brother
+Timms—that is something, surely; though not enough, quite likely, to
+convince your mind. But, to proceed with my proposition:—My client is
+well assured that such a secret fund existed. He also knows that _your_
+client, gentlemen, is flush of money, and money in gold coins that
+correspond with many pieces that have been seen by different individuals
+in the possession of our aunt——”
+
+“Ay, eagles and half-eagles,” interrupted Timms—“a resemblance that
+comes from the stamp of the mint.”
+
+“Go on with your proposition, Mr. Williams”—said Dunscomb.
+
+“We offer to withdraw all our extra counsel, myself included, and to
+leave the case altogether with the State, which is very much the same
+thing as an acquittal; provided you will _return_ to us five thousand
+dollars in this gold coin. Not _pay_, for that might be compounding a
+felony; but _return_.”
+
+“There could be no compounding a felony, if the indictment be not
+quashed, but traversed,” said the senior counsel for the defence.
+
+“Very true; but we prefer the word ‘return.’ That leaves everything
+clear, and will enable us to face the county. Our object is to get our
+_rights_—let the State take care of its justice for itself.”
+
+“You can hardly expect that such a proposition should be accepted,
+Williams?”
+
+“I am not so sure of that, Timms; life is sweeter than money even. I
+should like to hear the answer of your associate, however. You, I can
+see, have no intention of lessening the marriage portion, if it can be
+helped.”
+
+Such side-hits were so common in court, as between these worthies, that
+neither thought much of them out of court. But Williams gave a signal
+proof of the acuteness of his observation, when he expressed a wish to
+know in what light his proposal was viewed by Dunscomb. That learned
+gentleman evidently paid more respect to the offer than had been
+manifested by his associate; and now sat silently ruminating on its
+nature. Thus directly appealed to, he felt the necessity of giving some
+sort of an answer.
+
+“You have come expressly to make this proposition to us, Mr. Williams?”
+Dunscomb demanded.
+
+“To be frank with you, sir, such is the main object of my visit.”
+
+“Of course it is sanctioned by your client, and you speak by authority?”
+
+“It is fully sanctioned by my client, who would greatly prefer the plan;
+and I act directly by his written instructions. Nothing short of these
+would induce me to make the proposition.”
+
+“Very well, sir. Will an answer by ten o’clock this evening meet your
+views?”
+
+“Perfectly so. An answer at any time between this and the sitting of the
+court to-morrow morning, will fully meet our views. The terms, however,
+cannot be diminished. Owing to the shortness of the time, it may be well
+to understand _that_.”
+
+“Then, Mr. Williams, I ask a little time for reflection and
+consultation. We may meet again to-night.”
+
+The other assented, rose, coolly helped himself to another segar, and
+had got as far as the door, when an expressive gesture from Timms
+induced him to pause.
+
+“Let us understand each other,” said the last, with emphasis. “Is this a
+truce, with a complete cessation of hostilities; or is it only a
+negotiation to be carried on in the midst of war?”
+
+“I hardly comprehend your meaning, Mr. Timms. The question is simply one
+of taking certain forces—allied forces, they may be called—from the
+field, and leaving you to contend only with the main enemy. There need
+be nothing said of a truce, since nothing further can be done until the
+court opens.”
+
+“That may do very well, Williams, for those that haven’t practised in
+Duke’s as long as myself; but it will not do for me. There is an army of
+reporters here, at this moment; and I am afraid that the allies of whom
+you speak have whole corps of skirmishers.”
+
+Williams maintained a countenance so unmoved that even the judicious
+Timms was a little shaken; while Dunscomb, who had all the reluctance of
+a gentleman to believe in an act of meanness, felt outraged by his
+associate’s suspicions.
+
+“Come, come, Mr. Timms,” the last exclaimed, “I beg we may have no more
+of this. Mr. Williams has come with a proposition worthy of our
+consideration; let us meet it in the spirit in which it is offered.”
+
+“Yes,” repeated Williams, with a look that might well have explained his
+_sobriquet_ of ‘saucy;’ “yes, in the spirit in which it is offered. What
+do you say to that, Timms?”
+
+“That I shall manage the defence precisely as if no such proposition had
+been made, or any negotiation accepted. You can do the same for the
+prosecution.”
+
+“Agreed!” Williams rejoined, making a sweeping gesture with his hand,
+and immediately quitting the room.
+
+Dunscomb was silent for a minute. A thread of smoke arose from the end
+of his segar; but the volume no longer poured from between his lips. He
+was ruminating too intensely even to smoke. Rising suddenly, he took his
+hat, and motioned towards the door.
+
+“Timms, we must go to the gaol,” he said; “Mary Monson must be spoken to
+at once.”
+
+“If Williams had made his proposition ten days ago, there might be some
+use in listening to it,” returned the junior, following the senior
+counsel from the room, carrying all the papers in the cause under an
+arm; “but, now that all the mischief is done, it would be throwing away
+five thousand dollars to listen to his proposition.”
+
+“We will see—we will see,” answered the other, hurrying down
+stairs—“what means the rumpus in that room, Timms? Mrs. Horton has not
+treated me well, to place a troublesome neighbour so near me. I shall
+stop and tell her as much, as we go through the hall.”
+
+“You had better not, ’Squire. We want all our friends just now; and a
+sharp word might cause us to lose this woman, who has a devil of a
+tongue. She tells me that a crazy man was brought here privately; and,
+being well paid for it, she has consented to give him what she calls her
+‘drunkard’s parlour,’ until the court has settled his affair. His room,
+like your own, is so much out of the way, that the poor fellow gives
+very little trouble to the great body of the boarders.”
+
+“Ay, very little trouble to _you_, and the rest of you, in the main
+building; but a great deal to me. I shall speak to Mrs. Horton on the
+subject, as we pass out.”
+
+“Better not, ’Squire. The woman is our friend now, I know; but a warm
+word may turn her to the right-about.”
+
+It is probable Dunscomb was influenced by his companion; for he left the
+house without putting his threat in execution. In a few minutes he and
+Timms were at the gaol. As counsel could not well be refused admission
+to their client on the eve of trial, the two lawyers were admitted to
+the gallery within the outer door that has been so often mentioned. Of
+course, Mary Monson was notified of the visit; and she received them
+with Anna Updyke, the good, gentle, considerate Anna, who was ever
+disposed to help the weak and to console the unhappy, at her side.
+Dunscomb had no notion that the intimacy had grown to this head; but
+when he came to reflect that one of the parties was to be tried for her
+life next day, he was disposed to overlook the manifest indiscretion of
+his old favourite in being in such a place. Mrs. McBrain’s presence
+released him from all responsibility; and he returned the warm pressure
+of Anna’s hand in kindness, if not with positive approbation. As for the
+girl herself, the very sight of “Uncle Tom,” as she had so long been
+accustomed to call the counsellor, cheered her heart, and raised new
+hopes in behalf of her friend.
+
+In a few clear, pointed words, Dunscomb let the motive of his visit be
+known. There was little time to throw away, and he went directly at his
+object, stating everything succinctly, but in the most intelligible
+manner. Nothing could have been more calm than the manner in which Mary
+Monson listened to his statement; her deportment being as steady as that
+of one sitting in judgment herself, rather than that of a person whose
+own fate was involved in the issue.
+
+“It is a large sum to raise in so short a time,” continued the
+kind-hearted Dunscomb; “but I deem the proposition so important to your
+interest, that, rather than lose this advantage, I would not hesitate
+about advancing the money myself, should you be unprepared for so heavy
+a demand.”
+
+“As respects the money, Mr. Dunscomb,” returned the fair prisoner, in
+the most easy and natural manner, “_that_ need give us no concern. By
+sending a confidential messenger to town—Mr. John Wilmeter, for
+instance”—here Anna pressed less closely to her friend’s side—“it would
+be very easy to have five hundred eagles or a thousand half-eagles here,
+by breakfast-time to-morrow. It is not on account of any such difficulty
+that I hesitate a moment. What I dislike is the injustice of the thing.
+I have never touched a cent of poor Mrs. Goodwin’s hoard; and it would
+be false to admit that I am _returning_ that which I never received.”
+
+“We must not be particular, ma’am, on immaterial points, when there is
+so much at stake.”
+
+“It may be immaterial whether I pay money under one form or another, Mr.
+Dunscomb; but it cannot be immaterial to my future standing, whether I
+am acquitted in the teeth of this Mr. Williams’s opposition, or under
+favour of his purchase.”
+
+“Acquitted! Our case is not absolutely clear, Miss Monson—it is my duty
+to tell you as much!”
+
+“I understand such to be the opinion of both Mr. Timms and yourself,
+sir; I like the candour of your conduct, but am not converted to your
+way of thinking. I shall be acquitted, gentlemen—yes, honourably,
+triumphantly acquitted; and I cannot consent to lessen the impression of
+such a termination to my affair, by putting myself in the way of being
+even suspected of a collusion with a man like this saucy Williams. It is
+far better to meet him openly, and to defy him to do his worst. Perhaps
+some such trial, followed by complete success, will be necessary to my
+future happiness.”
+
+Anna now pressed nearer to the side of her friend; passing an arm,
+unconsciously to herself, around her waist. As for Dunscomb, he gazed at
+the handsome prisoner in a sort of stupefied wonder. The place, the
+hour, the business of the succeeding day, and all the accessories of the
+scene, had an effect to increase the confusion of his mind, and, for the
+moment, to call in question the fidelity of his senses. As he gazed at
+the prison-like aspect of the gallery, his eye fell on the countenance
+of Marie Moulin, and rested there in surprise for half a minute. The
+Swiss maid was looking earnestly at her mistress, with an expression of
+concern and of care so intense, that it caused the counsellor to search
+for their cause. For the first time it flashed on his mind that Mary
+Monson might be a lunatic, and that the defence so often set up in
+capital cases as to weary the common mind, might be rendered justly
+available in this particular instance. The whole conduct of this
+serving-woman had been so singular; the deportment of Mary Monson
+herself was so much out of the ordinary rules; and the adhesion of Anna
+Updyke, a girl of singular prudence of conduct, notwithstanding her
+disposition to enthusiasm, so marked, that the inference was far from
+unnatural. Nevertheless, Mary Monson had never looked more calm, more
+intellectual; never manifested more of a mien of high intelligence, than
+at that very instant. The singular illumination of the countenance to
+which we have had occasion already to allude, was conspicuous, but it
+was benignant and quiet; and the flush of the cheeks added lustre to her
+eyes. Then the sentiments expressed were just and noble, free from the
+cunning and mendacity of a maniac; and such as any man might be proud to
+have the wife of his bosom entertain. All these considerations quickly
+chased the rising distrust from Dunscomb’s mind, and his thoughts
+reverted to the business that had brought him there.
+
+“You are the best judge, ma’am, of what will most contribute to your
+happiness,” rejoined the counsellor, after a brief pause. “In the
+ignorance in which we are kept of the past, I might well add, the _only_
+judge; though it is possible that your female companions know more, in
+this respect, than your legal advisers. It is proper I should say, once
+more, and probably for the last time, that your case will be greatly
+prejudiced unless you enable us to dwell on your past life freely and
+truly.”
+
+“I am accused of murdering an unoffending female and her husband; of
+setting fire to the dwelling, and of robbing them of their gold. These
+are accusations that can properly be answered only by a complete
+acquittal, after a solemn investigation. No half-way measures will do. I
+must be found not guilty, or a blot rests on my character for life. My
+position is singular—I had almost said cruel—in some respects owing to
+my own wilfulness——”
+
+Here Anna Updyke pressed closer to her friend’s side, as if she would
+defend her against these self-accusations; while Marie Moulin dropped
+her needle, and listened with the liveliest curiosity.
+
+“In _many_ respects, perhaps,” continued Mary, after a short pause, “and
+I must take the consequences. Wilfulness has ever been my greatest
+enemy. It has been fed by perfect independence and too much money. I
+doubt if it be good for woman to be thus tried. We were created for
+dependence, Mr. Dunscomb; dependence on our fathers, on our brothers,
+and perhaps on our husbands”—here there was another pause; and the
+cheeks of the fair speaker flushed, while her eyes became brilliant to
+light.
+
+“_Perhaps!_” repeated the counsellor, with solemn emphasis.
+
+“I know that men think differently from us on this subject——”
+
+“From _us_—do you desire me to believe that most women wish to be
+independent of their husbands? Ask the young woman at your side, if
+_that_ be her feeling of the duties of her sex.”
+
+Anna dropped her head on her bosom, and blushed scarlet. In all her
+day-dreams of happiness with John Wilmeter, the very reverse of the
+feeling now alluded to, had been uppermost in her mind; and to her
+nothing had ever seemed half as sweet as the picture of leaning on him
+for support, guidance, authority, and advice. The thought of
+independence would have been painful to her; for a principle of nature,
+the instinct of her sex, taught her that the part of woman was “to love,
+honour, and obey.” As for Mary Monson, she quailed a little before the
+severe eye of Dunscomb; but education, the accidents of life, and
+possibly a secret principle of her peculiar temperament, united to
+stimulate her to maintain her original ground.
+
+“I know not what may be the particular notions of Miss Updyke,” returned
+this singular being, “but I can feel my own longings. They are all for
+independence. Men have not dealt fairly by women. Possessing the power,
+they have made all the laws, fashioned all the opinions of the world, in
+their own favour. Let a woman err, and she can never rise from her fall;
+while men live with impunity in the midst of their guilt. If a woman
+think differently from those around her, she is expected to conceal her
+opinions, in order to receive those of her masters. Even in the worship
+of God, the highest and most precious of all our duties, she is expected
+to play a secondary part, and act as if the Christian Faith favoured the
+sentiment of another, which teaches that women have no souls.”
+
+“All this is as old as the repinings of a very treacherous nature, young
+lady,” answered Dunscomb, coolly; “and I have often heard it before. It
+is not surprising, however, that a young, handsome, highly-educated, and
+I presume rich, person of your sex, should be seduced by notions
+seemingly so attractive, and long for what she will be apt to term the
+emancipation of her sex. This is an age of emancipation; prudent
+grey-headed men become deluded, and exhibit their folly by succumbing to
+a wild and exceedingly silly philanthropical hurrah! Even religion is
+emancipated! There are churches, it is true; but they exist as
+appendages of society, instead of being divine institutions, established
+for the secret purposes of unerring wisdom; and we hear men openly
+commending this or that ecclesiastical organization, because it has more
+or less of the savour of republicanism. But one new dogma remains to be
+advanced—that the government of the universe is democratical—in which
+the ‘music of the spheres’ is a popular song; and the disappearance of a
+world a matter to be referred to the people in their primary capacity.
+Among other absurdities of the hour is a new law, giving to married
+women the control of their property, and drawing a line of covetousness
+across the bolster of every marriage bed in the State!”
+
+“Surely, Mr. Dunscomb, a man of your integrity, character, manliness,
+and principles, would defend the weaker sex in the maintenance of its
+rights against prodigality, tyranny, and neglect!”
+
+“These are so many words, my dear ma’am, and are totally without
+meaning, when thoroughly sifted. God created woman to be a help-meet to
+man—to comfort, solace, and aid him in his pursuit after worldly
+happiness; but always in a dependent relation. The marriage condition,
+viewed in its every-day aspect, has sufficient causes of disagreement,
+without drawing in this of property. One of the dearest and nearest of
+its ties, indeed, that of a perfect identification of interests, is at
+once cut off by this foolish, not to say wicked attempt to light the
+torch of contention in every household. It were better to teach our
+women not to throw themselves away on men who cannot be trusted; to
+inculcate the necessity of not marrying in haste to repent at leisure,
+than to tinker the old, venerable, and long-tried usages of our fathers,
+by crotchets that come far more from the feverish audacity of ignorance,
+than from philosophy or wisdom. Why, unless the courts interpose their
+prudence to rectify the blunders of the legislature, as they have
+already done a hundred times, the labourer’s wife may have her action
+against her husband for the earthen bowl he has broken; and the man may
+be sued by the wife for rent! The happiness of every home is hourly put
+in jeopardy, in order that, now and then, a wife may be saved from the
+courses of a speculator or a spendthrift.”
+
+“Might not this have been done before, uncle Tom, by means of
+settlements?” asked Anna, with interest.
+
+“Certainly; and that it is which renders all this silly quackery so much
+the worse. In those cases in which the magnitude of the stake might seem
+to demand extraordinary care, the means already existed for providing
+all useful safeguards; and any new legislation was quite unnecessary.
+This very law will produce twenty-fold more unhappiness in families,
+than it will prevent of misery, by setting up distinct, and often
+conflicting interests, among those who ought to live as ‘bone of their
+bone, and flesh of their flesh.’”
+
+“You do not give to woman her proper place in society, Mr. Dunscomb,”
+returned Mary Monson, haughtily; “your comments are those of a bachelor.
+I have heard of a certain Miss Millington, who once had an interest with
+you, and who, if living, would have taught you juster sentiments on this
+subject.”
+
+Dunscomb turned as white as a sheet; his hand and lip quivered; and all
+desire to continue the discourse suddenly left him. The gentle Anna,
+ever attentive to his wishes and ailings, stole to his side, silently
+offering a glass of water. She had seen this agitation before, and knew
+there was a leaf in “Uncle Tom’s” history that he did not wish every
+vulgar eye to read.
+
+As for Mary Monson, she went into her cell, like one who declined any
+further communication with her counsel. Timms was struck with her lofty
+and decided manner; but stood too much in awe of her, to interpose a
+remonstrance. After a few minutes taken by Dunscomb to regain his
+self-command, and a brief consultation together, the two lawyers quitted
+the prison. All this time, the accused remained in her cell, in
+resentful silence, closely and anxiously watched by the searching eye of
+her senior attendant.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XIX.
+
+ “Methinks, if, as I guess, the fault’s but small,
+ It might be pardoned.”
+ _The Orphan._
+
+
+Perhaps no surer test of high principles, as it is certain no more
+accurate test of high breeding can be found, than a distaste for
+injurious gossip. In woman, subject as she is unquestionably by her
+education, habits, and active curiosity, to the influence of this vice,
+its existence is deplorable, leading to a thousand wrongs, among the
+chief of which is a false appreciation of ourselves; but, when men
+submit to so vile a propensity, they become contemptible, as well as
+wicked. As a result of long observation, we should say that those who
+are most obnoxious to the just condemnation of the world, are the most
+addicted to finding faults in others; and it is only the comparatively
+good, who are so because they are humble, that abstain from meddling and
+dealing in scandal.
+
+When one reflects on the great amount of injustice that is thus
+inflicted, without even the most remote hope of reparation, how far a
+loose, ill-considered and ignorant remark will float on the tongues of
+the idle, how much unmerited misery is oftentimes entailed by such
+unweighed assertions and opinions, and how small is the return of
+benefit in any form whatever, it would almost appear a necessary moral
+consequence that the world, by general consent, would determine to
+eradicate so pernicious an evil, in the common interest of mankind. That
+it does not, is probably owing to the power that is still left in the
+hands of the Father of Sin, by the Infinite Wisdom that has seen fit to
+place us in this condition of trial. The parent of all lies, gossip, is
+one of the most familiar of the means he employs to put his falsehoods
+in circulation.
+
+This vice is heartless and dangerous when confined to its natural
+limits, the circles of society; but, when it invades the outer walks of
+life, and, most of all, when it gets mixed up with the administration of
+justice, it becomes a tyrant as ruthless and injurious in its way, as he
+who fiddled while Rome was in flames. We have no desire to exaggerate
+the evils of the state of society in which we live; but an honest regard
+to truth will, we think, induce every observant man to lament the manner
+in which this power, under the guise of popular opinion, penetrates into
+all the avenues of the courts, corrupting, perverting, and often
+destroying, the healthful action of their systems.
+
+Biberry furnished a clear example of the truth of these remarks on the
+morning of the day on which Mary Monson was to be tried. The gaol-window
+had its crowd of course; and though the disposition of curtains, and
+other similar means of concealment, completely baffled vulgar curiosity,
+they could not cloak the resentful feelings to which this reserve gave
+birth. Most of those who were drawn thither belonged to a class who
+fancied it was not affliction enough to be accused of two of the highest
+crimes known to the laws; but that to this grievous misfortune should be
+added a submission to the stare of the multitude. It was the people’s
+laws the accused was supposed to have disregarded; and it was their
+privilege to anticipate punishment, by insult.
+
+“Why don’t she show herself, and let the public look on her?” demanded
+one curious old man, whose head had whitened under a steadily increasing
+misconception of what the rights of this public were. “I’ve seen
+murderers afore now, and ain’t a bit afeard on ’em, if they be well
+ironed and look’d a’ter.”
+
+This sally produced a heartless laugh; for, sooth to say, where _one_
+feels, under such circumstances, as reason, and justice, and revelation
+would tell them to feel, ten feel as the demons prompt.
+
+“You cannot expect that a lady of fashion, who plays on the harp and
+talks French, will show her pretty face to be gazed at by common folk,”
+rejoined a shabby-genteel sort of personage, out of whose
+waistcoat-pocket obtruded the leaves of a small note-book, and the end
+of a gold pen. This man was a reporter, rendered malignant by meeting
+with opposition to his views of imagining that the universe was created
+to furnish paragraphs for newspapers. He was a half-educated European,
+who pronounced all his words in a sort of boarding-school dialect, as if
+abbreviation offended a taste ‘sicken’d over by learning.’
+
+Another laugh succeeded this supercilious sneer; and three or four lads,
+half-grown and clamorous, called aloud the name of “Mary Monson,”
+demanding that she should show herself. At that moment the accused was
+on her knees, with Anna Updyke at her side, praying for that support
+which, as the crisis arrived, she found to be more and more necessary!
+
+Changing from the scene to the open street, we find a pettifogger, one
+secretly prompted by Williams, spreading a report that had its origin no
+one knew where, but which was gradually finding its way to the ears of
+half the population of Duke’s, exciting prejudice and inflicting wrong.
+
+“It’s the curi’stest story I ever heard,” said Sam Tongue, as the
+pettifogger was usually styled, though his real name was Hubbs; “and one
+so hard to believe, that, though I tell it, I call on no man to believe
+it. You see, gentlemen”—the little group around him was composed of
+suitors, witnesses, jurors, grand-jurors, and others of a stamp that
+usually mark these several classes of men—“that the account now is, that
+this Mary Monson was sent abroad for her schoolin’ when only ten years
+old; and that she staid in the old countries long enough to l’arn to
+play the harp, and other deviltries of the same natur’. It’s a
+misfortin’, as I say, for any young woman to be sent out of Ameriky for
+an edication. Edication, as everybody knows, is the great glory of _our_
+country; and a body would think that what can’t be l’arn’t _here_, isn’t
+worth knowin’.”
+
+This sentiment was well received, as would be any opinion that asserted
+American superiority, with that particular class of listeners. Eye
+turned to eye, nod answered nod, and a murmur expressive of approbation
+passed through the little crowd.
+
+“But there was no great harm in that,” put in a person named Hicks, who
+was accustomed to connect consequences with their causes, and to trace
+causes down to their consequences. “Anybody might have been edicated in
+France as well as Mary Monson. _That_ will hardly tell ag’in her on the
+trial.”
+
+“I didn’t say it would,” answered Sam Tongue; “though it’s gin’rally
+conceded that France is no country for religion or true freedom. Give me
+religion and freedom, say I; a body can get along with bad crops, or
+disapp’intments in gin’ral, so long as he has plenty of religion and
+plenty of freedom.”
+
+Another murmur, another movement in the group, and other nods denoted
+the spirit in which this was received too.
+
+“All this don’t make ag’in Mary Monson; ’specially as you say she was
+sent abroad so young. It wasn’t her fault if her parents——”
+
+“She had no parents—there’s the great mystery of her case. Never had, so
+far as can be discovered. A gal without parents, without fri’nds of any
+sort, is edicated in a foreign land, l’arns to speak foreign tongues,
+plays on foreign music, and comes home a’ter she’s grown up, with her
+pockets as full as if she’d been to Californy and met a vein; and no one
+can tell where it all come from!”
+
+“Well, _that_ won’t tell ag’in her, ne’ther,” rejoined Hicks, who had
+now defended the accused so much that he began to take an interest in
+her acquittal. “Evidence must be direct, and have a p’int, to tell ag’in
+man or woman. As for Californy, it’s made lawful by treaty, if Congress
+will only let it alone.”
+
+“I know that as well as the best lawyer in Duke’s; but _character_ can
+tell ag’in an accused, as is very likely to be shown in the Oyer and
+Tarminer of this day. Character counts, let me tell you, when the facts
+get a little confused; and this is just what I was about to say. Mary
+Monson has money; where does it come from?”
+
+“Those that think her guilty say that it comes from poor Mrs. Goodwin’s
+stockin’,” returned Hicks, with a laugh; “but, for my part, I’ve _seen_
+that stockin’, and am satisfied it didn’t hold five hundred dollars, if
+it did four.”
+
+Here the reporter out with his notes, scribbling away for some time.
+That evening a paragraph, a little altered to give it point and
+interest, appeared in an evening paper, in which the conflicting
+statements of Tongue and Hicks were so presented, that neither of these
+worthies could have recognised his own child. That paper was in Biberry
+next morning, and had no inconsiderable influence, ultimately, on the
+fortunes of the accused.
+
+In the bar-room of Mrs. Horton, the discussion was also lively and wily
+on this same subject. As this was a place much frequented by the jurors,
+the agents of Timms and Williams were very numerous in and around that
+house. The reader is not to suppose that these men admitted directly to
+themselves even, the true character of the rascally business in which
+they were engaged; for their employers were much too shrewd not to
+cover, to a certain degree, the deformity of their own acts. One set had
+been told that they were favouring justice, bringing down aristocratic
+pride to the level of the rights of the mass, demonstrating that this
+was a free country, by one of the very vilest procedures that ever
+polluted the fountains of justice at their very source. On the other
+hand, the agents of Timms had been persuaded that they were working in
+behalf of a persecuted and injured woman, who was pressed upon by the
+well-known avarice of the nephew of the Goodwins, and who was in danger
+of becoming the victim of a chain of extraordinary occurrences that had
+thrown her into the meshes of the law. It is true, this reasoning was
+backed by liberal gifts; which, however, were made to assume the aspect
+of compensation fairly earned; for the biggest villain going derives a
+certain degree of satisfaction in persuading himself that he is acting
+under the influence of motives to which he is, in truth, a stranger. The
+homage which vice pays to virtue is on a much more extended scale than
+is commonly supposed.
+
+Williams’s men had much the best of it with the mass. They addressed
+themselves to prejudices as wide as the dominion of man; and a certain
+personal zeal was mingled with their cupidity. Then they had, by far,
+the easiest task. He who merely aids the evil principles of our nature,
+provided he conceal the cloven foot, is much more sure of finding
+willing listeners than he who looks for support in the good. A very
+unusual sort of story was circulated in this bar-room at the expense of
+the accused, and which carried with it more credit than common, in
+consequence of its being so much out of the beaten track of events as to
+seem to set invention at defiance.
+
+Mary Monson was said to be an heiress, well connected, and well
+educated—or, as these three very material circumstances were stated by
+the Williams’ men—“well to do herself, of friends well to do, and of
+excellent schooling.” She had been married to a person of equal position
+in society, wealth and character, but many years her senior—too many,
+the story went, considering her own time of life; for a great
+difference, when one of the parties is youthful, is apt to tax the
+tastes too severely—and that connection had not proved happy. It had
+been formed abroad, and more on foreign than on American principles; the
+bridegroom being a Frenchman. It was what is called a _mariage de
+raison_, made through the agency of friends and executors, rather than
+through the sympathies and feelings that should alone bring man and
+woman together in this, the closest union known to human beings. After a
+year of married life abroad, the unmatched couple had come to America,
+where the wife possessed a very ample fortune. This estate the recently
+enacted laws gave solely and absolutely to herself; and it soon became a
+source of dissension between man and wife. The husband, quite naturally,
+considered himself entitled to advise and direct, and, in some measure,
+to control, while the affluent, youthful, and pretty wife, was
+indisposed to yield any of the independence she so much prized, but
+which, in sooth, was asserted in the very teeth of one of the most
+salutary laws of nature. In consequence of this very different manner of
+viewing the marriage relation, a coolness ensued, which was shortly
+followed by the disappearance of the wife. This wife was Mary Monson,
+who had secreted herself in the retired dwelling of the Goodwins, while
+the hired agents of her husband were running up and down the land in
+search of the fugitive in places of resort. To this account, so strange,
+and yet in many respects so natural, it was added that a vein of occult
+madness existed in the lady’s family; and it was suggested that, as so
+much of her conduct as was out of the ordinary course might be traced to
+this malady, so was it also possible that the terrible incidents of the
+fire and the deaths were to be imputed to the same deep affliction.
+
+We are far from saying that any rumour expressed in the terms we have
+used, was circulating in Mrs. Horton’s bar-room; but one that contained
+all their essentials was. It is one of the curious effects of the upward
+tendency of truth that almost every effort to conceal it altogether
+fails; and this at the very time when idle and heartless gossip is
+filling the world with lies. The tongue does a thousand times more evil
+than the sword; destroys more happiness, inflicts more incurable wounds,
+leaves deeper and more indelible scars. Truth is rarely met with
+unalloyed by falsehood.
+
+ “This or that unmix’d, no mortal e’er shall find”—
+
+Was the judgment of Pope a century since; nor has all the boasted
+progress of these later times induced a change. It is remarkable that a
+country which seems honestly devoted to improvement of every sort, that
+has a feverish desire to take the lead in the warfare against all sorts
+and species of falsehood, gives not the slightest heed to the necessity
+of keeping the channels of intelligence _pure_, as well as _open_! Such
+is the fact; and it is a melancholy but a just admission to acknowledge
+that with all the means of publicity preserved by America, there is no
+country in which it is more difficult to get unadulterated truth
+impressed on the common mind. The same wire that transmits a true
+account of the price of cotton from Halifax to New Orleans, carries a
+spark that imparts one that is false. The two arrive together; and it is
+not until each has done its work that the real fact is ascertained.
+
+Notwithstanding these undoubted obstacles to the circulation of
+unalloyed truth, that upward tendency to which we have alluded
+occasionally brings out clear and strong rays of the divine quality,
+that illumine the moral darkness on which they shine, as the sun touches
+the verge of the thunder-cloud. It is in this way that an occasional
+report is heard, coming from no one knows where; originating with, no
+one knows whom; circulating in a sort of under-current beneath the
+torrents of falsehood, that is singularly, if it be not absolutely
+correct.
+
+Of this character was the strange rumour that found its way into Biberry
+on the morning of Mary Monson’s trial, touching the history of that
+mysterious young woman’s past life. Wilmeter heard it, first, with a
+pang of disappointment, though Anna had nearly regained her power in his
+heart; and this pang was immediately succeeded by unbounded surprise. He
+told the tale to Millington; and together they endeavoured to trace the
+report to something like its source. All efforts of this nature were in
+vain. One had heard the story from another; but no one could say whence
+it came originally. The young men gave the pursuit up as useless, and
+proceeded together towards the room of Timms, where they knew Dunscomb
+was to be found, just at that time.
+
+“It is remarkable that a story of this nature should be in such general
+circulation,” said John, “and no one be able to tell who brought it to
+Biberry. Parts of it seem extravagant. Do they not strike you so, sir?”
+
+“There is nothing too extravagant for some women to do,” answered
+Millington, thoughtfully. “Now, on such a person as Sarah, or even on
+Anna Updyke, some calculations might be made—certain calculations, I
+might say; but, there are women, Jack, on whom one can no more depend,
+than on the constancy of the winds.”
+
+“I admire your—‘even on Anna Updyke!’”
+
+“Do you not agree with me?” returned the unobservant Millington. “I have
+always considered Sarah’s friend as a particularly reliable and safe
+sort of person.”
+
+“Even on Anna Updyke!—and a particularly reliable and safe sort of
+person!—You have thought this, Mike, because she is Sarah’s bosom
+friend!”
+
+“That _may_ have prejudiced me in her favour, I will allow; for I like
+most things that Sarah likes.”
+
+John looked at his friend and future brother-in-law with an amused
+surprise; the idea of liking Anna Updyke on any account but her own,
+striking him as particularly absurd. But they were soon at Timms’s door,
+and the conversation dropped as a matter of course.
+
+No one who has ever travelled much in the interior of America, can
+easily mistake the character of one of the small edifices, with the
+gable to the street, ornamented with what are erroneously termed
+Venitian blinds, painted white, and with an air of tobacco-smoke and the
+shabby-genteel about it, notwithstanding its architectural pretensions.
+This is a lawyer’s office, thus brought edgeways to the street, as if
+its owner felt the necessity of approaching the thoroughfare of the
+world a little less directly than the rest of mankind. It often happens
+that these buildings, small as they usually are, contain two, or even
+three rooms; and that the occupants, if single men, sleep in them as
+well as transact their business. Such was the case with Timms, his
+“office,” as the structure was termed, containing his bed-room, in
+addition to an inner and an outer apartment devoted to the purposes of
+the law. Dunscomb was in the sanctum, while a single clerk and three or
+four clients, countrymen of decent exterior and very expecting
+countenances, occupied the outer room. John and Millington went into the
+presence with little or no hesitation.
+
+Wilmeter was not accustomed to much circumlocution; and he at once
+communicated the substance of the strange rumour that was in
+circulation, touching their interesting client. The uncle listened with
+intense attention, turning pale as the nephew proceeded. Instead of
+answering or making any comment, he sank upon a chair, leaned his hands
+on a table and his head on his hands, for fully a minute. All were
+struck with these signs of agitation; but no one dared to interfere. At
+length, this awkward pause came to a close, and Dunscomb raised his
+head, the face still pale and agitated. His eye immediately sought that
+of Millington.
+
+“You had heard this story, Michael?” demanded the counsellor.
+
+“I had, sir. John and I went together to try to trace it to some
+authority.”
+
+“With what success?”
+
+“None whatever. It is in every one’s mouth, but no one can say whence it
+came. Most rumours have a clue, but this seems to have none.”
+
+“Do you trace the connection which has struck—which has _oppressed_ me?”
+
+“I do, sir, and was so struck the moment I heard the rumour; for the
+facts are in singular conformity with what you communicated to me some
+months since.”
+
+“They are, indeed, and create a strong probability that there is more
+truth in this rumour than is commonly to be found in such reports. What
+has become of Timms?”
+
+“On the ground, ’Squire,” answered that worthy from the outer room—“just
+despatching my clerk”—this word he pronounced ‘clurk’ instead of
+‘clark,’ by way of showing he knew how to spell—“with a message to one
+of my men. He will find him, and be with us in a minute.”
+
+In the mean time, Timms had a word to say to each client in succession;
+getting rid of them all by merely telling each man, in his turn, there
+was not the shadow of doubt that he would get the better of his opponent
+in the trial that was so near at hand. It may be said here, as a proof
+how much a legal prophet may be mistaken, Timms was subsequently beaten
+in each of these three suits, to the great disappointment of as many
+anxious husbandmen, each of whom fondly counted on success, from the
+oily promises he had received.
+
+In a very few minutes the agent expected by Timms appeared in the
+office. He was plain-looking, rather rough and honest in appearance,
+with a most wily, villanous leer of the eye. His employer introduced him
+as Mr. Johnson.
+
+“Well, Johnson, what news?” commenced Timms. “These are friends to Mary
+Monson, and you can speak out, always avoiding partic’lar partic’lars.”
+
+Johnson leered, helped himself to a chew of tobacco with great
+deliberation, a trick he had when he needed a moment of thought before
+he made his revelations; bowed respectfully to the great York lawyer;
+took a good look at each of the young men, as if to measure their means
+of doing good or harm; and then condescended to reply.
+
+“Not very good,” was the answer. “That foreign instrument, which they
+say is just such an one as David used when he played before Saul, has
+done a good deal of harm. It won’t do, ’Squire Timms, to fiddle off an
+indictment for murder! Mankind gets engaged in such causes; and if they
+desire music on the trial, it’s the music of law and evidence that they
+want.”
+
+“Have you heard any reports concerning Mary Monson’s past life?—if so,
+can you tell where they come from?”
+
+Johnson knew perfectly well whence a portion of the rumours came; those
+which told in favour of the accused; but these he easily comprehended
+were not the reports to which Timms alluded.
+
+“Biberry is full of all sorts of rumours,” returned Johnson, cautiously,
+“as it commonly is in court-time. Parties like to make the most of their
+causes.”
+
+“You know my meaning—we have no time to lose; answer at once.”
+
+“I suppose I do know what you mean, ’Squire Timms; and I have heard the
+report. In my judgment, the person who set it afloat is no friend of
+Mary Monson’s.”
+
+“You think, then, it will do her damage?”
+
+“To the extent of her neck. Eve, before she touched the apple, could not
+have been acquitted in the face of such a rumour. I look upon your
+client as a lost woman, ’Squire Timms.”
+
+“Does that seem to be the common sentiment—that is, so far as you can
+judge?”
+
+“Among the jurors it does.”
+
+“The jurors!” exclaimed Dunscomb—“what can you possibly know of the
+opinions of the jurors, Mr. Johnson?”
+
+A cold smile passed over the man’s face, and he looked steadily at
+Timms, as if to catch a clue that might conduct him safely through the
+difficulties of his case. A frown that was plain enough to the agent,
+though admirably concealed from all others in the room, told him to be
+cautious.
+
+“I only know what I see and hear. Jurors are men, and other men can
+sometimes get an insight into their feelings, without running counter to
+law. I heard the rumour related myself, in the presence of seven of the
+panel. It’s true, nothing was said of the murder, or the arson; but such
+a history of the previous life of the accused was given as Lady
+Washington couldn’t have stood up ag’in, had she been livin’, and on
+trial for her life.”
+
+“Was anything said of insanity?” asked Dunscomb.
+
+“Ah, that plea will do no good, now-a-days; it’s worn out. They’d hang a
+murderer from Bedlam. Insanity has been overdone, and can’t be depended
+on any longer.”
+
+“Was anything said on the subject?” repeated the counsellor.
+
+“Why, to own the truth, there was; but, as that told _for_ Mary Monson,
+and not _ag’in_ her, it was not pressed.”
+
+“You think, then, that the story has been circulated by persons in
+favour of the prosecution?”
+
+“I know it. One of the other side said to me, not ten minutes
+ago—‘Johnson,’ said he—‘we are old friends’—he always speaks to me in
+that familiar way—‘Johnson,’ said he, ‘you’d a done better to have gi’n
+up. What’s five thousand dollars to the likes of her? and them you know
+is the figures.”
+
+“This is a pretty exhibition of the manner of administering justice!”
+exclaimed the indignant Dunscomb. “Long as I have been at the bar, I had
+no conception that such practices prevailed. At all events, this
+illegality will give a fair occasion to demand a new trial.”
+
+“Ay, the sharpest lawyer that ever crossed Harlem bridge can l’arn
+something in old Duke’s,” said Johnson, nodding “’Squire Timms will
+stand to _that_. As for new trials, I only wonder the lawyers don’t get
+one each time they are beaten; for the law would bear them out.”
+
+“I should like to know how, Master Johnson,” put in Timms. “That would
+be a secret worth knowing.”
+
+“A five-dollar note will buy it.”
+
+“There’s one of ten—now, tell me your secret.”
+
+“Well, ’Squire, you _be_ a gentleman, whatever folks may say and think
+of you. I’d rather do business with you, by one-half, than do business
+with Williams; notwithstanding he has such a name, up and down the
+country. Stick to it, and you’ll get the nomination to the Sinat’; and
+the nomination secured, you’re sure of the seat. Nomination is the
+government of Ameriky; and that’s secured by a wonderful few!”
+
+“I believe you are more than half right, Johnson”—Here Dunscomb, his
+nephew, and Millington left the office, quite unnoticed by the two
+worthies, who had entered on a subject as engrossing as that of Timms’s
+elevation to the Senate. And, by the way, as this book is very likely to
+be introduced to the world, it may be well enough to explain that we
+have two sorts of “Senates” in this country; wheels within wheels. There
+is the Senate of each State, without an exception now, we believe; and
+there is the Senate of the United States; the last being, in every
+sense, much the most dignified and important body. It being
+unfortunately true, that “nominations” are the real people of America,
+unless in cases which arouse the nation, the State Senates very often
+contain members altogether unsuited to their trusts; men who have
+obtained their seats by party legerdemain; and who had much better, on
+their own account, as well as on that of the public, be at home
+attending to their own private affairs. This much may be freely said by
+any citizen, of a State Senate, a collection of political partisans that
+commands no particular respect; but, it is very different with that of
+the United States; and we shall confine ourselves to saying, in
+reference to that body, which it is the fashion of the times to
+reverence as the most illustrious political body on earth, that it is
+not quite as obnoxious to this judgment as the best of its sisterhood of
+the several States; though very far from being immaculate, or what with
+a little more honesty in political leaders, it might be.
+
+“I believe you are half right, Johnson,” answered Timms—“Nomination _is_
+the government in this country; liberty, people, and all! Let a man get
+a nomination on the _right_ side, and he’s as good as elected. But, now
+for this mode of getting new trials, Johnson?”
+
+“Why, ’Squire, I’m amazed a man of your experience should ask the
+question! The law is sharp enough in keeping jurors, and constables, and
+door-keepers in their places; but the jurors, and constables, and
+door-keepers, don’t like to be kept in their places; and there isn’t one
+cause in ten, if they be of any length, in which the jurors don’t stray,
+or the constables don’t get into the jury-rooms. You can’t pound
+free-born Americans like cattle!”
+
+“I understand you, Johnson, and will take the hint. I knew there was a
+screw loose in this part of our jurisprudence, but did not think it as
+important as I now see it is. The fact is, Johnson, we have been telling
+the people so long that they are perfect, and every man that he, in his
+own person, is one of these people, that our citizens don’t like to
+submit to restraints that are disagreeable. Still, we are a law-abiding
+people, as every one says.”
+
+“That may be so, ’Squire; but we are not jury-room-abiding, nor be the
+constables outside-of-the-door-abiding, take my word for it. As you say,
+sir, every man is beginning to think he is a part of the people, and a
+great part, too; and he soon gets the notion that he can do as he has a
+mind to do.”
+
+“Where is Mr. Dunscomb?”
+
+“He stepp’d out with the young gentlemen, a few moments since. I dare
+say, ’Squire Timms, he’s gone to engage men to talk down this rumour
+about Mary Monson. That job should have been mine, by rights!”
+
+“Not he, Johnson—not he. Your grand lawyers don’t meddle with such
+matters; or, when they do, they pretend not to. No, he has gone to the
+gaol, and I must follow him.”
+
+At the gaol was Dunscomb, sure enough. Mary Monson, Anna and Sarah, with
+Marie Moulin, all dressed for the court; the former with beautiful
+simplicity, but still more beautiful care; the three last plainly, but
+in attire well suited to their respective stations in life. There was a
+common air of concern and anxiety; though Mary Monson still maintained
+her self-command. Indeed, the quiet of her manner was truly wonderful,
+for the circumstances.
+
+“Providence has placed me in a most trying situation,” she said; “but I
+see my course. Were I to shrink from this trial, evade it in any manner,
+a blot would rest on my name as long as I am remembered. It is
+indispensable that I should be _acquitted_. This, by God’s blessing on
+the innocent, must come to pass, and I may go forth and face my friends
+with a quiet mind.”
+
+“These friends ought to be known,” answered Dunscomb, “and should be
+here to countenance you with their presence.”
+
+“They!—He!—Never—while I live, never!”
+
+“You see this young man, Mary Monson—I believe he is known to you, by
+name?”
+
+Mary Monson turned her face towards Millington, smiled coldly, and
+seemed undisturbed.
+
+“What is he to me?—Here is the woman of his heart;—let him turn to
+_her_, with all his care.”
+
+“You understand me, Mary Monson—it is important that I should be assured
+of _that_.”
+
+“Perhaps I do, Mr. Dunscomb, and perhaps I do _not_. You are enigmatical
+this morning; I cannot be certain.”
+
+“In one short half-hour the bell of yonder court-house will ring, when
+you are to be tried for your life.”
+
+The cheek of the accused blanched a little; but its colour soon
+returned, while her eye assumed a look even prouder than common.
+
+“Let it come”—was her quiet answer—“the innocent need not tremble. These
+two pure beings have promised to accompany me to the place of trial, and
+to give me _their_ countenance. Why, then, should I hesitate?”
+
+“I shall go, too”—said Millington, steadily, like one whose mind was
+made up.
+
+“You!—Well, for the sake of this dear one, you may go, too.”
+
+“For no other reason, Mary?”
+
+“For no other reason, sir. I am aware of the interest you and Mr.
+Wilmeter have taken in my case; and I thank you both from the bottom of
+my heart. Ah! kindness was never lost on me——”
+
+A flood of tears, for the first time since her imprisonment, so far as
+any one knew, burst from this extraordinary being; and, for a few
+minutes, she became woman in the fullest meaning of the term.
+
+During this interval Dunscomb retired, perceiving that it was useless to
+urge anything on his client while weeping almost convulsively; and aware
+that he had several things to do before the court met. Besides, he left
+the place quite satisfied on an all-important point; and he and
+Millington walked by themselves towards the court-house, their heads
+close together, and their voices reduced nearly to whispers.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XX.
+
+ “I blush, and am confounded to appear
+ Before thy presence, Cato.”
+ “What’s thy crime?”
+ “I am a Numidian.”
+ _Cato._
+
+
+Within the half hour mentioned by Dunscomb the court-house bell rang,
+and there was a rush towards that building, in order to secure seats for
+the approaching trial. All that has been related in the preceding
+chapter occurred between the hours of six and nine that morning, it
+being one of the “ways of the hour” in the march of improvement, to
+drive the administration of justice with as near an approach to railroad
+speed as is practicable. Many of the modern judges go to work as early
+as eight in the morning—perhaps most do in the country circuits—and
+continue to call causes until nine and ten at night, illustrating the
+justice of the land by means of agents who are half asleep, and stupid
+from fatigue.
+
+We have said that everything like dignity, except as it is to be found
+in the high character of its duties, and the manner in which they are
+performed, has been banished from the courts of New York. Even on this
+solemn occasion, when a human being was to be put on trial for her life,
+and she a woman, there was no departure from the naked simplicity that
+has been set up on the pedestal of reason, in open opposition to the
+ancient accessories by which the Law asserted its power. It remains to
+be seen whether human nature has not been as much over-estimated under
+the new arrangement as it was underrated by the old. There is a medium,
+in truth, that it is ever safe to respect; and there is reason to
+apprehend that in throwing away the useless vestments of idle parade,
+those necessary to decency were cast aside with them.
+
+Quite a fourth of the audience assembled in Duke’s county court-house,
+on this occasion, were females. The curiosity, which is said to be so
+natural to the sex, was, on this occasion, quickened by the peculiar
+circumstances of the case, a woman having been murdered, and a woman
+accused of having committed the offence. It was said, however, that many
+were summoned as witnesses, it being generally understood that the state
+had subpœnaed the country far and near.
+
+At length, a general and expecting silence succeeded the bustle of the
+crowds entering and obtaining seats, and the eyes of the spectators were
+very generally turned towards the door, in the wish to get a glimpse of
+the principal personage in the approaching scene. We know not why it is
+that the spectacle of others’ woes has so great a charm for most
+persons. Nature has given us sympathy, and compassion, and a desire to
+alleviate misery; yet most of us like to look upon it, as a mere
+spectacle, when we have neither the wish nor the power to be more than
+useless spectators. Thousands will assemble to see a man hanged, when
+all know that the law has a grasp too tight to be unloosed, and that the
+circle of the gallows is no place for feelings of commiseration. But, so
+it is; and many a female, that day, who would have gladly alleviated any
+distress that it was in her power to lessen, sat there, a curious and
+interested observer of all that passed; to note the workings of the
+countenance, the writhings of the inner soul, if any such there should
+be, or the gleams of hope, that might, at intervals, lighten the gloom
+of despair.
+
+The court was occupied for half an hour with hearing motions, and in
+granting orders, nothing seeming to impede its utilitarian progress.
+Then the movement within the bar ceased, and an expectation that was
+even solemn, fell on the whole mass of human beings that were collected
+in that narrow space.
+
+“This is the day for which the trial of Mary Monson was, by arrangement,
+set down,” observed the judge. “Mr. District Attorney, are you ready?”
+
+“We are, sir—entirely so, I believe. If the court please, Mr. Williams
+and Mr. Wright will be associated with me in this case. It is one of
+importance, and I do not like the responsibility of trying it alone.”
+
+“The court has so understood it—who is for the accused?”
+
+“I am retained to defend Mary Monson,” answered Dunscomb, rising with
+dignity, and speaking with the self-possession of one long accustomed to
+the courts. “Mr. Timms will assist me.”
+
+“Are you ready, gentlemen?”
+
+“I believe we are, your honour; though the prisoner has not yet been
+arraigned.”
+
+“Mr. District Attorney, we will proceed.”
+
+As the sheriff now left the room, in person, rather an unusual thing in
+bringing a prisoner into court, expectation was at its height. In the
+midst of a breathing silence, the door swung round—court-room doors are
+now made to swing like turnpikes, in order to prevent noise—and Mr. Gott
+entered, followed by Mary Monson, Anna, Sarah, Marie Moulin, and the two
+young men. The kind-hearted wife of the sheriff was already in the room,
+and, by means of a constable, had managed to keep seats reserved for
+those who might attend the prisoner. To these seats the party now
+retired, with the exception of Marie Moulin, who attended her mistress
+within the bar.
+
+Every observer was struck with the unexpected air, manner, and attire of
+the prisoner. Dunscomb saw, at a glance, that her appearance had made a
+most favourable impression. This was something, and he hoped it might
+counteract much of the manœuvring of Davis and Williams. The judge, in
+particular, a kind-hearted and very well meaning man, was taken
+altogether by surprise. There is nothing in which there is more
+freemasonry than in the secret symptoms of social castes. Each
+individual is more or less of a judge of these matters, up to the level
+of his own associations, while all beyond is mystery. It happened that
+the judge, now about to try Mary Monson, belonged to an old, historical,
+New York family, a thing of rather rare occurrence in the great
+movements of the times, and he possessed an hereditary tact in
+discerning persons of his own habits of life. Almost at a glance, he
+perceived that the prisoner had the air, manners, countenance and
+finesse, of one accustomed, from infancy, to good company. The reader
+may smile at this, but he must pardon us if we say the smile will betray
+ignorance, rather than denote the philosophy that he may fancy controls
+his opinions. Dunscomb was much gratified when the judge rather
+earnestly interposed against the act of the sheriff, who was about to
+place the prisoner at the bar in the little barricaded space allotted to
+the use of ordinary criminals, directing him to—
+
+“Give the prisoner a chair _within_ the bar, Mr. Sheriff. Gentlemen, be
+so good as to make room, that the accused may sit near her counsel. Mr.
+Attorney, let the prisoner be arraigned, as soon as she has rested from
+the fatigue and agitation of appearing here.”
+
+This ceremony, now little more than a blank form, was soon ended, and
+the plea of “not guilty” was entered. The next step was to empannel the
+jury, a task of infinite difficulty, and one that has got to be so much
+an out-work, in the proceedings in criminal cases, as almost to baffle
+the powers of the law. It is no unusual thing for the time of the court
+to be occupied a week or two, in this preliminary proceeding, until the
+evil has got to be so crying as to induce the executive to recommend
+that the legislature may devise some mode of relief. One of the most
+besetting vices of all American legislation, in those cases in which
+abuses are not the offspring of party, is a false philanthropy, in which
+the wicked and evil doer has been protected at the expense of the
+upright and obedient. The abuse just mentioned is one of those in which
+the bottom has been reached somewhat sooner than common; but, it is
+hazarding little to predict, that more than half which has been done
+within the last few years, under the guise of liberty and philanthropy,
+will have to be undone, ere the citizen will be left to the quiet
+enjoyment of his rights, or can receive the just protection of the laws.
+
+One of the common-sense and real improvements of the day, is to swear
+the jurors, in all the causes that are to be tried, by one process. This
+is a saving of time; and though the ceremony might be, and ought to be
+made, much more solemn and impressive than it is, as by causing all
+other business to cease, and to make every one present rise, and stand
+in reverential silence, while the name of the God of heaven and earth is
+invoked, still it is a great improvement on the ancient mode, and has
+reason to sustain it. It gives us pleasure to note such circumstances in
+the “ways of the hour,” whenever a sense of right can induce one who
+loathes the flattery of the people quite as much as he loathes that of
+princes, and flattery of all sorts, to say aught in favour of what has
+been done, or is yet doing around him.
+
+The clerk called the name of Jonas Wattles, the first juror drawn. This
+man was a respectable mechanic, of no great force in the way of mind,
+but meaning well, and reputed honest. Timms gave the senior counsel a
+look, which the other understood to mean, “he may do.” No objection
+being made on account of the state, Jonas Wattles took his seat in the
+jury-box, which was thought great good luck for a capital case.
+
+“Ira Trueman,” cried the clerk.
+
+A meaning pause succeeded the announcement of this name. Trueman was a
+person of considerable local influence, and would probably carry great
+weight in a body composed principally of men even less instructed than
+he was himself. What was more, both Timms and Williams knew that their
+respective agents had been hard at work to gain his ear, though neither
+knew exactly with what degree of success. It was consequently equally
+hazardous to accept or to oppose, and the two legal gladiators stood at
+bay, each waiting for the other to betray his opinion of the man. The
+judge soon became wearied, and inquired if the juror was accepted. It
+was a somewhat amusing sight, now, to observe the manner in which Timms
+proceeded with Williams, and Williams met Timms.
+
+“I should like to hear the gentleman’s objections to this juror,”
+observed Timms, “as I do not see that his challenge is peremptory.”
+
+“I have not challenged the juror at all,” answered Williams, “but have
+understood the challenge comes from the defence.”
+
+“This is extr’or’nary! The gentleman looks defiance at the jurors, and
+now declares he does not challenge!”
+
+“Looks! If looks made a challenge, the state might at once suffer these
+foul murders to go unpunished, for I am sure the gentleman’s countenance
+is a perfect thunder-cloud—”
+
+“I trust that counsel will recollect the gravity of this cause, and
+suffer it to be conducted with the decorum that ought never to be
+wanting in a court of justice,” interposed the judge. “Unless there is a
+direct challenge, from one side or the other, the juror must take his
+seat, of course.”
+
+“I should like to ask the juror a question or two,” Timms replied,
+speaking very cautiously, and like one who was afraid of hurting the
+feelings of the party under examination; and in truth wary, lest on
+investigation he might discover that Trueman was likely to be the sort
+of person he wanted. “You have been at Biberry, juror, since the opening
+of the court?”
+
+Trueman nodded his head.
+
+“Of course, you have been round among your friends and neighbours, that
+you have met with here?”
+
+Another nod from Trueman, with a sort of affirmative grunt.
+
+“You have probably heard more or less said concerning Mary Monson—I mean
+in a legal and proper way?”
+
+A third nod of assent.
+
+“Can you speak anything, in particular, that has been said in your
+presence?”
+
+Trueman seemed to tax his memory; then he raised his head, and answered
+deliberately and with great clearness,
+
+“I was going from the tavern to the court-house, when I met David
+Johnson—”
+
+“Never mind those particulars, Mr. Trueman,” interrupted Timms, who saw
+that the juror had been talking with one of his own most confidential
+agents—“what the court wishes to know is, if any one has been reporting
+circumstances _unfavourable_ to Mary Monson in your presence?”
+
+“Or in her _favour_,” put in Williams, with a sneer.
+
+“Juror,” interposed the judge—“tell us if any one has spoken to you on
+the merits of this case—for or against?”
+
+“_Merits_”—repeated Trueman, seeming to reflect again—“No, your honour;
+I can’t say that there has.”
+
+Now, this was as bold a falsehood as was ever uttered; but Trueman
+reconciled the answer to his conscience by choosing to consider that the
+conversation he had heard had been on the _demerits_ of the accused.
+
+“I do not see, gentlemen, that you can challenge for cause,” observed
+his Honour—“unless you have further facts.”
+
+“Perhaps we have, sir,” answered Williams. “You were saying, Mr.
+Trueman, that you met David Johnson as you were going from the inn to
+the court-house—Did I understand you correctly?”
+
+“Just so, ’Squire. I had been having a long talk with Peter Titus”—one
+of Williams’s most active and confidential agents—“when Johnson came up.
+Johnson says, says he, ‘a pleasant day, gentlemen—I’m glad to see you
+both out; for the faces of old friends is getting scarce——’”
+
+“I see no objection to the juror’s being received,” Williams carelessly
+remarked; satisfied that Titus had not neglected his duty in that long
+talk.
+
+“Yes, he is as good a juror as Duke’s can furnish,” observed Timms,
+perfectly sure Johnson had turned to account the advantage of having the
+last word. Trueman was accordingly admitted to the box, as the second
+man of the twelve. The two managers of this cause were both right. Titus
+_had_ crammed his old acquaintance Trueman with all that was circulating
+to the prejudice of the prisoner; expressing surprise when he had said
+all he had to say, at hearing that his friend was on the pannel. “Well,”
+said Titus, as Johnson approached, “if questioned, you’ll remember I
+said I didn’t dream of your being a juryman—but, just as like as not,
+you’ll not be drawn for the case at all.” On the other hand, Johnson was
+quite eloquent and pathetic in giving his old acquaintance the history
+of Mary Monson’s case, whom he pronounced “a most injured and parsecuted
+woman.” Trueman, a shrewd, managing fellow in general, fancied himself
+just as impartial and fit to try the cause, after he had heard the
+stories of the two men, as he had ever been; but in this he was
+mistaken. It requires an unusually clear head, exceedingly high
+principles, and a great knowledge of men, to maintain perfect
+impartiality in these cases; and certainly Trueman was not the man to
+boast of all these rare qualities. In general, the last word tells; but
+it sometimes happens that first impressions become difficult to
+eradicate. Such was the fact in the present instance; Trueman taking his
+seat in the jury-box with an exceedingly strong bias against the
+accused.
+
+We are aware that these are not the colours in which it is the fashion
+to delineate the venerable and much vaunted institution of the jury;
+certainly a most efficient agent in curtailing the power of a prince;
+but just as certainly a most irresponsible, vague, and quite often an
+unprincipled means of administering the law, when men are not urged to
+the desire of doing right by political pressure from without, and are
+left to the perverse and free workings of a very evil nature. We
+represent things as we believe them to exist, knowing that scarce a case
+of magnitude occurs in which the ministers of corruption are not at work
+among the jurors, or a verdict rendered in which the fingers of the
+Father of Lies might not be traced, were the veil removed, and the facts
+exposed to the light of day. It is true, that in trials for life, the
+persecution of the prisoner rarely takes so direct a form as has been
+represented in the case of Mary Monson; but the press and the tongue do
+an incalculable amount of evil, even in such cases; all the ancient
+safeguards of the law having been either directly removed by
+ill-considered legislation, or rendered dead-letters by the “ways of the
+hour.”
+
+It was regarded as exceedingly good progress to get two jurors into the
+box, in a capital case, in the first half-hour. His Honour had evidently
+resigned himself to a twenty-four hours’ job; and great was his
+satisfaction when he saw Wattles and Trueman safely seated on their hard
+and uncomfortable seats; for it would almost seem that discomfort has
+been brought into the court-houses as a sort of auxiliary to the old
+practice of starving a jury into a verdict.
+
+Whether it was owing to a suspicion, on the part of Timms, of the truth
+in regard to his being over-reached in the case of Trueman, or to some
+other cause, he raised no objections to either of the six jurors next
+called. His moderation was imitated by Williams. Then followed two
+peremptory challenges; one in behalf of the prisoner, and one in behalf
+of the people, as it is termed. This was getting on so much better than
+everybody expected, that all were in good humour; and it is not
+exceeding the truth if we add, in a slight degree more disposed to view
+the prisoner and her case with favour. On such trifles do human
+decisions very often depend.
+
+All this time, fully an hour, did Mary Monson sit in resigned submission
+to her fate, composed, attentive, and singularly lady-like. The
+spectators were greatly divided in their private speculations on her
+guilt or innocence. Some saw in her quiet manner, curious interest in
+the proceedings, and unchanging colour, proofs not only of a hardened
+conscience, but of an experience in scenes similar to that in which she
+was now engaged; overlooking all the probabilities, to indulge in
+conjectures so severe against one so young.
+
+“Well, gentlemen,” cried the judge, “time is precious. Let us proceed.”
+
+The ninth juror was drawn, and it proved to be a country trader of the
+name of Hatfield. This person was known to be a man of considerable
+influence among persons of his own class, and to have a reputation for
+judgment, if not for principles. “They might as well send the other
+eleven home, and let Hatfield pronounce the verdict,” whispered one
+lawyer to another; “there is no material in that box to withstand his
+logic.”
+
+“Then he will hold this young woman’s life in his hand,” was the reply.
+
+“It will be pretty much so. The glorious institution of the jury is
+admirably devised to bring about such results.”
+
+“You forget the judge. He has the last word, you will remember.”
+
+“Thank God it is so; else would our condition be terrible. Lynch law is
+preferable to laws administered by jurors who fancy themselves so many
+legislators.”
+
+“It cannot be concealed that the spirit of the times has invaded the
+jury-box; and the court has not one-half its ancient influence. I should
+not like to have this Hatfield against me.”
+
+It would seem that Williams was of the same way of thinking; for he
+muttered to himself, desired the juror not to enter the box, and seemed
+to be pondering on the course he ought to pursue. The truth was that he
+himself had recently sued Hatfield for debt, and the proceedings had
+been a little vindictive. One of the dangers that your really skilful
+lawyer has to guard against is the personal animosity that is engendered
+by his own professional practice. Many men have minds so constituted
+that their opinions are affected by prejudices thus created; and they do
+not scruple to transfer their hostility from the counsel to the cause he
+is employed to defend. It is consequently incumbent on the prudent
+lawyer to make his estimate of character with judgment, and be as sure
+as the nature of the case will allow, that his client is not to suffer
+for his own acts. As hostility to the counsel is not a legal objection
+to a juror, Williams was under the necessity of presenting such as would
+command the attention of the court.
+
+“I wish the juror may be sworn true answers to make”—said Williams.
+
+Timms now pricked up his ears; for, if it were of importance for
+Williams to _oppose_ the reception of this particular individual, it was
+probably of importance to Mary Monson to have him received. On this
+principle, therefore, he was ready to resist the attack on the juror,
+who was at once sworn.
+
+“You reside in the adjoining town of Blackstone, I believe, Mr.
+Hatfield?” asked Williams.
+
+A simple assent was the reply.
+
+“In practice there, in one of the learned professions?”
+
+Hatfield was certain his interrogator knew better, for Williams had been
+in his store fifty times; but he answered with the same innocent manner
+as that with which the question was put.
+
+“I’m in trade.”
+
+“In trade!—Keep a store, I dare say, Mr. Hatfield?”
+
+“I do—and one in which I have sold you hundreds myself.”
+
+A general smile succeeded this sally; and Timms looked round at the
+audience, with his nose pointing upwards, as if he scented his game.
+
+“I dare say—I pay as I go,” returned Williams; “and my memory is not
+loaded with such transactions——”
+
+“Mr. Williams,” interrupted the judge, a little impatiently, “the time
+of the court is very precious.”
+
+“So is the dignity of the outraged laws to the State, your Honour. We
+shall soon be through, sir—Many people in the habit of frequenting your
+store, Mr. Hatfield?”
+
+“As much so as is usual in the country.”
+
+“Ten or fifteen at a time, on some occasions?”
+
+“I dare say there may be.”
+
+“Has the murder of Peter Goodwin ever been discussed by your customers
+in your presence?”
+
+“I don’t know but it has—such a thing is very likely; but one hears so
+much, I can’t say.”
+
+“Did you never join in such a discussion yourself?”
+
+“I may, or I may not.”
+
+“I ask you, now, distinctly, if you had no such discussion on the 26th
+of May last, between the hours of eleven and twelve in the forenoon?”
+
+The sharpness of the manner in which this question was put, the
+minuteness of the details, and the particularity of the interrogatories,
+quite confounded the juror, who answered accordingly.
+
+“Such a thing _might_ have taken place, and it might _not_. I do not
+remember.”
+
+“Is Jonas White (a regular country loafer) in the habit of being in your
+store?”
+
+“He is—it is a considerable lounge for labouring men.”
+
+“And Stephen Hook?”
+
+“Yes; he is there a good deal of his time.”
+
+“Now, I beg you to remember—did not such a conversation take place, in
+which you bore a part, between the hours of eleven and twelve in the
+forenoon; White and Hook being present?”
+
+Hatfield seemed perplexed. He very conscientiously desired to tell the
+truth, having nothing to gain by an opposite course; but he really had
+no recollection of any such discussion, as well might be the case; no
+such conversation ever having taken place. Williams knew the habits of
+the loafers in question, had selected the time a little at random, and
+adopted the particularity merely as a means of confounding the juror, of
+whom he was seriously afraid.
+
+“Such a thing _may_ have happened,” answered Hatfield, after a pause—“I
+don’t remember.”
+
+“It _may_ have happened—Now, sir, allow me to ask you if, in that
+conversation, you did not express an opinion that you did not, and
+_could_ not believe that a lady educated and delicate, like the prisoner
+at the bar, did, or would, under any circumstances, commit the offence
+with which Mary Monson is charged?”
+
+Hatfield grew more and more confounded; for Williams’s manner was more
+and more confident and cool. In this state of feeling he suffered the
+reply to escape him—
+
+“I _may_ have said as much—it seems quite natural.”
+
+“I presume, after this,” observed Williams, carelessly, “your Honour
+will order the juror not to enter the box?”
+
+“Not so fast—not so fast, brother Williams,” put in Timms, who felt it
+was now his turn to say a word, and who was thumbing a small
+pocket-almanac very diligently the while.
+
+“This discussion, I understand the learned gentleman, took place in the
+juror’s store?”
+
+“It did, sir,” was the answer—“a place where such discussions are very
+apt to occur. Hook and White loaf half their time away in that store.”
+
+“All quite likely—very likely to happen—Mr. Hatfield, do you open your
+store on the Sabbath?”
+
+“Certainly not—I am very particular to do nothing of the sort.”
+
+“A church-member, I suppose, sir?”
+
+“An undeserving one, sir.”
+
+“Never, on any account, in the practice of opening your store of a
+Sabbath, I understand you to say?”
+
+“Never, except in cases of sickness. We must all respect the wants of
+the sick.”
+
+“Are Hook and White in the habit of loafing about on your premises of a
+Sunday?”
+
+“Never—I wouldn’t tolerate it. The store is a public place of a
+week-day, and they can come in if they please; but I wouldn’t tolerate
+such visits on the Sabbath.”
+
+“Yet, if the court please, the 26th of last May happened to fall on the
+Sabbath day! My brother Williams forgot to look into the almanac before
+he made up his brief.”
+
+Here Timms sat down, cocking his nose still higher, quite certain of
+having made a capital hit towards his views on the Senate, though he
+actually gained nothing for the cause. There was a general simper in the
+audience; and Williams felt that he had lost quite as much as his
+opponent had gained.
+
+“Well, gentlemen, time is precious—let us get on,” interposed the
+judge—“Is the juror to enter the box or not?”
+
+“I trust a trifling mistake as to the day of the month is not about to
+defeat the ends of justice,” answered Williams, raising himself higher
+on his stilts, as he found himself sinking lower in his facts. “I put it
+on the 26th by a miscalculation, I can now see. It was probably on the
+25th—Saturday is the loafer’s holiday;—yes, it must have been on
+Saturday the 25th that the conversation took place.”
+
+“Do you remember this fact, juror?”
+
+“I remember, now so much has been said on the subject,” answered
+Hatfield, firmly, “that I was not at home at all between the 20th and
+the 27th of May last. I could have held no such conversation on the 25th
+or 26th of May; nor do I know that I think Mary Monson either innocent
+or guilty.”
+
+As all this was true, and was uttered with the confidence of truth, it
+made an impression on the audience. Williams doubted; for so fine was
+his skill in managing men, that he often succeeded in gaining jurors by
+letting them understand he suspected them of being prejudiced against
+his case. With the weak and vain, this mode of proceeding has frequently
+more success than a contrary course; the party suspected being doubly
+anxious to illustrate his impartiality in his verdict. This was what
+Williams, and indeed the bar, very generally calls “standing so erect as
+to lean backward.”
+
+“Mr. Williams,” said the judge, “you must challenge peremptorily, or the
+juror will be received.”
+
+“No, your Honour, the State will accept the juror; I now see that my
+information has been wrong.”
+
+“We challenge for the defence,” said Timms, deciding on the instant, on
+the ground that if Williams was so ready to change his course of
+proceeding, there must be a good reason for it. “Stand aside, juror.”
+
+“Peter Bailey,” called the clerk.
+
+No objection being made, Peter Bailey took his seat. The two next jurors
+were also received unquestioned; and it only remained to draw the
+twelfth man. This was so much better luck than commonly happens in
+capital cases, that everybody seemed more and more pleased, as if all
+were anxious to come to the testimony. The judge evidently felicitated
+himself, rubbing his hands with very great satisfaction. The bar,
+generally, entered into his feelings; for it helped along its business.
+
+“On the whole,” observed one of the lawyers who was in extensive
+practice, speaking to another at his side, “I would as soon try one of
+these murder-cases as to go through with a good water-cause.”
+
+“Oh! _they_ are excruciating! Get into a good water-cause, with about
+thirty witnesses on a side, and you are in for a week. I was three days
+at one, only last circuit.”
+
+“Are there many witnesses in this case?”
+
+“About forty, I hear,” glancing towards the benches where most of the
+females sat. “They tell me there will be a very formidable array as to
+character. Ladies from York by the dozen!”
+
+“They will be wanted, if all they say is true.”
+
+“If all you hear is true, we have reached a new epoch in the history of
+mankind. I have never seen the day when half of that I hear is more than
+half true. I set the rest down as ‘leather and prunella.’”
+
+“Robert Robinson,” cried the clerk.
+
+A respectable-looking man of fifty presented himself, and was about to
+enter the box without stopping to ascertain whether or not he would be
+welcome there. This person had much more the air of the world than
+either of the other jurors; and with those who are not very particular,
+or very discriminating in such matters, might readily enough pass for a
+gentleman. He was neatly dressed, wore gloves, and had certain chains,
+an eye-glass, and other appliances of the sort, that it is not usual to
+see at a country circuit. Neither Williams nor Timms seemed to know the
+juror; but each looked surprised, and undecided how he ought to act. The
+peremptory challenges were not exhausted; and there was a common impulse
+in the two lawyers, first to accept one so respectable in mien, and
+attire, and general air; and then, by a sudden revolution of feeling, to
+reject one of whom they knew nothing.
+
+“I suppose the summons is all right,” Williams carelessly remarked. “The
+juror resides in Duke’s?”
+
+“I do,” was the answer.
+
+“Is a freeholder, and entitled to serve?”
+
+A somewhat supercilious smile came over the countenance of the juror;
+and he looked round at the person who could presume to make such a
+remark, with something very like an air of contempt.
+
+“I am _Doctor_ Robinson,” he then observed, laying emphasis on his
+learned appellation.
+
+Williams seemed at a loss; for, to say the truth, he had never heard of
+any such physician in the county. Timms was quite as much mystified;
+when a member of the bar leaned across a table, and whispered to
+Dunscomb that the juror was a celebrated quack, who made pills that
+would cure all diseases; and who, having made a fortune, had bought a
+place in the county, and was to all legal purposes entitled to serve.
+
+“The juror can stand aside,” said Dunscomb, rising in his slow dignified
+manner. “If it please the court, _we_ challenge peremptorily.”
+
+Timms looked still more surprised; and when told the reason for the
+course taken by his associate, he was even sorry.
+
+“The man is a _quack_,” said Dunscomb, “and there is quackery enough in
+this system of a jury, without calling in assistance from the more open
+practitioners.”
+
+“I’m afraid, ’Squire, he is just the sort of man we want. I can work on
+such spirits, when I fail altogether with more everyday-kind of men. A
+little quackery does no harm to some causes.”
+
+“Ira Kingsland,” called out the clerk.
+
+Ira Kingsland appeared, a staid, solid, respectable husbandman—one of
+those it is a mistaken usage of the country to term yeomen; and of a
+class that contains more useful information, practical good sense and
+judgment, than might be imagined, under all the circumstances.
+
+As no objection was raised, this juror was received, and the pannel was
+complete. After cautioning the jurors about listening and talking, in
+the usual way, the judge adjourned the court for dinner.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXI.
+
+ “I know it is dreadful! I feel the
+ Anguish of thy generous soul—but I was born
+ To murder all who love me.”
+ _George Barnwell._
+
+
+Dunscomb was followed to his room by Millington, between whom and
+himself, John Wilmeter had occasion to remark, a sudden intimacy had
+sprung up. The counsellor had always liked his student, or he would
+never have consented to give him his niece; but it was not usual for him
+to hold as long, or seemingly as confidential conversations with the
+young man, as now proved to be the case. When the interview was over,
+Millington mounted a horse and galloped off, in the direction of town,
+in that almost exploded manner of moving. Time was, and that within the
+memory of man, when the gentlemen of New York were in their saddles
+hours each day; but all this is changing with the times. We live in an
+age of buggies, the gig, phaeton, and curricle having disappeared, and
+the utilitarian vehicle just named having taken their places. Were it
+not for the women, who still have occasion for closer carriages, the
+whole nation would soon be riding about in buggies! Beresford is made,
+by one of his annotators, to complain that everything like individuality
+is becoming lost in England, and that the progress of great improvements
+must be checked, or independent thinkers will shortly be out of the
+question. If this be true of England, what might not be said on the same
+subject of America? Here, where there is so much community as to have
+completely engulphed everything like individual thought and action, we
+take it the most imitative people on earth are to be found. This truth
+is manifested in a thousand things. Every town is getting its Broadway,
+thus defeating the very object of names; to-day the country is dotted
+with Grecian temples, to-morrow with Gothic villages, all the purposes
+of domestic architecture being sadly forgotten in each; and, as one of
+the Spensers is said to have introduced the article of dress which bears
+his name, by betting he could set the fashion of cutting off the skirts
+of the coat, so might one who is looked up to, in this country, almost
+set the fashion of cutting off the nose.
+
+Dunscomb, however, was a perfectly original thinker. This he manifested
+in his private life, as well as in his public profession. His opinions
+were formed in his own way, and his acts were as much those of the
+individual as circumstances would at all allow. His motives in
+despatching Millington so suddenly to town were known to himself, and
+will probably be shown to the reader, as the narrative proceeds.
+
+“Well, sir, how are we getting on?” asked John Wilmeter, throwing
+himself into a chair, in his uncle’s room, with a heated and excited
+air. “I hope things are going to your mind?”
+
+“We have got a jury, Jack, and that is all that can be said in the
+matter,” returned the uncle, looking over some papers as the
+conversation proceeded. “It is good progress, in a capital case, to get
+a jury empannelled in the first forenoon.”
+
+“You’ll have the verdict in, by this time to-morrow, sir, I’m afraid!”
+
+“Why afraid, boy? The sooner the poor woman is acquitted, the better
+will it be for _her_.”
+
+“Ay, if she be acquitted; but I fear everything is looking dark, in the
+case.”
+
+“And this from _you_, who fancied the accused an angel of light, only a
+week since!”
+
+“She is certainly a most fascinating creature, _when she chooses to
+be_,” said John, with emphasis; “but she does not always choose to
+appear in that character.”
+
+“She is most certainly a fascinating creature, _when she chooses to
+be_!” returned the uncle, with very much the same sort of emphasis.
+
+But Dunscomb’s manner was very different from that of his nephew. John
+was excited, petulant, irritable, and in a state to feel and say
+disagreeable things; dissatisfied with himself, and consequently not
+very well pleased with others. A great change had come over his
+feelings, truly, within the last week, and the image of the gentle Anna
+Updyke was fast taking the place of that of Mary Monson. As the latter
+seldom saw the young man, and then only at the grate, the former had got
+to be the means of communication between the youthful advocate and his
+client, throwing them constantly in each other’s way. On such occasions
+Anna was always so truthful, so gentle, so earnest, so natural, and so
+sweetly feminine, that John must have been made of stone, to remain
+insensible of her excellent qualities. If women did but know how much
+their power, not to say charms, are increased by gentleness, by
+tenderness in lieu of coldness of manner, by keeping within the natural
+circle of their sex’s feelings, instead of aping an independence and
+spirit more suited to men than to their own condition, we should see
+less of discord in domestic life, happier wives, better mothers, and
+more reasonable mistresses. No one knew this better than Dunscomb, who
+had not been an indifferent spectator of his nephew’s course, and who
+fancied this a favourable moment to say a word to him, on a subject that
+he felt to be important.
+
+“This _choosing_ to be is a very material item in the female character,”
+continued the counsellor, after a moment of silent and profound thought.
+“Whatever else you may do, my boy, in the way of matrimony, marry a
+gentle and feminine woman. Take my word for it, there is no true
+happiness with any other.”
+
+“Women have their tastes and caprices, and like to indulge them, sir, as
+well as ourselves.”
+
+“All that may be true, but avoid what is termed a woman of independent
+spirit. They are usually so many devils incarnate. If they happen to
+unite moneyed independence with moral independence, I am not quite
+certain that their tyranny is not worse than that of Nero. A tyrannical
+woman is worse than a tyrannical man, because she is apt to be
+capricious. At one moment she will blow hot, at the next cold; at one
+time she will give, at the next clutch back her gifts; to-day she is the
+devoted and obedient wife, to-morrow the domineering partner. No, no,
+Jack, marry a _woman_; which means a kind, gentle, affectionate,
+thoughtful creature, whose heart is so full of _you_, there is no room
+in it for herself. Marry just such a girl as Anna Updyke, if you can get
+her.”
+
+“I thank you, sir,” answered John, colouring. “I dare say the advice is
+good, and I shall bear it in mind. What would you think of a woman like
+Mary Monson, for a wife?”
+
+Dunscomb turned a vacant look at his nephew, as if his thoughts were far
+away, and his chin dropped on his bosom. This abstraction lasted but a
+minute, however when the young man got his answer.
+
+“Mary Monson _is_ a wife, and I fear a bad one,” returned the
+counsellor. “If she be the woman I suppose her to be, her history, brief
+as it is, is a very lamentable one. John, you are my sister’s son, and
+my heir. You are nearer to me than any other human being, in one sense,
+though I certainly love Sarah quite as well as I do you, if not a little
+better. These ties of feeling are strange links in our nature! At one
+time I loved your mother with a tenderness such as a father might feel
+for a child; in short, with a brother’s love—a brother’s love for a
+young, and pretty, and good girl, and I thought I could never love
+another as I loved Elizabeth. She returned my affection, and there was a
+period of many years when it was supposed that we were to pass down the
+vale of life in company, as brother and sister—old bachelor and old
+maid. Your father deranged all this, and at thirty-four my sister left
+me. It was like pulling my heart-strings out of me, and so much the
+worse, boy, because they were already sore.”
+
+John started. His uncle spoke hoarsely, and a shudder, that was so
+violent as to be perceptible to his companion, passed through his frame.
+The cheeks of the counsellor were usually colourless; now they appeared
+absolutely pallid.
+
+“This, then,” thought John Wilmeter, “is the insensible old bachelor,
+who was thought to live altogether for himself. How little does the
+world really know of what is passing within it! Well may it be said,
+‘here is a skeleton in every house.’”
+
+Dunscomb soon recovered his self-command. Reaching forth an arm, he took
+his nephew’s hand, and said affectionately—
+
+“I am not often thus, Jack, as you must know. A vivid recollection of
+days that have long been past came freshly over me, and I believe I have
+been a little unmanned. To you, my early history is a blank; but a very
+few words will serve to tell all you need ever know. I was about your
+time of life, Jack, when I loved, courted, and became engaged to Mary
+Millington—Michael’s great-aunt. Is this new to you?”
+
+“Not entirely, sir; Sarah has told me something of the same sort—you
+know the girls get hold of family anecdotes sooner than we men.”
+
+“She then probably told you that I was cruelly, heartlessly jilted, for
+a richer man. Mary married, and left one daughter; who also married
+early, her own cousin, Frank Millington, the cousin of Michael’s father.
+You may now see why I have ever felt so much interest in your future
+brother-in-law.”
+
+“_He_ is a good fellow, and quite free from all jilting blood, I’ll
+answer for it. But, what has become of this Mrs. Frank Millington? I
+remember no such person.”
+
+“Like her mother, she died young, leaving an only daughter to inherit
+her name and very ample fortune. The reason you never knew Mr. Frank
+Millington is probably because he went to Paris early, where he educated
+his daughter, in a great degree—there, and in England—and when he died,
+Mildred Millington, the heiress of both parents, is said to have had
+quite twenty thousand a year. Certain officious friends made a match for
+her, I have heard, with a Frenchman of some family, but small means; and
+the recent revolution has driven them to this country, where, as I have
+been told, she took the reins of domestic government into her own hands,
+until some sort of a separation has been the consequence.”
+
+“Why, this account is surprisingly like the report we have had
+concerning Mary Monson, this morning!” cried Jack, springing to his feet
+with excitement.
+
+“I believe her to be the same person. Many things unite to create this
+opinion. In the first place, there is certainly a marked family
+resemblance to her grandmother and mother; then the education, manners,
+languages, money, Marie Moulin, and the initials of the assumed name,
+each and all have their solution in this belief. The ‘Mademoiselle’ and
+the ‘Madame’ of the Swiss maid are explained; in short, if we can
+believe this Mary Monson to be Madame de Larocheforte, we can find an
+explanation of everything that is puzzling in her antecedents.”
+
+“But, why should a woman of twenty thousand a year be living in the
+cottage of Peter Goodwin?”
+
+“Because she _is_ a woman of twenty thousand a year. Mons. de
+Larocheforte found her money was altogether at her own command, by this
+new law, and, naturally enough, he desired to play something more than a
+puppet’s part in his own abode and family. The lady clings to her
+dollars, which she loves more than her husband; a quarrel ensues, and
+she chooses to retire from his protection, and conceal herself, for a
+time, under Peter Goodwin’s roof, to evade pursuit. Capricious and
+wrong-headed women do a thousand strange things, and thoughtless
+gabblers often sustain them in what they do.”
+
+“This is rendering the marriage tie very slight!”
+
+“It is treating it with contempt; setting at naught the laws of God and
+man—one’s duties, and the highest obligations of woman. Still, many of
+the sex fancy if they abstain from one great and distinct offence, the
+whole catalogue of the remaining misdeeds is at their mercy.”
+
+“Not to the extent of murder and arson, surely! Why should such a woman
+commit these crimes?”
+
+“One never knows. We are fearfully constituted, John; morally and
+physically. The fairest form often conceals the blackest heart, and
+_vice versa_. But I am now satisfied that there is a vein of insanity in
+this branch of the Millingtons; and it is possible Madame de
+Larocheforte is more to be pitied than to be censured.”
+
+“You surely do not think her guilty, uncle Tom?”
+
+The counsellor looked intently at his nephew, shaded his brow a moment,
+gazed upward, and answered—
+
+“I do. There is such a chain of proof against her as will scarce admit
+of explanation. I am afraid, Jack—I am afraid that she has done these
+deeds, terrible as they are! Such has been my opinion, now, for some
+time; though my mind has vacillated, as I make no doubt will prove to be
+the case with those of most of the jurors. It is a sad alternative; but
+I see no safety for her except in the plea of insanity. I am in hopes
+that something may be made out in that respect.”
+
+“We are quite without witnesses to the point; are we not, sir?”
+
+“Certainly; but Michael Millington has gone to town to send by telegraph
+for the nearest connections of Madame de Larocheforte, who are in the
+neighbourhood of Philadelphia. The husband himself is somewhere on the
+Hudson. He must be hunted up too. Michael will see to all this. I shall
+get the judge to adjourn early this evening; and we must spin out the
+trial for the next day or two, in order to collect our forces. The judge
+is young and indulgent. He has certain ridiculous notions about saving
+the time of the public; but does not feel secure enough in his seat to
+be very positive.”
+
+At this instant Timms burst into the room, in a high state of
+excitement, exclaiming, the moment he was sure that his words would not
+reach any hostile ears—
+
+“Our case is desperate! All the Burtons are coming out dead against us;
+and neither ‘the new philanthropy,’ nor ‘Friends,’ nor ‘anti-gallows,’
+can save us. I never knew excitement get up so fast. It’s the infernal
+aristocracy that kills us!—Williams makes great use of it; and our
+people will not stand aristocracy. See what a magnanimous report to the
+legislature the learned Attorney-General has just made on the subject of
+aristocracy. How admirably he touches up the kings and countesses!”
+
+“Pshaw!” exclaimed Dunscomb, with a contemptuous curl of the lip—“not
+one in a thousand knows the meaning of the word; and he among the rest.
+The report you mention is that of a refined gentleman, to be sure, and
+is addressed to his equals. What exclusive political privilege does Mary
+Monson possess? or what does the patroon, unless it be the privilege of
+having more stolen from him, by political frauds, than any other man in
+the State? This cant about social aristocracy, even in a state of
+society in which the servant deserts his master with impunity, in the
+midst of a dinner, is very miserable stuff! Aristocracy, forsooth! If
+there be aristocracy in America, the blackguard is the aristocrat. Away,
+then, with all this trash, and speak common sense in future.”
+
+“You amaze me, sir! Why, I regard _you_ as a sort of aristocrat, Mr.
+Dunscomb.”
+
+“Me!—And what do you see aristocratic about me, pray?”
+
+“Why, sir, you don’t _look_ like the rest of us. Your very _walk_ is
+different—your language, manners, dress, habits and opinions, all differ
+from those of the Duke’s county bar. Now, to my notion, that is being
+exclusive and peculiar; and whatever is peculiar is aristocratic, is it
+not?”
+
+Here Dunscomb and his nephew burst out in a laugh; and, for a few
+minutes, Mary Monson was forgotten. Timms was quite in earnest; for he
+had fallen into the every-day notions, in this respect, and it was not
+easy to get him out of them.
+
+“Perhaps the Duke’s county bar contains the aristocrats, and I am the
+cerf!” said the counsellor.
+
+“That cannot be—you _must_ be the aristocrat, if any there be among us.
+I don’t know _why_ it is so, but so it is; yes, _you_ are the
+aristocrat, if there be one at our bar.”
+
+Jack smiled, and looked funny; but he had the discretion to hold his
+tongue. _He_ had heard that a Duke of Norfolk, the top of the English
+aristocracy, was so remarkable for his personal habits as actually to be
+offensive; a man who, according to Timms’s notions, would have been a
+long way down the social ladder; but who, nevertheless, was a top-peer,
+if not a top-sawyer. It was easy to see that Timms confounded a
+gentleman with an aristocrat; a confusion in ideas that is very common,
+and which is far from being unnatural, when it is remembered how few
+formerly acquired any of the graces of deportment who had not previously
+attained positive, exclusive, political rights. As for the
+Attorney-General and his report, Jack had sufficient sagacity to see it
+was a document that said one thing and meant another; professing
+deference for a people that it did not stop to compliment with the
+possession of either common honesty or good manners.
+
+“I hope _my_ aristocracy is not likely to affect the interests of my
+client.”
+
+“No; there is little danger of that. It is the democracy of the Burtons
+which will do that. I learn from Johnson that they are coming out
+stronger and stronger; and I feel certain Williams is sure of their
+testimony. By the way, sir, I had a hint from him, as we left the
+court-house, that the five thousand dollars might _yet_ take him from
+the field.”
+
+“This Mr. Williams, as well as yourself, Timms, must be more cautious,
+or the law will yet assert its power. It is very much humbled, I am
+aware, under the majesty of the people and a feeble administration of
+its authority; but its arm is long, and its gripe potent, when it
+chooses to exert its force. Take my advice, and have no more to do with
+such arrangements.”
+
+The dinner-bell put an end to the discussion. Timms vanished like a
+ghost; but Dunscomb, whose habits were gentlemanlike, and who knew that
+Mrs. Horton had assigned a particular seat to him, moved more
+deliberately; following his nephew about the time Timms was half through
+the meal.
+
+An American tavern-dinner, during the sitting of the circuit, is every
+way worthy of a minute and graphic description; but our limits will
+hardly admit of our assuming the task. If “misery makes a man acquainted
+with strange bed-fellows,” so does the law. Judges, advocates,
+witnesses, sheriffs, clerks, constables, and not unfrequently the
+accused, dine in common, with rail-road speed. The rattling of knives,
+forks, and spoons, the clatter of plates, the rushing of waiters,
+landlord, landlady, chamber-maids, ostler and bar-keeper included,
+produce a confusion that would do honour to the most profound
+“republican simplicity.” Everything approaches a state of nature but the
+eatables; and they are invariably overdone. On an evil day, some Yankee
+invented an article termed a “cooking-stove;” and since its appearance
+everything like good cookery has vanished from the common American
+table. There is plenty spoiled; abundance abused. Of made dishes, with
+the exception of two or three of very simple characters, there never
+were any; and these have been burned to cinders by the baking processes
+of the “cook-stoves.”
+
+It matters little, however, to the _convives_ of a circuit-court dinner,
+what the dishes are called, or of what they are composed. “Haste”
+forbids “taste;” and it actually occurred that day, as it occurs almost
+invariably on such occasions, that a very clever country practitioner
+was asked the _materiel_ of the dish he had been eating, and he could
+not tell it! Talk of the mysteries of French cookery! The “cook-stove”
+produces more mystery than all the art of all the culinary artists of
+Paris; and this, too, on a principle that tallies admirably with that of
+the purest “republican simplicity;” since it causes all things to taste
+alike.
+
+To a dinner of this stamp Dunscomb now sat down, just ten minutes after
+the first clatter of a plate was heard, and just as the only remove was
+seen, in the form of slices of pie, pudding and cake. With his habits,
+railroad speed or lightning-line eating could find no favour; and he and
+Jack got their dinner, as best they might, amid the confusion and
+remnants of the close of such a repast. Nine-tenths of those who had so
+lately been at work as trencher-men were now picking their teeth,
+smoking segars, or preparing fresh quids for the afternoon. A few
+clients were already holding their lawyers by the button; and here and
+there one of the latter led the way to his room to “settle” some slander
+cause in which the plaintiff had got frightened.
+
+It is a bad sign when eating is carried on without conversation. To
+converse, however, at such a table, is morally if not physically
+impossible. Morally, because each man’s mind is so intent on getting as
+much as he wants, that it is almost impossible to bring his thoughts to
+bear on any other subject; physically, on account of the clatter, a
+movement in which an eclipse of a plate by the body of a waiter is no
+unusual thing, and universal activity of the teeth. Conversation under
+such circumstances would be truly a sort of ventriloquism; the portion
+of the human frame included in the term being all in all just at that
+moment.
+
+Notwithstanding these embarrassments and unpleasant accompaniments,
+Dunscomb and his nephew got their dinners, and were about to quit the
+table as McBrain entered. The doctor would not expose his bride to the
+confusion of the common table, where there was so much that is revolting
+to all trained in the usages of good company, singularly blended with a
+decency of deportment, and a consideration for the rights of each, that
+serve to form bright spots in American character; but he had obtained a
+more private room for the females of his party.
+
+“We should do pretty well,” observed McBrain, in explaining his
+accommodations, “were it not for a troublesome neighbour in an adjoining
+room, who is either insane or intoxicated. Mrs. Horton has put us in
+your wing, and I should think you must occasionally hear from him too?”
+
+“The man is constantly drunk, they tell me, and is a little troublesome
+at times. On the whole, however, he does not annoy me much. I shall take
+the liberty of dining with you to-morrow, Ned; this eating against time
+does not agree with my constitution.”
+
+“To-morrow!—I was thinking that my examination would be ended this
+afternoon, and that we might return to town in the morning. You will
+remember I have patients to attend to.”
+
+“You will have more reason for _patience_. If you get through in a week,
+you will be lucky.”
+
+“It is a curious case! I find all the local faculty ready to swear
+through thick and thin against her. My own opinion is fixed—but what is
+the opinion of one man against those of several in the same profession?”
+
+“We will put that question to Mrs. Horton, who is coming to ask how we
+have dined—Thank’ee, my good Mrs. Horton, we have done _remarkably_
+well, considering all the circumstances.”
+
+The landlady was pleased, and smirked, and expressed her gratification.
+The _sous entendu_ of Dunscomb was lost upon her; and human vanity is
+very apt to accept the flattering, and to overlook the disagreeable. She
+was pleased that the great York lawyer was satisfied.
+
+Mrs. Horton was an American landlady, in the strictest sense of the
+word. This implies many features distinct from her European counterpart;
+some of which tell greatly in her favour, and others not so much so.
+Decency of exterior, and a feminine deportment, are so characteristic of
+the sex in this country, that they need scarcely be adverted to. There
+were no sly jokes, no _doubles entendres_ with Mrs. Horton; who
+maintained too grave a countenance to admit of such liberties. Then, she
+was entirely free from the little expedients of a desire to gain that
+are naturally enough adopted in older communities, where the pressure of
+numbers drives the poor to their wits’-end, in order to live. American
+abundance had generated American liberality in Mrs. Horton; and if one
+of her guests asked for bread, she would give him the loaf. She was,
+moreover, what the country round termed “accommodating;” meaning that
+she was obliging and good-natured. Her faults were a fierce love of
+gossip, concealed under a veil of great indifference and modesty, a
+prying curiosity, and a determination to know everything, touching
+everybody, who ever came under her roof. This last propensity had got
+her into difficulties, several injurious reports having been traced to
+her tongue, which was indebted to her imagination for fully one-half of
+what she had circulated. It is scarcely necessary to add, that, among
+the right set, Mrs. Horton was a great talker. As Dunscomb was a
+favourite, he was not likely to escape on the present occasion; the room
+being clear of all the guests but those of his own party.
+
+“I am glad to get a little quiet talk with you, ’Squire Dunscomb,” the
+landlady commenced; “for a body can depend on what is heard from such
+authority. Do they mean to hang Mary Monson?”
+
+“It is rather premature to ask that question, Mrs. Horton. The jury is
+empannelled, and there we stand at present.”
+
+“Is it a good jury?—Some of our Duke’s county juries are none too good,
+they tell me.”
+
+“The whole institution is a miserable contrivance for the administration
+of justice. Could a higher class of citizens compose the juries, the
+system might still do, with a few improvements.”
+
+“Why not elect them?” demanded the landlady, who was _ex officio_, a
+politician, much as women are usually politicians in this country. In
+other words, she _felt_ her opinions, without knowing their reasons.
+
+“God forbid, my good Mrs. Horton—we have elective judges; that will do
+for the present. Too much of a good thing is as injurious as the
+positively bad. I prefer the present mode of drawing lots.”
+
+“Have you got a Quaker in the box?—If you have, you are safe enough.”
+
+“I doubt if the District Attorney would suffer that; although he appears
+to be kind and considerate. The man who goes into that box must be
+prepared to hang if necessary.”
+
+“For my part, I wish all hanging was done away with. I can see no good
+that hanging can do a man.”
+
+“You mistake the object, my dear Mrs. Horton, though your argument is
+quite as good as many that are openly advanced on the same side of the
+question.”
+
+“Just hear me, ’Squire,” rejoined the woman; for she loved dearly to get
+into a discussion on any question that she was accustomed to hear
+debated among her guests. “The country hangs a body to reform a body;
+and what good can that do when a body is dead?”
+
+“Very ingeniously put,” returned the counsellor, politely offering his
+box to the landlady, who took a few grains; and then deliberately
+helping himself to a pinch of snuff—“quite as ingeniously as much of the
+argument that appears in public. The objection lies to the premises, and
+not to the deduction, which is absolutely logical and just. A hanged
+body is certainly an unreformed body; and, as you say, it is quite
+useless to hang in order to reform.”
+
+“There!” exclaimed the woman in triumph—“I told ’Squire Timms that a
+gentleman who knows as much as you do must be on our side. Depend on one
+thing, lawyer Dunscomb, and you too, gentlemen—depend on it, that Mary
+Monson will never be hanged.”
+
+This was said with a meaning so peculiar, that it struck Dunscomb, who
+watched the woman’s earnest countenance while she was speaking, with
+undeviating interest and intensity.
+
+“It is my duty and my wish, Mrs. Horton, to believe as much, and to make
+others believe it also, if I can,” he answered, now anxious to prolong a
+discourse that a moment before he had found tiresome.
+
+“You can, if you will only try. I believe in dreams—and I dreamt a week
+ago that Mary Monson would be acquitted. It would be ag’in all our new
+notions to hang so nice a lady.”
+
+“Our _tastes_ might take offence at it; and taste is of _some_ influence
+yet, I am bound to agree with you.”
+
+“But you do agree with me in the uselessness of hanging, when the object
+is to reform?”
+
+“Unfortunately for the force of that argument, my dear landlady, society
+does not punish for the purposes of reformation—that is a very common
+blunder of superficial philanthropists.”
+
+“Not for the purposes of reformation, ’Squire!—You astonish me! Why, for
+what else should it punish?”
+
+“For its own protection. To prevent others from committing murder. Have
+you no other reason than your dream, my good Mrs. Horton, for thinking
+Mary Monson will be acquitted?”
+
+The woman put on a knowing look, and nodded her head significantly. At
+the same time, she glanced towards the counsellor’s companions, as much
+as to say that their presence prevented her being more explicit.
+
+“Ned, do me the favour to go to your wife, and tell her I shall stop in,
+and say a kind word as I pass her door;—and, Jack, go and bid Sarah be
+in Mrs. McBrain’s parlour, ready to give me my morning’s kiss.”
+
+The Doctor and John complied, leaving Dunscomb alone with the woman.
+
+“May I repeat the question, my good landlady?—Why do you think Mary
+Monson is to be acquitted?” asked Dunscomb, in one of his softest tones.
+
+Mrs. Horton mused, seemed anxious to speak, but struggling with some
+power that withheld her. One of her hands was in a pocket where the
+jingling of keys and pence made its presence known. Drawing forth this
+hand mechanically, Dunscomb saw that it contained several eagles. The
+woman cast her eyes on the gold, returned it hastily to her pocket,
+rubbed her forehead, and seemed the wary, prudent landlady once more.
+
+“I hope you like your room, ’Squire,” she cried, in a thoroughly,
+inn-keeping spirit. “It’s the very best in this house; though I’m
+obliged to tell Mrs. McBrain the same story as to her apartment. But you
+have the best. You have a troublesome neighbour between you, I’m afraid;
+but he’ll not be there many days, and I do all I can to keep him quiet.”
+
+“Is that man crazy?” asked the counsellor, rising, perceiving that he
+had no more to expect from the woman just then; “or is he only drunk? I
+hear him groan, and then I hear him swear; though I cannot understand
+what he says.”
+
+“He’s sent here by his friends; and your wing is the only place we have
+to keep him in. When a body is well paid, ’Squire, I suppose you know
+that the fee must not be forgotten? Now, inn-keepers have fees, as well
+as you gentlemen of the bar. How wonderfully Timms is getting along, Mr.
+Dunscomb!”
+
+“I believe his practice increases; and they tell me he stands next to
+Mr. Williams in Duke’s.”
+
+“He does, indeed; and a ‘bright particular star,’ as the poet says, has
+he got to be!”
+
+“If he be a star at all,” answered the counsellor, curling his lip, “it
+must be a very particular one, indeed. I am sorry to leave you, Mrs.
+Horton; but the intermission is nearly up.”
+
+Dunscomb gave a little friendly nod, which the landlady returned; the
+former went his way with singular coolness of manner, when it is
+remembered that on him rested the responsibility of defending a
+fellow-creature from the gallows. What rendered this deliberation more
+remarkable, was the fact that he had no faith in the virtue of Mrs.
+Horton’s dream.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXII.
+
+ “Wilt thou behold me sinking in my woes,
+ And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm,
+ To raise one from amidst this plunge of sorrow?”
+ _Addison._
+
+
+“Call the names of the jurors, Mr. Clerk,” said the judge. “Mr. Sheriff,
+I do not see the prisoner in her place.”
+
+This produced a stir. The jurors were called, and answered to their
+names; and shortly after, Mary Monson appeared. The last was accompanied
+by the ladies, who might now be said to belong to her party, though no
+one but herself and Marie Moulin came within the bar.
+
+There was profound stillness in the hall, for it was felt that now the
+issue of life or death was actually approaching. Mary Monson gazed, not
+with disquietude but interest, at the twelve men who were to decide on
+her innocence or guilt—men of habits and opinions so different from her
+own—men so obnoxious to prejudices against those whom the accidents of
+life had made objects of envy or hatred—men too much occupied with the
+cares of existence to penetrate the arcana of thought, and who
+consequently held their opinions at the mercy of others—men unskilled,
+because without practice, in the very solemn and important office now
+imposed on them by the law—men who might indeed be trusted, so long as
+they would defer to the court and reason, but who were terrible and
+dangerous, when they listened, as is too apt to be the case, to the
+suggestions of their own impulses, ignorance and prejudice. Yet these
+men were Mary Monson’s peers, in the eyes of the law—would have been so
+viewed and accepted in a case involving the feelings and practices of
+social castes, about which they knew absolutely nothing, or, what is
+worse than nothing, a very little through the medium of
+misrepresentation and mistaken conclusions.
+
+It is the fashion to extol the institution of the jury. Our own
+experience, by no means trifling, as foreman, as suitor, and as a
+disinterested spectator, does not lead us to coincide in this opinion. A
+narrative of the corrupt, misguided, partial, prejudiced, or ignorant
+conduct that we have ourselves witnessed in these bodies, would make a
+legend of its own. The power that most misleads such men, is one unseen
+by themselves, half the time, and is consequently so much the more
+dangerous. The feelings of neighbourhood, political hostility, or party
+animosities, are among the commonest evils that justice has to
+encounter, when brought in contact with tribunals thus composed. Then
+come the feelings engendered by social castes, an inexhaustible source
+of evil passions. Mary Monson had been told of the risks she ran from
+that source; though she had also been told, and with great truth, that
+so much of the spirit of God still remains in the hearts and minds of
+men, as to render a majority of those who were to be the arbiters of her
+fate conscientious and careful in a capital case. Perhaps, as a rule,
+the singularity of his situation, with a man who finds himself, for the
+first time, sitting as a juror in a trial for a human life, is one of
+the most available correctives of his native tendencies to do evil.
+
+“Mr. District Attorney, are you ready to proceed?” inquired the judge.
+
+This functionary rose, bowed to the court and jury, and commenced his
+opening. His manner was unpretending, natural, and solemn. Although high
+talent and original thought are very rare in this country, as they are
+everywhere else, there is a vast fund of intellect of a secondary order,
+ever at the command of the public. The District Attorney of Duke’s was a
+living witness of this truth. He saw all within his reach clearly, and,
+possessing great experience, he did his duty, on this occasion, in a
+very creditable manner. No attempt was made to awaken prejudice of any
+sort against the accused. She was presented by the grand inquest, and it
+was his and their painful duty, including his honour on the bench, to
+investigate this matter, and make a solemn decision, on their oaths.
+Mary Monson was entitled to a fair hearing, to all the advantages that
+the lenity of the criminal law of a very humane state of society could
+afford, and “for God’s sake let her be acquitted should the State fail
+to establish her guilt!”
+
+Mr. District Attorney then proceeded to give a narrative of the events
+as he supposed them to have occurred. He spoke of the Goodwins as
+“_poor_, but _honest_” people, a sort of illustration that is in much
+favour, and deservedly so, when true. “It seems, gentlemen,” the
+District Attorney continued, “that the wife had a propensity, or a
+fancy, to collect gold pieces, no doubt as a store against the wants of
+age. This money was kept in a stocking, according to the practice of
+country ladies, and was often exhibited to the neighbours. We may have
+occasion, gentlemen, to show you that some fifteen or twenty persons, at
+different times, have seen and handled this gold. You need not be told
+what natural curiosity is, but must all know how closely persons little
+accustomed to see money of this sort, would be apt to examine the more
+rare pieces, in particular. There happened to be several of these pieces
+among the gold of Mrs. Goodwin; and one of them was an Italian or a
+Dutch coin, of the value of four dollars, which commonly goes by the
+name of the king whose likeness is on the piece. This Dutch or Italian
+coin, no matter which, or William, was seen, and handled, and examined
+by several persons, as we shall show you.
+
+“Now, gentlemen, the stocking that contained the gold coins, was kept in
+a bureau, which bureau was saved from the fire, with all its contents:
+but the stocking and the gold were missing! These facts will be shown to
+you by proof that puts them beyond a peradventure. We shall next show to
+you, gentlemen, that on a public examination of the prisoner at the bar,
+the contents of her purse were laid open, and the Dutch or Italian coin
+I have mentioned was found, along with more than a hundred dollars of
+other pieces, which being in American coin, cannot so readily be
+identified.
+
+“The prosecution relies, in a great degree, on the proof that will be
+offered in connection with this piece of money, to establish the guilt
+of the prisoner. We are aware that, when this piece of money was found
+on her person, she affirmed it was hers; that she had been possessed of
+_two_ such pieces, and that the one seen in Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking had
+been a present from herself to that unfortunate woman.
+
+“Gentlemen, if persons accused of crimes could vindicate themselves by
+their own naked statements, there would be very few convictions. Reason
+tells us that proof must be met by proof. Assertions will not be
+received, as against the accused, nor will they be taken in her favour.
+Your own good sense will tell you, gentlemen, that if it be shown that
+Dorothy Goodwin possessed this particular piece of gold, valued it
+highly, and was in the practice of hoarding all the gold she could lay
+her hands on lawfully; that the said Dorothy Goodwin’s residence was
+burned, she herself murdered by a savage and cruel blow or blows on the
+occiput, or head; that Mary Monson, the prisoner at the bar, knew of the
+existence of this little stock of gold coins, had seen it, handled it,
+and doubtless _coveted_ it; residing in the same house, with easy access
+to the bedside of the unhappy couple, with easy access to the bureau, to
+the keys which opened that bureau, for its drawers were found locked,
+just as Mrs. Goodwin was in the habit of leaving them;—but, gentlemen,
+if all this be shown to you, and we then trace the aforesaid piece or
+coin to the pocket of Mary Monson, we make out a _prima facie_ case of
+guilt, as I conceive; a case that will throw on her the _onus_ of
+showing that she came in possession of the said piece of coin lawfully,
+and by no improper means. Failing of this, your duty will be plain.
+
+“It is incumbent on the prosecution to make out its case, either by
+direct proof, on the oaths of credible witnesses, or by such
+circumstances as shall leave no doubt in your minds of the guilt of the
+accused. It is also incumbent that we show that the crimes, of which the
+prisoner is accused, have been committed, and committed by her.
+
+“Gentlemen, we shall offer you this proof. We shall show you that the
+skeletons of which I have spoken, and which lie under that pall, sad
+remains of a most ruthless scene, are beyond all question the skeletons
+of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin. This will be shown to you by proof; though
+all who knew the parties, can almost see the likeness in these sad
+relics of mortality. Peter Goodwin, as will be shown to you, was a very
+short, but sturdy man, while Dorothy, his wife, was a woman of large
+size. The skeletons meet this description exactly. They were found on
+the charred wood of the bedstead the unhappy couple habitually used, and
+on the very spot where they had passed so many previous nights in
+security and peace. Everything goes to corroborate the identity of the
+persons whose remains have been found, and I regret it should be my duty
+to add, that everything goes to fasten the guilt of these murders on the
+prisoner at the bar.
+
+“Gentlemen, although we rely mainly on the possession of the Dutch or
+Italian coin, no matter which, to establish the case for the state, we
+shall offer you a great deal of sustaining and secondary proof. In the
+first place, the fact that a female, young, handsome, well, nay,
+expensively educated, coming from nobody knows whence, to go nobody
+knows whither, should suddenly appear in a place as retired as the house
+of Peter Goodwin, why no one can say, are in themselves very suspicious.
+Gentlemen, ‘all is not gold that glitters.’ Many a man, and many a
+woman, in places large as New York, are not what they seem to be. They
+dress, and laugh, and sing, and appear to be among the gayest of the
+gay, when they do not know where to lay their heads at night. Large
+towns are moral blotches, they say, on the face of the community, and
+they conceal many things that will not bear the light. From one of these
+large towns, it is to be presumed from her dress, manners, education,
+amusements, and all belonging to her, came Mary Monson, to ask an asylum
+in the dwelling of the Goodwins. Gentlemen, why did she come? Had she
+heard of the hoard of Mrs. Goodwin, and did she crave the possession of
+the gold? These questions it will be your duty to answer in your
+verdict. Should the reply be in the affirmative, you obtain, at once, a
+direct clue to the motives for the murder.
+
+“Among the collateral proof that will be offered are the following
+circumstances, to which I now ask your particular attention, in order
+that you may give to the testimony its proper value. It will be shown
+that Mary Monson had a large sum in gold in her possession, _after_ the
+arson and murders, and consequently _after_ the robbery, but no one knew
+of her having any _before_. It will be shown that she has money in
+abundance, scattering it right and left, as we suppose to procure her
+acquittal, and this money we believe she took from the bureau of Mrs.
+Goodwin—how much, is not known. It is thought that the sum was very
+large; the gold alone amounted to near a thousand dollars, and two
+witnesses will testify to a still larger amount in bank notes. The
+Goodwins talked of purchasing a farm, valued at five thousand dollars;
+and as they were known never to run in debt, the fair inference is, that
+they must have had at least that sum by them. A legacy was left Dorothy
+Goodwin within the last six months, which we hear was very considerable,
+and we hope to be able to put a witness on the stand who will tell you
+all about it.
+
+“But, gentlemen, a circumstance worthy of all attention in an
+investigation like this, is connected with an answer to this
+question—Who is Mary Monson? What are her parentage, birthplace,
+occupation, and place of residence? Why did she come to Biberry at all?
+In a word, what is her past history? Let this be satisfactorily
+explained, and a great step is taken towards her vindication from these
+most grave charges. Shall we have witnesses to character? No one will be
+happier to listen to them than myself. My duty is far from pleasant. I
+sincerely hope the prisoner will find lawful means to convince you of
+her innocence. There is not one within the walls of this building who
+will hear such a verdict, if sustained by law and evidence, with greater
+pleasure than it will be heard by me.”
+
+After pursuing this vein some time longer, the worthy functionary of the
+state showed a little of that cloven foot which seems to grow on all,
+even to the cleanest heels, who look to the popular voice for
+preferment. No matter who the man is, rich or poor, young or old,
+foolish or wise, he bows down before the idol of Numbers, and there
+worships. Votes being the one thing wanted, must be bought by sacrifices
+on the altar of conscience. Now it is by wild, and, half the time,
+impracticable schemes of philanthropy, that while they seem to work good
+to the majority, are quite likely to disregard the rights of the
+minority; now they are flourishes against negro slavery, or a revolution
+in favour of the oppressed inhabitants of Crim-Tartary, of the real
+state of which country we are all as ignorant as its inhabitants are
+ignorant of us; now, it’s an exemption law, to enable a man to escape
+from the payment of his just debts, directly in the teeth of the sound
+policy, not to say morality, that if a man owe he should be made to pay
+as long as he has anything to do it with; now, it is a hymn in praise of
+a liberty that the poet neither comprehends nor cares to look into
+farther than may suit his own selfish patriotism; and now, it is some
+other of the thousand modes adopted by the designing to delude the
+masses and advance themselves.
+
+On this occasion the District Attorney was very cautious, but he showed
+the cloven foot. He paid a passing tribute to the god of Numbers,
+worshipped before the hierarchy of votes. “Gentlemen,” he continued,
+“like myself, you are plain, unpretending citizens. Neither you, nor
+your wives and daughters, speak in foreign tongues, or play on foreign
+instruments of music. We have been brought up in republican simplicity,
+[God bless it! say we, could we ever meet with it,] and lay no claims to
+superiority of any sort. Our place is in the body of the nation, and
+there we are content to remain. We shall pay no respect to dress,
+accomplishments, foreign languages, or foreign music; but, the evidence
+sustaining us, will show the world that the law frowns as well on the
+great as on the little; on the pretending, as well as on the
+unpretending.”
+
+As these grandiose sentiments were uttered, several of the jurors half
+rose from their seats, in the eagerness to hear, and looks of
+approbation passed from eye to eye. This was accepted as good republican
+doctrine; no one there seeing, or feeling, as taste and truth would have
+shown, that the real pretension was on the side of an exaggerated
+self-esteem, that prompted to resistance ere resistance was necessary,
+under the influence of, perhaps, the lowest passion of human nature—we
+allude to envy. With a little more in the same vein, the District
+Attorney concluded his opening.
+
+The great coolness, not to say indifference, with which Mary Monson
+listened to this speech, was the subject of general comment among the
+members of the bar. At times she had been attentive, occasionally
+betraying surprise; then indignation would just gleam in her remarkable
+eye; but, on the whole, an uncommon calmness reigned in her demeanour.
+She had prepared tablets for notes; and twice she wrote in them as the
+District Attorney proceeded. This was when he adverted to her past life,
+and when he commented on the Dutch coin. While he was speaking of
+castes, flattering one set under the veil of pretending humility, and
+undermining their opposites, a look of quiet contempt was apparent in
+every feature of her very expressive face.
+
+“If it please the court,” said Dunscomb, rising in his deliberate way,
+“before the prosecution proceeds with its witnesses, I could wish to
+appeal to the courtesy of the gentlemen on the other side for a list of
+their names.”
+
+“I believe we are not bound to furnish any such list,” answered
+Williams, quickly.
+
+“Perhaps not bound exactly in law; but, it strikes me, bound in justice.
+This is a trial for a life; the proceedings are instituted by the State.
+The object is justice, not vengeance—the protection of society, through
+the agency of an impartial, though stern justice. The State cannot wish
+to effect anything by surprise. We are accused of murder and arson, with
+no other notice of what is to be shown, or _how_ anything is to be
+shown, than what is contained in the bill or complaint. Any one can see
+how important it may be to us, to be apprised of the names of the
+witnesses a little in advance, that we may inquire into character and
+note probabilities. I do not insist on any _right_; but I ask a favour
+that humanity sanctions.”
+
+“If it please the court,” said Williams, “we have an important trust. I
+will here say that I impute nothing improper to either of the prisoner’s
+counsel; but it is my duty to suggest the necessity of our being
+cautious. A great deal of money has been expended already in this case;
+and there is always danger of witnesses being bought off. On behalf of
+my client, I protest against the demand’s being complied with.”
+
+“The court has no objection to the course asked by the prisoner’s
+counsel,” observed the judge, “but cannot direct it. The State can never
+wish its officers to be harsh or exacting; but it is their duty to be
+prudent. Mr. District Attorney, are you ready with your evidence? Time
+is precious, sir.”
+
+The testimony for the prosecution was now offered. We shall merely
+advert to most of it, reserving our details for those witnesses on whom
+the cause might be said to turn. Two very decent-looking and
+well-behaved men, farmers who resided in the vicinity of Biberry, were
+put on the stand to establish the leading heads of the case. They had
+known Peter and Dorothy Goodwin; had often stopped at the house; and
+were familiarly acquainted with the old couple, as neighbours.
+“Remembered the fire—was present at it, towards its close. Saw the
+prisoner there; saw her descend, by a ladder; and assisted in saving her
+effects. Several trunks, carpet-bags, bandboxes, writing-desks, musical
+instruments, &c. &c. All were saved. “_It seemed to them that they had
+been placed near the windows, in a way to be handy._” After the fire,
+had never seen or heard anything of the old man and his wife, unless two
+skeletons that had been found were their skeletons. Supposed them to be
+the skeletons of Peter Goodwin and his wife”—Here the remains were for
+the first time on that trial exposed to view. “Those are the same
+skeletons, should say—had no doubt of it; they are about the size of the
+old couple. The husband was short; the wife tall. Little or no
+difference in their height. Had never seen the stocking or the gold; but
+had heard a good deal of talk of them, having lived near neighbours to
+the Goodwins five-and-twenty years.”
+
+Dunscomb conducted the cross-examination. He was close, discriminating,
+and judicious. Separating the hearsay and gossip from the facts known,
+he at once threw the former to the winds, as matter not to be received
+by the jury. We shall give a few of his questions and their answers that
+have a bearing on the more material points of the trial.
+
+“I understand you to say, witness, that you knew both Peter Goodwin and
+his wife?”
+
+“I did—I knew them well—saw them almost every day of my life.”
+
+“For how long a time?”
+
+“This many a day. For five-and-twenty years, or a little more.”
+
+“Will you say that you have been in the habit of seeing Peter Goodwin
+and his wife daily, or almost daily, for five-and-twenty years?”
+
+“If not right down daily, quite often; as often as once or twice a week,
+certainly.”
+
+“Is this material, Mr. Dunscomb?” inquired the judge. “The time of the
+court is very precious.”
+
+“It _is_ material, your honour, as showing the looseness with which
+witnesses testify; and as serving to caution the jury how they receive
+their evidence. The opening of the prosecution shows us that if the
+charge is to be made out at all against the prisoner, it is to be made
+out on purely circumstantial evidence. It is not pretended that any one
+_saw_ Mary Monson kill the Goodwins; but the crime is to be _inferred_
+from a series of collateral facts, that will be laid before the court
+and jury. I think your honour will see how important it is, under the
+circumstances, to analyze the testimony, even on points that may not
+seem to bear directly on the imputed crimes. If a witness testify
+loosely, the jury ought to be made to see it. I have a life to defend,
+your honour will remember.”
+
+“Proceed, sir; the court will grant you the widest latitude.”
+
+“You now say, as often as once or twice a week, witness; on reflection,
+will you swear to even _that?_”
+
+“Well, if not twice, I am sure I can say _once_.”
+
+Dunscomb was satisfied with this answer, which went to show that the
+witness could reply a little at random, and was not always certain of
+his facts, when pressed.
+
+“Are you certain that Dorothy Goodwin is dead?”
+
+“I suppose I am as certain as any of the neighbours.”
+
+“That is not an answer to my question. Will you, and do you swear on
+your oath, that Peter Goodwin, the person named in the indictment, is
+actually dead?”
+
+“I’ll swear that I _think_ so.”
+
+“That is not what I want. You see those skeletons—will you say, on your
+oath, that you _know_ them to be the skeletons of Peter and Dorothy
+Goodwin?”
+
+“I’ll swear that I believe it.”
+
+“That does not meet the question. Do you _know_ it?”
+
+“How can I know it? I’m not a doctor, or a surgeon. No, I do not
+absolutely _know_ it. Still, I believe that one is the skeleton of Peter
+Goodwin, and the other the skeleton of his wife.”
+
+“Which do you suppose to be the skeleton of Peter Goodwin?”
+
+This question puzzled the witness not a little. To the ordinary eye,
+there was scarcely any difference in the appearance of these sad
+remains; though one skeleton had been ascertained by actual measurement
+to be about an inch and a half longer than the other. This fact was
+known to all in Biberry; but it was not easy to say which was which, at
+a glance. The witness took the safe course, therefore, of putting his
+opinion altogether on a different ground.
+
+“I do not pretend to tell one from the other,” was the answer. “What I
+know of my own knowledge is this, and this only. I knew Peter and
+Dorothy Goodwin; knew the house they lived in; know that the house has
+been burnt down, and that the old folks are not about their old ha’nts.
+The skeletons I never saw until they were moved from the place where
+they tell me they were found; for I was busy helping to get the articles
+saved under cover.”
+
+“Then you do not pretend to know which skeleton is that of a man, or
+which that of a woman?”
+
+This question was ingeniously put, and had the effect to make all the
+succeeding witnesses shy on this point; for it created a belief that
+there was a difference that might be recognized by those who are skilled
+in such matters. The witness assented to the view of Dunscomb; and
+having been so far sifted as to show he knew no more than all the rest
+of the neighbours, he was suffered to quit the stand. The result was
+that very little was actually established by means of this testimony. It
+was evident that the jury was now on the alert, and not disposed to
+receive all that was said as gospel.
+
+The next point was to make out all the known facts of the fire, and of
+the finding of the skeletons. The two witnesses just examined had seen
+the close of the fire, had _heard_ of the skeletons, but had said very
+little more to the purpose. Dunscomb thought it might be well to throw
+in a hint to this effect in the present state of the case, as he now did
+by remarking—
+
+“I trust that the District Attorney will see precisely where he stands.
+All that has yet been shown by legal proof are the facts that there were
+such persons as Peter and Dorothy Goodwin; facts we are not at all
+disposed to deny——”
+
+“And that they have not appeared in the flesh since the night of the
+fire?” put in Williams.
+
+“Not to the witnesses; but, to how many others, does not appear.”
+
+“Does the learned counsel mean to set up the defence that Goodwin and
+his wife are not dead?”
+
+“It is for the prosecution to show the contrary affirmatively. If it be
+so, it is fair to presume they can do it. All I now contend for, is the
+fact that we have no proof as yet that either is dead. We have proof
+that the house was burnt; but we are now traversing an indictment for
+murder, and not that for arson. As yet, it strikes me, therefore,
+nothing material has been shown.”
+
+“It is certainly material, Mr. Dunscomb, that there should have been
+such persons as the Goodwins, and that they have disappeared since the
+night of the fire; and this much is proved, unless you impeach the
+witnesses,” observed the judge.
+
+“Well, sir, that much we are not disposed to deny. There _were_ such
+persons as the Goodwins, and they have disappeared from the
+neighbourhood. We believe that much ourselves.”
+
+“Crier, call Peter Bacon.”
+
+Bacon came forward, dressed in an entire new suit of clothes, and
+appearing much more respectable than was his wont. This man’s testimony
+was almost word for word as it has already been given in the coroner’s
+inquest. He established the facts of the fire, about which there could
+be no prudent contention indeed, and of the finding of the skeletons;
+for he had been one of those who aided in first searching the ruins for
+the remains. This man told his story in an extremely vulgar dialect, as
+we have had already occasion to show; but in a very clear, distinct
+manner. He meant to tell the truth, and succeeded reasonably well; for
+it does not occur to all who have the same upright intentions to effect
+their purposes as well as he did himself. Dunscomb’s cross-examination
+was very brief; for he perceived it was useless to attempt to deny what
+had been thus proved.
+
+“Jane Pope”—called out the District Attorney—“Is Mrs. Jane Pope in
+court?”
+
+The widow Pope was on the spot, and ready and willing to answer. She
+removed her bonnet, took the oath, and was shown to the seat with which
+it is usual to accommodate persons of her sex.
+
+“Your name,” said Dunscomb, holding his pen over the paper.
+
+“Pope—Jane Pope since my marriage; but Jane Anderson from my parents.”
+
+Dunscomb listened politely, but recorded no more than the appellation of
+the widow. Mrs. Pope now proceeded to tell her story, which she did
+reasonably well, though not without a good deal of unnecessary
+amplitude, and some slight contradictions. It was _her_ intention, also,
+to tell nothing but the truth; but persons whose tongues move as nimbly
+as that of this woman’s, do not always know exactly what they do say.
+Dunscomb detected the contradictions; but he had the tact to see their
+cause, saw that they were not material, and wisely abstained from
+confounding whatever of justice there was in the defence with points
+that the jury had probably sufficient sagacity to see were of no great
+moment. He made no note, therefore, of these little oversights, and
+allowed the woman to tell her whole story uninterrupted. When it came to
+his turn to cross-examine, however, the duty of so doing was not
+neglected.
+
+“You say, Mrs. Pope, that you had often seen the stocking in which Mrs.
+Goodwin kept her gold. Of what material was that stocking?”
+
+“Wool—yes, of blue woollen yarn. A stocking knit by hand, and very
+darny.”
+
+“Should you know the stocking, Mrs. Pope, were you to see it again?”
+
+“I think I might. Dolly Goodwin and I looked over the gold together more
+than once; and the stocking got to be a sort of acquaintance.”
+
+“Was this it?” continued Dunscomb, taking a stocking of the sort
+described from Timms, who sat ready to produce the article at the proper
+moment.
+
+“If it please the court,” cried Williams, rising in haste, and preparing
+eagerly to interrupt the examination.
+
+“Your pardon, sir,” put in Dunscomb, with great self-command, but very
+firmly—“words must not be put into the witness’s mouth, nor ideas into
+her head. She has sworn, may it please your honour, to a certain
+stocking; which stocking she described in her examination in chief; and
+we now ask her if this is that stocking. All this is regular, I believe;
+and I trust we are not to be interrupted.”
+
+“Go on, sir,” said the judge; “the prosecution will not interrupt the
+defence. But time is very precious.”
+
+“Is this the stocking?” repeated Dunscomb.
+
+The woman examined the stocking, looking inside and out, turning it over
+and over, and casting many a curious glance at the places that had been
+mended.
+
+“It’s dreadful darney, isn’t it?” she said, looking inquiringly at the
+counsellor.
+
+“It is as you see, Ma’am. I have made no alteration in it.”
+
+“I declare I believe this _is_ the very stocking.”
+
+“At the proper time, your honour, we shall show that this is _not_ the
+stocking, if indeed there ever was such a stocking at all,” said Timms,
+rolling up the article in question, and handing it to the clerk to keep.
+
+“You saw a certain piece of gold, you say,” resumed Dunscomb, “which
+piece of gold I understand you to say was afterwards found in the pocket
+of Mary Monson. Will you have the goodness to say whether the piece of
+gold which you saw in Mrs. Goodwin’s possession is among these?”—showing
+a dozen coins; “or whether one resembling it is here?”
+
+The woman was greatly puzzled. She meant to be honest; had told no more
+than was true, with the exception of the little embellishments that her
+propensity to imagine and talk rendered almost unavoidable; but, for the
+life of her, she could not distinguish the piece of money, or its
+counterpart. After examining the coins for several minutes she frankly
+admitted her ignorance.
+
+“It is scarcely necessary to continue this cross-examination,” said
+Dunscomb, looking at his watch. “I shall ask the court to adjourn, and
+to adjourn over until morning. We have reached the hour for lighting
+candles; but we have agents out in quest of most important witnesses;
+and we ask the loss of this evening as a favour. It can make no great
+difference as to the length of the trial; and the jurors will be all the
+fresher for a good night’s rest.”
+
+The court acquiesced, and allowed of the adjournment, giving the jury
+the usual charge about conversing or making up their opinions until they
+had heard the whole testimony; a charge that both Williams and Timms
+took very good care to render of no use in several instances, or as
+regarded particular individuals.
+
+A decided impression was made in favour of the prisoner by Mrs. Pope’s
+failure to distinguish the piece of money. In her examination in chief
+she saw no difficulty in recognizing the single piece then shown to her,
+and which was the Dutch coin actually found in Mary Monson’s purse; but,
+when it was put among a dozen others resembling it, more or less, she
+lost all confidence in herself, and, to a certain point, completely
+broke down as a witness. But Dunscomb saw that the battle had not yet in
+truth begun. What had passed was merely the skirmishing of light troops,
+feeling the way for the advance of the heavy columns and the artillery
+that were to decide the fortunes of the day.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+ “’Tis the wisest way, upon all tender topics, to be silent; for he who
+ takes upon himself to defend a lady’s reputation, only publishes her
+ favours to the world.”—_Cumberland._
+
+The wing of “Horton’s Inn” that contained the room of Dunscomb, was of
+considerable extent, having quite a dozen rooms in it, though mostly of
+the diminutive size of an American tavern bed-room. The best apartment
+in it, one with two windows, and of some dimensions, was that
+appropriated to the counsellor. The doctor and his party had a parlour,
+with two bed-rooms; while, between these and the room occupied by
+Dunscomb, was that of the troublesome guest—the individual who was said
+to be insane. Most of the remainder of the wing, which was much the most
+quiet and retired portion of the house, was used for a better class of
+bed-rooms. There were two rooms, however, that the providence of Horton
+and his wife had set apart for a very different purpose. These were
+small parlours, in which the initiated smoked, drank, and played.
+
+Nothing sooner indicates the school in which a man has been educated,
+than his modes of seeking amusement. One who has been accustomed to see
+innocent relaxation innocently indulged, from childhood up, is rarely
+tempted to abuse those habits which have never been associated, in his
+mind, with notions of guilt, and which, in themselves, necessarily imply
+no moral delinquency. Among the liberal, cards, dancing, music, all
+games of skill and chance that can interest the cultivated, and
+drinking, in moderation and of suitable liquors, convey no ideas of
+wrong doing. As they have been accustomed to them from early life, and
+have seen them practised with decorum and a due regard to the habits of
+refined society, there is no reason for concealment or consciousness. On
+the other hand, an exaggerated morality, which has the temerity to
+enlarge the circle of sin beyond the bounds for which it can find any
+other warranty than its own metaphysical inferences, is very apt to
+create a factitious conscience, that almost invariably takes refuge in
+that vilest of all delinquency—direct hypocrisy. This, we take it, is
+the reason that the reaction of ultra godliness so generally leaves its
+subjects in the mire and sloughs of deception and degradation. The very
+same acts assume different characters, in the hands of these two classes
+of persons; and that which is perfectly innocent with the first,
+affording a pleasant, and in that respect a useful relaxation, becomes
+low, vicious, and dangerous with the other, because tainted with the
+corrupting and most dangerous practices of deception. The private wing
+of Horton’s inn, to which there has been allusion, furnished an example
+in point of what we mean, within two hours of the adjournment of the
+court.
+
+In the parlour of Mrs. McBrain, late Dunscomb’s Widow Updyke, as he used
+to call her, a little table was set in the middle of the room, at which
+Dunscomb himself, the doctor, his new wife and Sarah were seated, at a
+game of whist. The door was not locked, no countenance manifested either
+a secret consciousness of wrong, or an overweening desire to transfer
+another’s money to its owner’s pocket, although a sober sadness might be
+said to reign in the party, the consequence of the interest all took in
+the progress of the trial.
+
+Within twenty feet of the spot just mentioned, and in the two little
+parlours already named, was a very different set collected. It consisted
+of the rowdies of the bar, perhaps two-thirds of the reporters in
+attendance on Mary Monson’s trial, several suitors, four or five country
+doctors, who had been summoned as witnesses, and such other equivocal
+gentry as might aspire to belong to a set as polished and exclusive as
+that we are describing. We will first give a moment’s attention to the
+party around the whist-table, in the parlour first described.
+
+“I do not think the prosecution has made out as well, to-day, all things
+considered, as it was generally supposed it would,” observed McBrain.
+“There is the ace of trumps, Miss Sarah, and if you can follow it with
+the king, we shall get the odd trick.”
+
+“I do not think I shall follow it with anything,” answered Sarah,
+throwing down her cards. “It really seems heartless to be playing whist,
+with a fellow-creature of our acquaintance on trial for her life.”
+
+“I have not half liked the game,” said the quiet Mrs. McBrain, “but Mr.
+Dunscomb seemed so much bent on a rubber, I scarce knew how to refuse
+him.”
+
+“Why, true enough, Tom,” put in the doctor, “this is all your doings,
+and if there be anything wrong about it, you will have to bear the
+blame.”
+
+“Play anything but a trump, Miss Sarah, and _we_ get the game. You are
+quite right, Ned”—throwing down the pack—“the prosecution has not done
+as well as I feared they might. That Mrs. Pope was a witness I dreaded,
+but her testimony amounts to very little, in itself; and what she has
+said, has been pretty well shaken by her ignorance of the coin.”
+
+“I really begin to hope the unfortunate lady may be innocent,” said the
+doctor.
+
+“Innocent!” exclaimed Sarah—“surely, uncle Ned, you can never have
+doubted it!”
+
+McBrain and Dunscomb exchanged significant glances, and the last was
+about to answer, when raising his eyes, he saw a strange form glide
+stealthily into the room, and place itself in a dark corner. It was a
+short, sturdy figure of a man, with all those signs of squalid misery in
+his countenance and dress that usually denote mental imbecility. He
+seemed anxious to conceal himself, and did succeed in getting more than
+half of his person beneath a shawl of Sarah’s, ere he was seen by any of
+the party but the counsellor. It at once occurred to the latter that
+this was the being who had more than once disturbed him by his noise,
+and who Mrs. Horton had pretty plainly intimated was out of his mind;
+though she had maintained a singularly discreet silence for her,
+touching his history and future prospects. She believed “he had been
+brought to court by his friends, to get some order, or judgment—may be,
+his visit had something to do with the new code, about which ’Squire
+Dunscomb said so many hard things.”
+
+A little scream from Sarah soon apprised all in the room of the presence
+of this disgusting-looking object. She snatched away her shawl, leaving
+the idiot, or madman, or whatever he might be, fully exposed to view,
+and retreated, herself, behind her uncle’s chair.
+
+“I fancy you have mistaken your room, my friend,” said Dunscomb, mildly.
+“This, as you see, is engaged by a card-party—I take it, you do not
+play.”
+
+A look of cunning left very little doubt of the nature of the malady
+with which this unfortunate being was afflicted. He made a clutch at the
+cards, laughed, then drew back, and began to mutter.
+
+“She won’t let me play,” mumbled the idiot—“she never _would_.”
+
+“Whom do you mean by she?” asked Dunscomb. “Is it any one in this
+house—Mrs. Horton, for instance?”
+
+Another cunning look, with a shake of the head, for an answer in the
+negative.
+
+“Be you ’Squire Dunscomb, the great York lawyer?” asked the stranger,
+with interest.
+
+“Dunscomb is certainly my name—though I have not the pleasure of knowing
+yours.”
+
+“I haven’t got any name. They may ask me from morning to night, and I
+won’t tell. She won’t let me.”
+
+“By _she_, you again mean Mrs. Horton, I suppose?”
+
+“No I don’t. Mrs. Horton’s a _good_ woman; she gives me victuals and
+drink.”
+
+“Tell us whom you do mean, then.”
+
+“Won’t you tell?”
+
+“Not unless it be improper to keep the secret. Who is this _she_?”
+
+“Why, _she_.”
+
+“Ay, but who?”
+
+“Mary Monson. If you’re the great lawyer from York, and they say you be,
+you must know all about Mary Monson.”
+
+“This is very extraordinary!” said Dunscomb, regarding his companion, in
+surprise. “I _do_ know something about Mary Monson, but not _all_ about
+her. Can you tell me anything?”
+
+Here the stranger advanced a little from his corner, listened, as if
+fearful of being surprised, then laid a finger on his lip, and made the
+familiar sound for ‘hush.’
+
+“Don’t let her hear you; if you do, you may be sorry for it. She’s a
+witch!”
+
+“Poor fellow!—she seems, in truth, to have bewitched you, as I dare say
+she may have done many another man.”
+
+“That has she! I wish you’d tell me what I want to know, if you really
+be the great lawyer from York.”
+
+“Put your questions, my friend; I’ll endeavour to answer them.”
+
+“Who set fire to the house? Can you tell me _that_?”
+
+“That is a secret yet to be discovered—do you happen to know anything
+about it?”
+
+“Do I?—I think I do. Ask Mary Monson; _she_ can tell you.”
+
+All this was so strange, that the whole party now gazed at each other in
+mute astonishment; McBrain bending his looks more intently on the
+stranger, in order to ascertain the true nature of the mental malady
+with which he was obviously afflicted. In some respects the disease wore
+the appearance of idiocy; then again there were gleams of the
+countenance that savoured of absolute madness.
+
+“You are of opinion, then, that Mary Monson knows who set fire to the
+house.”
+
+“Sartain, she does. I know, too, but I won’t tell. They might want to
+hang me, as well as Mary Monson, if I told. I know too much to do
+anything so foolish. Mary has said they would hang _me_, if I tell. I
+don’t want to be hanged, a bit.”
+
+A shudder from Sarah betrayed the effect of these words on the
+listeners; and Mrs. McBrain actually rose with the intention of sending
+for her daughter, who was then in the gaol, consoling the much-injured
+prisoner, as Anna Updyke firmly believed her to be, by her gentle but
+firm friendship. A word from the doctor, however, induced her to resume
+her seat, and to await the result with a greater degree of patience.
+
+“Mary Monson would seem to be a very prudent counsellor,” rejoined
+Dunscomb.
+
+“Yes; but she isn’t the great counsellor from York—you be that
+gentleman, they tell me.”
+
+“May I ask who told you anything about me?”
+
+“Nancy Horton—and so did Mary Monson. Nancy said if I made so much
+noise, I should disturb the great counsellor from York, and he might get
+me hanged for it. I was only singing hymns, and they say it is good for
+folks in trouble to sing hymns. If you be the great counsellor from
+York, I wish you would tell me one thing. Who got the gold that was in
+the stocking?”
+
+“Do you happen to know anything of that stocking, or of the gold?”
+
+“Do I—” looking first over one shoulder, then over the other, but
+hesitating to proceed. “Will they hang me, if I tell?”
+
+“I should think not; though I can only give you an opinion. Do not
+answer, unless it be agreeable to you.”
+
+“I want to tell—I want to tell _all_, but I’m afeard. I don’t want to be
+hanged.”
+
+“Well, then, speak out boldly, and I will promise that you shall not be
+hanged. Who got the gold that was in the stocking?”
+
+“Mary Monson. That’s the way she has got so much money.”
+
+“I cannot consent to leave Anna another instant in such company!”
+exclaimed the anxious mother. “Go, McBrain, and bring her hither at
+once.”
+
+“You are a little premature,” coolly remarked Dunscomb. “This is but a
+person of weak mind; and too much importance should not be attached to
+his words. Let us hear what further he may have to say.”
+
+It was too late. The footstep of Mrs. Horton was heard in the passage;
+and the extraordinary being vanished as suddenly and as stealthily as he
+had entered.
+
+“What can be made of this?” McBrain demanded, when a moment had been
+taken to reflect.
+
+“Nothing, Ned; I care not if Williams knew it all. The testimony of such
+a man cannot be listened to for an instant. It is wrong in us to give it
+a second thought; though I perceive that you do. Half the mischief in
+the world is caused by misconceptions, arising from a very numerous
+family of causes; one of which is a disposition to fancy a great deal
+from a little. Do you pronounce the man an idiot—or is he a madman?”
+
+“He does not strike me as absolutely either. There is something peculiar
+in his case; and I shall ask permission to look into it. I suppose we
+are done with the cards—shall I go for Anna?”
+
+The anxious mother gave a ready assent; and McBrain went one way, while
+Dunscomb retired to his own room, not without stopping before his
+neighbour’s door, whom he heard muttering and menacing within.
+
+All this time the two little parlours mentioned were receiving their
+company. The law is doubtless a very elevated profession, when its
+practice is on a scale commensurate with its true objects. It becomes a
+very different pursuit, however, when its higher walks are abandoned, to
+choose a path amid its thickets and quagmires. Perhaps no human pursuit
+causes a wider range of character among its votaries, than the practice
+of this profession. In the first place, the difference, in an
+intellectual point of view, between the man who sees only precedents,
+and the man who sees the principles on which they are founded, is as
+marked as the difference between black and white. To this great
+distinction in mind, is to be added another that opens a still wider
+chasm, the results of practice, and which depends on morals. While one
+set of lawyers turn to the higher objects of their calling, declining
+fees in cases of obviously questionable right, and struggle to maintain
+their honesty in direct collision with the world and its temptations,
+another, and much the largest, falls readily into the practices of their
+craft—the word seems admirably suited to the subject—and live on,
+encumbered and endangered not only by their own natural vices, but
+greatly damaged by those that in a manner they adopt, as it might be _ex
+officio_. This latter course is unfortunately that taken by a vast
+number of the members of the bar all over the world, rendering them
+loose in their social morality, ready to lend themselves and their
+talents to the highest bidder, and causing them to be at first
+indifferent, and in the end blind, to the great features of right and
+wrong. These are the moralists who advance the doctrine that “the
+advocate has a right to act as his client would act;” while the class
+first named allow that “the advocate has a right to do what his client
+_has_ a _right_ to do,” and no more.
+
+Perhaps there was not a single member of the profession present that
+night in the two little parlours of Mrs. Horton, who recognized the
+latter of these rules; or who did not, at need, practise on the former.
+As has been already said, these were the rowdies of the Duke’s county
+bar. They chewed, smoked, drank, and played, each and all coarsely. To
+things that were innocent in themselves they gave the aspect of guilt by
+their own manners. The doors were kept locked; even amid their coarsest
+jokes, their ribaldry, their oaths that were often revolting and
+painfully frequent, there was an uneasy watchfulness, as if they feared
+detection. There was nothing frank and manly in the deportment of these
+men. Chicanery, management, double-dealing, mixed up with the
+outbreakings of a coarse standard of manners, were visible in all they
+said or did, except, perhaps, at those moments when hypocrisy was paying
+its homage to virtue. This hypocrisy, however, had little, or at most a
+very indirect connection with anything religious. The offensive
+offshoots of the exaggerations that were so abounding among us half a
+century since, are giving place to hypocrisy of another school. The
+homage that was then paid to principles, however erroneous and
+forbidding, is now paid to the ballot-boxes. There was scarcely an
+individual around those card-tables, at which the play was so obviously
+for the stakes as to render the whole scene revolting, who would not
+have shrunk from having his amusements known. It would seem as if
+conscience consulted taste. Everything was coarse and offensive; the
+attitudes, oaths, conversation, liquors, and even the manner of drinking
+them. Apart from the dialogue, little was absolutely done that might not
+have been made to lose most of its repulsiveness, by adopting a higher
+school of manners; but of this these scions of a noble stock knew no
+more than they did of the parent stem.
+
+It is scarcely necessary to say that both Williams and Timms were of
+this party. The relaxation was, in fact, in conformity with their tastes
+and practices; and each of these excrescences of a rich and beneficent
+soil counted on the meetings in Mrs. Horton’s private rooms, as the more
+refined seek pleasure in the exercise of their tastes and habits.
+
+“I say, Timms,” bawled out an attorney of the name of Crooks—“You play’d
+a trump, sir—all right—go ahead—first rate—good play, that—ours dead. I
+say, Timms, you’re going to save Mary Monson’s neck. When I came here, I
+thought she was a case; but the prosecution is making out miserably.”
+
+“What do you say to that, Williams?” put in Crooks’s partner, who was
+smoking, playing, and drinking, with occasional ‘asides’ of swearing,
+all, as might be, at the same time. “I trump that, sir, by your
+leave—what do you say to that, Williams?”
+
+“I say that this is not the court; and trying such a cause once ought to
+satisfy a reasonable man.”
+
+“He’s afraid of showing his hand, which I am not,” put in another,
+exposing his cards as he spoke. “Williams always has some spare trumps,
+however, to get him out of all his difficulties.”
+
+“Yes, Williams has a spare trump, and there it is, giving me the trick,”
+answered the saucy lawyer, as coolly as if he had been engaged in an
+inferior slander-suit. “I shall be at Timms pretty much by the same
+process to-morrow.”
+
+“Then you will do more than you have done to-day, Master Williams. This
+Mrs. Jane Pope _may be_ a trump, but she is not the ace. I never knew a
+witness break down more completely.”
+
+“We’ll find the means to set her up again—I think that knave is yours,
+Green—yes, I now see my game, which is to take it with the queen—very
+much, Timms, as we shall beat you to-morrow. I keep my trump card always
+for the last play, you know.”
+
+“Come, come, Williams,” put in the oldest, member of the bar, a man
+whose passions were cooled by time, and who had more gravity than most
+of his companions—“Come, come, Williams, this is a trial for a life, and
+joking is a little out of place.”
+
+“I believe there is no juror present, Mr. Marvin, which is all the
+reserve the law exacts.”
+
+“Although the law may tolerate this levity, feeling will not. The
+prisoner is a fine young woman; and for my part, though I wish to say
+nothing that may influence any one’s opinion, I have heard nothing yet
+to justify an indictment, much less a conviction.”
+
+Williams laid down his cards, rose, stretched his arms, gaped, and
+taking Timms by the arm, he led the latter from the room. Not content
+with this, the wary limb of the law continued to move forward, until he
+and his companion were in the open air.
+
+“It is always better to talk secrets outside than inside of a house,”
+observed Williams, as soon as they were at a safe distance from the
+inn-door. “It is not too late yet, Timms—you must see how weak we are,
+and how bunglingly the District Attorney has led off. Half those jurors
+will sleep to-night with a feeling that Mary Monson has been hardly
+dealt by.”
+
+“They may do the same to-morrow night, and every night in the month,”
+answered Timms.
+
+“Not unless the arrangement is made. We have testimony enough to hang
+the governor.”
+
+“Show us your list of witnesses, then, that we may judge of this for
+ourselves.”
+
+“That would never do. They might be bought off for half the money that
+is necessary to take us out of the field. Five thousand dollars can be
+no great matter for such a woman and her friends.”
+
+“Whom do you suppose to be her friends, Williams?—If you know them, you
+are better informed than her own counsel.”
+
+“Yes, and a pretty point _that_ will make, when pressed against you. No,
+no, Timms; your client has been ill-advised, or she is unaccountably
+obstinate. She has friends, although you may not know who they are; and
+friends who can, and who _would_ very promptly help her, if she would
+consent to ask their assistance. Indeed, I suspect she has cash enough
+on hand to buy us off.”
+
+“Five thousand dollars is a large sum, Williams, and is not often to be
+found in Biberry gaol. But, if Mary Monson has these friends, name them,
+that we may apply for their assistance.”
+
+“Harkee, Timms; you are not a man so ignorant of what is going on in the
+world, as to require to be told the letters of the alphabet. You know
+that there are extensive associations of rogues in this young country,
+as well as in most that are older.”
+
+“What has that to do with Mary Monson and our case?”
+
+“Everything. This Mary Monson has been sent here to get at the gold of
+the poor old dolt, who has not been able to conceal her treasure after
+it was hoarded. She made a sub-treasury of her stocking, and exhibited
+the coin, like any other sub-treasurer. Many persons like to look at it,
+just to feast their eyes.”
+
+“More to finger it; and you are of the number, Williams!”
+
+“I admit it. The weakness is general in the profession, I believe. But
+this is idle talk, and we are losing very precious time. Will you, or
+will you not, apply again to your client for the money?”
+
+“Answer me candidly, a question or two, and I will do as you desire. You
+know, Williams, that we are old friends, and never had any serious
+difficulty since we have been called to the bar.”
+
+“Oh, assuredly,” answered Williams, with an ironical smile that it might
+have been fortunate for the negotiation the obscurity concealed from his
+companion; “excellent friends from the beginning, Timms, and likely to
+continue so, I trust, to the last. Men who _know_ each other as well as
+you and I, ought to be on the best of terms. For my part, I never
+harboured a wrangle at the bar in my mind five minutes after I left the
+court. Now for your question.”
+
+“You surely do not set down Mary Monson as the stool pigeon of a set of
+York thieves!”
+
+“Who, or what else can she be, Mr. Timms? Better educated, and belonging
+to an ‘upper ten’ in villany, but of a company of rogues. Now, these
+knaves stand by each other much more faithfully than the body of the
+citizens stand by the law; and the five thousand will be forthcoming for
+the asking.”
+
+“Are you serious in wishing me to believe you think my client guilty!”
+
+Here Williams made no bones of laughing outright. It is true that he
+suppressed the noise immediately, lest it should attract attention; but
+laugh he did, and with right good will.
+
+“Come, Timms, you have asked your question, and I leave you to answer it
+yourself. One thing I will say, however, in the way of admonition, which
+is this—we shall make out such a case against her to-morrow as would
+hang a governor, as I have already told you.”
+
+“I believe you’ve done your worst already—why not let me know the names
+of your witnesses?”
+
+“You know the reason. We wish the whole sum ourselves, and have no fancy
+to its being scattered all over Duke’s. I give you my honour, Timms—and
+you know what _that_ is—I give you my honour that we hold this testimony
+in reserve.”
+
+“In which case the District Attorney will bring the witnesses on the
+stand; and we shall gain nothing, after all, by your withdrawal.”
+
+“The District Attorney has left the case very much to me. I have
+prepared his brief, and have taken care to keep to myself enough to turn
+the scales. If I quit, Mary Monson will be acquitted—if I stay, she will
+be hanged. A pardon for _her_ will be out of the question—she is too
+high among the ‘upper ten’ to expect _that_—besides, she is not an
+anti-renter.”
+
+“I wonder the thieves do not combine, as well as other folks, and
+control votes!”
+
+“They do—these anti-renters belong to the gangs, and have already got
+their representatives in high places. They are ‘land-pirates,’ while
+_your_ client goes for the old stockings. The difference in principle is
+by no means important, as any clear-headed man may see. It is getting
+late, Timms.”
+
+“I cannot believe that Mary Monson is the sort of person you take her
+for! Williams, I’ve always looked upon you, and treated you, as a
+friend. You may remember how I stood by you in the Middlebury case?”
+
+“Certainly—you did your duty by me in that matter, and I have not forgot
+it.”
+
+The cause alluded to was an action for a “breach of promise,” which, at
+one time, threatened all of Williams’s “future usefulness,” as it is
+termed; but which was put to sleep in the end by means of Timms’s
+dexterity in managing the “out-door” points of a difficult case.
+
+“Well, then, be _my_ friend in this matter. I will be honest with you,
+and acknowledge that, as regards my client, I have had—that is provided
+she is acquitted, and her character comes out fair—that I have had—and
+_still_ have, for that matter—what——”
+
+“Are called ‘ulterior views.’ I understand you, Timms, and have
+suspected as much these ten days. A great deal depends on what you
+consider a fair character. Taking the best view of her situation, Mary
+Monson will have been tried for murder and arson.”
+
+“Not if acquitted of the first. I have the District Attorney’s promise
+to consent to a _nolle prosequi_ on the last indictment, if we traverse
+the first successfully.”
+
+“In which case Mary Monson will have been tried for murder only,”
+returned Williams, smiling. “Do you really think, Timms, that your heart
+is soft enough to receive and retain an impression as deep as that made
+by the seal of the court?”
+
+“If I thought, as you do, that my client is or has been connected with
+thieves, and burglars, and counterfeiters, I would not think of her for
+a moment as a wife. But there is a vast difference between a person
+overtaken by sudden temptation and one who sins on calculation, and by
+regular habit. Now, in my own case, I sometimes act wrong—yes, I admit
+as much as that——”
+
+“It is quite unnecessary,” said Williams, drily.
+
+“It is not according to Christian doctrine to visit old offences on a
+sinner’s head, when repentance has washed away the crime.”
+
+“Which means, Timms, that you will marry Mary Monson, although she may
+be guilty; provided always, that two very important contingencies are
+favourably disposed of.”
+
+“What contingencies do you allude to, Williams? I know of none.”
+
+“One is, provided she will have you; the other is, provided she is not
+hanged.”
+
+“As to the first, I have no great apprehension; women that have been
+once before a court, on a trial for a capital offence, are not very
+particular. On my side, it will be easy enough to persuade the public
+that, as counsel in a most interesting case, I became intimately
+acquainted with her virtues, touched by her misfortunes, captivated by
+her beauty and accomplishments, and finally overcome by her charms. I
+don’t think, Williams, that such an explanation would fail of its
+effect, before a caucus even. Men are always favourably disposed to
+those they think worse off than they are themselves. A good deal of
+capital is made on that principle.”
+
+“I do not know that it would. Now-a-days the elections generally turn
+more on public principles than on private conduct. The Americans are a
+most forgiving people, unless you tell them the _truth_. _That_ they
+will not pardon.”
+
+“Nor any other nation, I fancy. Human natur’ revolts at it. But
+_that_”—snapping his fingers—“for your elections; it is the caucuses
+that I lay myself out to meet. Give me the _nomination_, and I am as
+certain of my seat as, in the old countries, a first-born is to his
+father’s throne.”
+
+“It is pretty safe as a rule, I allow; but nominations sometimes fail.”
+
+“Not when regular, and made on proper principles. A nomination is almost
+as good as popularity.”
+
+“Often better; for men are just asses enough to work in the collar of
+party, even when overloaded. But all this time the night is wearing
+away. If I go into court in the morning, it will be too late. This thing
+must be settled at once, and that in a very explicit manner.”
+
+“I wish I knew what you have picked up concerning Mary Monson’s early
+life!” said Timms, like a man struggling with doubt.
+
+“You have heard the rumour as well as myself. Some say she is a wife
+already; while others think her a rich widow. My opinion you know; I
+believe her to be the stool-pigeon of a York gang, and no better than
+she should be.”
+
+This was plain language to be addressed to a lover; and Williams meant
+it to be so. He had that sort of regard for Timms which proceeds from a
+community in practices, and was disposed to regret that a man with whom
+he had been so long connected, either as an associate or an antagonist,
+should marry a woman of the pursuits that he firmly believed marked the
+career of Mary Monson.
+
+The gentlemen of the bar are no more to be judged by appearances than
+the rest of mankind. They will wrangle, and seem to be at sword’s points
+with each other, at one moment; when the next may find them pulling
+together in harmony in the next case on the calendar. It was under this
+sort of feeling that Williams had a species of friendship for his
+companion.
+
+“I will try, Williams,” said the last, turning towards the gaol. “Yes, I
+will make one more trial.”
+
+“Do, my good fellow—and, Timms—remember one thing, you can never marry a
+woman that has been hanged.”
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+ “The time is precious; I’ll about it straight.”
+ _Earl of Essex._
+
+
+The gaol presented a very different scene. A solemn stillness reigned in
+its gallery; and even good Mrs. Gott had become weary with the
+excitement of the day, and had retired to rest. A single lamp was
+burning in the cell; and dark forms were dimly visible in the passage,
+without the direct influence of its rays. Two were seated, while a third
+paced the stone but carpeted pavement, with a slow and quiet step. The
+first were the shadowy forms of Anna Updyke and Marie Moulin; the last,
+that of Mary Monson. For half an hour the prisoner had been on her
+knees, praying for strength to endure a burthen that surpassed her
+expectations; and, as is usual with those who look above for aid, more
+especially women, she was reaping the benefit of her petition. Not a
+syllable had she uttered, however, since quitting the cell. Her voice,
+soft, melodious, and lady-like, was now heard for the first time.
+
+“My situation is most extraordinary, Anna,” she said; “it proves almost
+too much for my strength! This has been a terrible day, calm as I may
+have appeared; and I fear that the morrow will be still harder to be
+borne. There is an expression about the eyes of that man, Williams, that
+both alarms and disgusts me. I am to expect in him a most fiery foe.”
+
+“Why, then, do you not escape from scenes for which you are so unsuited
+and leave this saucy Williams to himself, and his schemes of plunder?”
+
+“That would not do. Several sufficient reasons exist for remaining. Were
+I to avail myself of the use of the keys I possess, and quit the gaol
+not to return, good Mrs. Gott and her husband would probably both be
+ruined. Although they are ignorant of what money and ingenuity have done
+for me, it would be difficult to induce the world to believe them
+innocent. But a still higher reason for remaining is the vindication of
+my own character.”
+
+“No one will think of confounding _you_ with Mary Monson; and by going
+abroad, as you say it is your intention to do, you would effectually
+escape from even suspicion.”
+
+“You little know the world, my dear. I see that all the useful lessons I
+gave you, as your school-mamma, are already forgotten. The six years
+between us in age have given me an experience that tells me to do
+nothing of the sort. Nothing is so certain to follow us as a bad name;
+though the good one is easily enough forgotten. As Mary Monson, I am
+indicted for these grievous crimes; as Mary Monson will I be acquitted
+of them. I feel an affection for the character, and shall not degrade it
+by any act as base as that of flight.”
+
+“Why not, then, resort to the other means you possess, and gain a speedy
+triumph in open court?”
+
+As Anna put this question, Mary Monson came beneath the light and
+stopped. Her handsome face was in full view, and her friend saw an
+expression on it that gave her pain. It lasted only a moment; but that
+moment was long enough to induce Anna to wish she had not seen it. On
+several previous occasions this same expression had rendered her uneasy;
+but the evil look was soon forgotten in the quiet elegance of manners
+that borrowed charms from a countenance usually as soft as the evening
+sky in September. Ere she resumed her walk, Mary Monson shook her head
+in dissent from the proposition of her friend, and passed on, a shadowy
+but graceful form, as she went down the gallery.
+
+“It would be premature,” she said, “and I should fail of my object. I
+will not rob that excellent Mr. Dunscomb of his honest triumph. How calm
+and gentlemanlike he was to-day; yet how firm and prompt, when it became
+necessary to show these qualities.”
+
+“Uncle Tom is all that is good; and we love him as we would love a
+parent.”
+
+A pause succeeded, during which Mary Monson walked along the gallery
+once, in profound thought.
+
+“Yours promises to be a happy future, my dear,” she said. “Of suitable
+ages, tempers, stations, country—yes, country; for an American woman
+should never marry a foreigner!”
+
+Anna Updyke did not reply; and a silence succeeded that was interrupted
+by the rattling of a key in the outer door.
+
+“It is your new father, Anna, come to see you home. Thank you,
+kind-hearted and most generous-minded girl. I feel the sacrifices that
+you and your friend are making in my behalf, and shall carry the
+recollection of them to the grave. On her, I had no claims at all; and
+on you, but those that are very slight. You have been to me, indeed,
+most excellent friends, and a great support when both were most needed.
+Of my own sex, and of the same social level, I do not now see how I
+should have got on without you. Mrs. Gott is kindness and good-nature
+themselves; but she is so different from us in a thousand things, that I
+have often been pained by it. In our intercourse with you, how
+different! Knowing so much, you pry into nothing. Not a question, not a
+look to embarrass me; and with a perfect and saint-like reliance on my
+innocence, were I a sister, your support could not be more warm-hearted
+or firm.”
+
+After a short pause, in which this singular young woman smiled, and
+appeared to be talking to herself, she continued, after kissing her
+companion most affectionately for good-night, and walking with her as
+far as the door of the gallery, where it had been announced that the
+doctor was waiting for his step-daughter—
+
+“I wish I knew whether the same faith goes through the connection—Mr.
+John Wilmeter?”
+
+“Oh! He is persuaded of your entire innocence. It was he who excited so
+much interest in me, on your behalf, before I had the least idea of our
+having ever met before.”
+
+“He is a noble-hearted young man, and has many excellent qualities—a
+little romantic, but none the worse for that, my dear, as you will find
+in the end. Alas! alas! Those marriages that are made over a rent-roll,
+or an inventory, need a great deal of something very different from what
+they possess, to render them happy! Mr. Wilmeter has told me that _no
+evidence_ could make him believe in my guilt. There is a confidence that
+might touch a woman’s heart, Anna, did circumstances admit of such a
+thing. I like that Michael Millington, too; the _name_ is dear to me, as
+is the race of which he comes. No matter; the world _va son train_, let
+us regret and repine as we may. And Uncle Tom, Anna—what do you think of
+his real opinion? Is it in my favour or not?”
+
+Anna Updyke had detected in Dunscomb a disposition to doubt, and was
+naturally averse to communicating a fact so unpleasant to her friend.
+Kissing the latter affectionately, she hurried away to meet McBrain,
+already waiting for her without. In quitting the dwelling of the
+building annexed to the gaol, the doctor and Anna met Timms hurrying
+forward to seek an interview with his client before she retired to rest.
+An application at once obtained permission for the limb of the law to
+enter.
+
+“I have come, Miss Mary,” as Timms now called his client, “on what I
+fear will prove a useless errand; but which I have thought it my duty to
+see performed, as your best friend, and one of your legal advisers. You
+have already heard what I had to say on the subject of a certain
+proposal of the next of kin to withdraw from the prosecution, which will
+carry with him this Williams, with whom I should think you would, by
+this time, be heartily disgusted. I come now to say that this offer is
+repeated with a good deal of emphasis, and that you have still an
+opportunity of lessening the force that is pressing on your interests,
+by at least one-half. Williams may well count for more than half of the
+vigour and shrewdness of what is doing for the State in your case.”
+
+“The proposal must be more distinctly made, and you must let me have a
+clear view of what is expected from me, Mr. Timms, before I can give any
+reply,” said Mary Monson. “But you may wish to be alone with me before
+you are more explicit. I will order my woman to go into the cell.”
+
+“It might be more prudent were we to go into the cell ourselves, and
+leave your domestic outside. These galleries carry sounds like
+ear-trumpets; and we never know who may be our next neighbour in a
+gaol.”
+
+Mary Monson quietly assented to the proposal, calling to her woman in
+French to remain outside, in the dark, while she profited by the light
+of the lamp in the cell. Timms followed, and closed the door.
+
+In size, form, and materials, the cell of Mary Monson was necessarily
+like that of every other inmate of the gaol. Its sides, top and bottom,
+were of massive stones; the two last being flags of great dimensions.
+But taste and money had converted even this place into an apartment that
+was comfortable in all respects but that of size. Two cells opening on
+the section of gallery that the consideration of Mrs. Gott had caused to
+be screened off, and appropriated to the exclusive use of the fair
+prisoner, one had been furnished as a sleeping apartment, while that in
+which Timms was now received had more the air of a sort of _boudoir_. It
+was well carpeted, like all the rest of what might be termed the suite;
+and had a variety of those little elegancies that women of cultivated
+tastes and ample means are almost certain to gather about them. The harp
+which had occasioned so much scandal, as well as a guitar, stood near
+by; and chairs of different forms and various degrees of comfort,
+crowded the room, perhaps to superfluity. As this was the first time
+Timms had been admitted to the cell, he was all eyes, gazing about him
+at the numerous signs of wealth it contained, with inward satisfaction.
+It was a minute after he was desired to be seated before he could
+comply, so lively was the curiosity to be appeased. It was during this
+minute that Marie Moulin lighted four candles, that were already
+arranged in bronzed candlesticks, making a blaze of light for that small
+room. These candles were of spermaceti, the ordinary American substitute
+for wax. Nothing that he then saw, or had ever seen in his intercourse
+with his client, so profoundly impressed Timms as this luxury of light.
+Accustomed himself to read and write by a couple of small inferior
+articles in tallow, when he did not use a lamp, there seemed to be
+something regal to his unsophisticated imagination, in this display of
+brilliancy.
+
+Whether Mary Monson had a purpose to answer in giving Timms so unusual a
+reception, we shall leave the reader to discover by means of his own
+sagacity; but circumstances might well lead one to the conclusion that
+she had. There was a satisfied look, as she glanced around the cell and
+surveyed its arrangements, that possibly led fairly enough to such an
+inference. Nevertheless, her demeanour was perfectly quiet, betraying
+none of the fidgeting uneasiness of an underbred person, lest all might
+not be right. Every arrangement was left to the servant; and when Marie
+Moulin finally quitted the cell and closed the door behind her, every
+thought of the apartment and what it contained seemed to vanish from the
+mind of her extraordinary mistress.
+
+“Before you proceed to communicate the purpose of your visit, Mr.
+Timms,” Mary Monson said, “I shall ask permission to put a few questions
+of my own, touching the state of our cause. Have we gained or lost by
+this day’s proceedings?”
+
+“Most clearly gained, as every man at the bar will confirm by his
+opinion.”
+
+“That has been my own way of thinking; and I am glad to hear it
+corroborated by such competent judges. I confess the prosecution does
+not seem to me to show the strength it really possesses. This Jane Pope
+made a miserable blunder about the piece of coin.”
+
+“She has done the other side no great good, certainly.”
+
+“How stands the jury, Mr. Timms?”
+
+Although this question was put so directly, Timms heard it with
+uneasiness. Nor did he like the expression of Mary Monson’s eyes, which
+seemed to regard him with a keenness that might possibly imply distrust.
+But it was necessary to answer; though he did so with caution, and with
+a due regard to his own safety.
+
+“It is pretty well,” he said, “though not quite as much opposed to
+capital punishment as I had hoped for. We challenged off one of the
+sharpest chaps in the county, and have got in his place a man who is
+pretty much under my thumb.”
+
+“And the stories—the reports—have they been well circulated?”
+
+“A little too well, I’m afraid. That concerning your having married a
+Frenchman, and having run away from him, has gone through all the lower
+towns of Duke’s like wild-fire. It has even reached the ears of ’Squire
+Dunscomb, and will be in the York papers to-morrow.”
+
+A little start betrayed the surprise of the prisoner; and a look
+accompanied it, which would seem to denote dissatisfaction that a tale
+put in circulation by herself, as it would now appear, had gone quite so
+far.
+
+“Mr. Dunscomb!” she repeated, musingly. “Anna Updyke’s uncle Tom; and
+one whom such a story may very well set thinking. I wish it had not
+reached _him_, of all men, Mr. Timms.”
+
+“If I may judge of his opinions by some little acts and expressions that
+have escaped him, I am inclined to think he believes the story to be, in
+the main, true.”
+
+Mary Monson smiled; and, as was much her wont when thinking intensely,
+her lips moved; even a low muttering became audible to a person as near
+as her companion then was.
+
+“It is now time, Mr. Timms, to set the other story in motion,” she said,
+quickly. “Let one account follow the other; that will distract people’s
+belief. We must be active in this matter.”
+
+“There is less necessity for our moving in the affair, as Williams has
+got a clue to it, by some means or other; and his men will spread it far
+and near, long before the cause goes to the jury.”
+
+“That is fortunate!” exclaimed the prisoner, actually clapping her
+pretty gloved hands together in delight. “A story as terrible as _that_
+must react powerfully, when its falsehood comes to be shown. I regard
+that tale as the cleverest of all our schemes, Mr. Timms.”
+
+“Why—yes—that is—I think, Miss Mary, it may be set down as the
+_boldest_.”
+
+“And this saucy Williams, as you call him, has got hold of it already,
+and believes it true!”
+
+“It is not surprising; there are so many small and probable facts
+accompanying it.”
+
+“I suppose you know what Shakspeare calls such an invention, Mr. Timms?”
+said Mary Monson, smiling.
+
+“I am not particularly acquainted with that author, ma’am I know there
+was such a writer, and that he was thought a good deal of, in his day;
+but I can’t say I have ever read him.”
+
+The beautiful prisoner turned her large expressive blue eyes on her
+companion with a gaze of wonder; but her breeding prevented her from
+uttering what she certainly thought and felt.
+
+“Shakspeare is a writer very generally esteemed,” she answered, after
+one moment of muttering, and one moment to control herself; “I believe
+he is commonly placed at the head of our English literature, if not at
+the head of that of all times and nations—Homer, perhaps, excepted.”
+
+“What! higher, do you think, Miss Mary, than Blackstone and Kent!”
+
+“Those are authors of whom I know nothing, Mr. Timms; but now, sir, I
+will listen to your errand here to-night.”
+
+“It is the old matter. Williams has been talking to me again, touching
+the five thousand dollars.”
+
+“Mr. Williams has my answer. If five thousand _cents_ would buy him off,
+he should not receive them from me.”
+
+This was said with a frown; and then it was that the observer had an
+opportunity of tracing in a face otherwise so lovely, the lines that
+indicate self-will, and a spirit not easily controlled. Alas! that women
+should ever so mistake their natural means to influence and guide, as to
+have recourse to the exercise of agents that they rarely wield with
+effect; and ever with a sacrifice of womanly character and womanly
+grace. The person who would draw the sex from the quiet scenes that they
+so much embellish, to mingle in the strifes of the world; who would
+place them in stations that nature has obviously intended men should
+occupy, is not their real friend, any more than the weak adviser who
+resorts to reputed specifics when the knife alone can effect a cure. The
+Creator intended woman for a “help-meet,” and not for the head of the
+family circle; and most fatally ill-judging are the laws that would fain
+disturb the order of a domestic government which is directly derived
+from divine wisdom as from divine benevolence.
+
+“I told him as much, Miss Mary,” answered Timms; “but he does not seem
+disposed to take ‘no’ for an answer. Williams has the true scent for a
+dollar.”
+
+“I am quite certain of an acquittal, Mr. Timms; and having endured so
+much, and hazarded so much, I do not like to throw away the triumph of
+my approaching victory. There is a powerful excitement in my situation;
+and I like excitement to weakness, perhaps. No, no; my success must not
+be tarnished by any such covert bargain. I will not listen to the
+proposal for an instant!”
+
+“I understand that the raising of the sum required would form no
+particular obstacle to the arrangement?” asked Timms, in a careless sort
+of way that was intended to conceal the real interest he took in the
+reply.
+
+“None at all. The money might be in his hands before the court sits in
+the morning; but it never shall be, as coming from me. Let Mr. Williams
+know this definitively; and tell him to do his worst.”
+
+Timms was a little surprised, and a good deal uneasy at this
+manifestation of a spirit of defiance, which could produce no good, and
+which might be productive of evil. While he was delighted to hear, for
+the fourth or fifth time, how easy it would be for his fair client to
+command a sum as large as that demanded, he secretly determined not to
+let the man who had sent him on his present errand know the temper in
+which it had been received. Williams was sufficiently dangerous as it
+was; and he saw all the hazard of giving him fresh incentives to
+increase his exertions.
+
+“And now, as this matter is finally disposed of, Mr. Timms—for I desire
+that it may not be again mentioned to me”—resumed the accused, “let us
+say a word more on the subject of our new report. Your agent has set on
+foot a story that I belong to a gang of wretches who are combined to
+prey on society; and that, in this character, I came into Duke’s to
+carry out one of its nefarious schemes?”
+
+“That is the substance of the rumour we have started at your own desire;
+though I could wish it were not quite so strong, and that there were
+more time for the reaction.”
+
+“The strength of the rumour is its great merit; and, as for time, we
+have abundance for our purposes. Reaction is the great power of
+popularity, as I have heard, again and again. It is always the most
+effective, too, at the turn of the tide. Let the public once get
+possessed with the notion that a rumour so injurious has been in
+circulation at the expense of one in my cruel condition, and the current
+of feeling will set the other way in a torrent that nothing can arrest!”
+
+“I take the idea, Miss Mary, which is well enough for certain cases, but
+a little too hazardous for this. Suppose it should be ascertained that
+this report came from us?”
+
+“It never can be, if the caution I directed was observed. You have not
+neglected my advice, Mr. Timms?”
+
+The attorney had not; and great had been his surprise at the ingenuity
+and _finesse_ manifested by this singular woman, in setting afloat a
+report that would certainly act to her injury, unless arrested and
+disproved at a moment most critical in her future fate. Nevertheless, in
+obedience to Mary Monson’s positive commands, this very bold measure had
+been undertaken; and Timms was waiting with impatience for the
+information by means of which he was to counteract these self-inflicted
+injuries, and make them the instruments of good, on the reaction.
+
+If that portion of society which takes delight in gossip could be made
+to understand the real characters of those to whom they commit the
+control of their opinions, not to say principles, there would be far
+more of reserve and self-respect observed in the submission to this
+social evil, than there is at present. Malice, the inward impulses of
+the propagators of a lie, and cupidity, are at the bottom of half the
+tales that reach our ears; and in those cases in which the world in its
+ignorance fancies it has some authority for what it says, it as often
+happens that some hidden motive is at the bottom of the exhibition as
+the one which seems so apparent. There are a set of vulgar vices that
+may be termed the “stereotyped,” they lie so near the surface of human
+infirmities. They who are most subject to their influence always drag
+these vices first into the arena of talk; and fully one-half of that of
+this nature which we hear, has its origin as much in the reflective
+nature of the gossip’s own character, as in any facts truly connected
+with the acts of the subjects of his or her stories.
+
+But Mary Monson was taking a far higher flight than the circulation of
+an injurious rumour. She believed herself to be putting on foot a
+master-stroke of policy. In her intercourse with Timms, so much was said
+of the power of opinion, that she had passed hours, nay days, in the
+study of the means to control and counteract it. Whence she obtained her
+notion of the virtue of reaction it might not be easy to say; but her
+theory was not without its truth; and it is certain that her means of
+producing it were of remarkable simplicity and ingenuity.
+
+Having settled the two preliminaries of the rumour and of Williams’s
+proposition, Timms thought the moment favourable to making a
+demonstration in his own affairs. Love he did not yet dare to propose
+openly; though he had now been, for some time, making covert
+demonstrations towards the tender passion. In addition to the motive of
+cupidity, one of great influence with such a man, Timms’s heart, such as
+it was, had really yielded to the influence of a beauty, manners,
+accomplishments, and information, all of a class so much higher than he
+had been accustomed to meet with, as to be subjects of wonder with him,
+not to say of adoration. This man had his affections as well as another;
+and, while John Wilmeter had submitted to a merely passing inclination,
+as much produced by the interest he took in an unknown female’s
+situation as by any other cause, poor Timms had been hourly falling more
+and more in love. It is a tribute to nature, that this passion can be,
+and is, felt by all. Although a purifying sentiment, the corrupt and
+impure can feel its power, and, in a greater or less degree, submit to
+its influence, though their homage may be tainted by the grosser
+elements that are so largely mixed up with the compound of their
+characters. We may have occasion to show hereafter how far the uncouth
+attorney of Mary Monson succeeded in his suit with his fair client.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXV.
+
+ “I challenge envy,
+ Malice, and all the practices of hell,
+ To censure all the actions of my past
+ Unhappy life, and taint me if they can.”
+ _The Orphan._
+
+
+It is to be presumed that Timms found the means to communicate to
+Williams the rejection of the latter’s offer, before the court met next
+morning. It is certain that the counsel associated with the
+Attorney-General manifested unusual zeal in the performance of duties
+that most men would have found unpleasant, if not painful, and that he
+was captious, short, and ill-natured. Just as Mary Monson came within
+the bar, a letter was put into the hands of Dunscomb, who quietly broke
+the seal, and read it twice, as the observant Timms fancied; then put it
+in his pocket, with a mien so undisturbed that no mere looker-on would
+have suspected its importance. The letter was from Millington, and it
+announced a general want of success in his mission. The whereabouts of
+M. de Larocheforte could not be ascertained; and those who knew anything
+about his movements, were of opinion that he was travelling in the West,
+accompanied by his fair, accomplished, and affluent young consort. None
+of those who would naturally have heard of such an event, had it
+occurred, could say there had ever been a separation between the French
+husband and the American wife. Millington, himself, had never seen his
+kinswoman, there being a coolness of long standing between the two
+branches of the family, and could give little or no information on the
+subject. In a word, he could discover nothing to enable him to carry out
+the clue obtained in the rumour; while, on the other hand, he found a
+certain set, who occupied themselves a good deal with intelligence of
+that sort, were greatly disposed to believe the report, set on foot by
+herself, that Mary Monson was a stool-pigeon of a gang of marauders, and
+doubtless guilty of everything of which she had been accused. Millington
+would remain in town, however, another day, and endeavour to push his
+inquiries to some useful result. Cool, clear-headed, and totally without
+romance, Dunscomb knew that a better agent than his young friend could
+not be employed, and was fain to wait patiently for the discoveries he
+might eventually succeed in making. In the mean time the trial
+proceeded.
+
+“Mr. Clerk,” said his honour, “let the jury be called.”
+
+This was done, and Mary Monson’s lips moved, while a lurking smile
+lighted her countenance, as her eyes met the sympathy that was expressed
+in the countenances of several of the grave men who had been drawn as
+arbiters, in her case, between life and death. To her it was apparent
+that her sex, her youth, perhaps her air and beauty, stood her friends,
+and that she might largely count on the compassion of that small but
+important body of men. One of her calculations had succeeded to the
+letter. The tale of her being a stool-pigeon had been very actively
+circulated, with certain additions and embellishments that it was very
+easy to disprove; and another set of agents had been hard at work, all
+the morning, in brushing away such of the collateral circumstances as
+had, at first, been produced to confirm the main story, and which, in
+now being pulled to pieces as of no account, did not fail to cast a
+shade of the darkest doubt over the whole rumour. All this Mary Monson
+probably understood, and understanding, enjoyed; a vein of wild
+wilfulness certainly running through her character, leading in more
+directions than one.
+
+“I hope there will be no delay on account of witnesses,” observed the
+judge. “Time is very precious.”
+
+“We are armed at all points, your honour, and intend to bring the matter
+to an early conclusion,” answered Williams, casting one of those glances
+at the prisoner which had obtained for him the merited _sobriquet_ of
+“saucy.” “Crier, call Samuel Burton.”
+
+Timms fairly started. This was breaking ground in a new spot, and was
+producing testimony from a source that he much dreaded. The Burtons had
+been the nearest neighbours of the Goodwins, and were so nearly on a
+social level with them, as to live in close and constant communication.
+These Burtons consisted of the man, his wife, and three maiden sisters.
+At one time, the last had conversed much on the subject of the murders;
+but, to Timms’ great discontent, they had been quite dumb of late. This
+had prevented his putting in practice a method of anticipating
+testimony, that is much in vogue, and which he had deliberately
+attempted with these sometime voluble females. As the reader may not be
+fully initiated in the mysteries of that sacred and all-important master
+of the social relations, the law, we shall set forth the manner in which
+justice is often bolstered, when its interests are cared for by
+practitioners of the Timms’ and Williams’ school.
+
+No sooner is it ascertained that a particular individual has a knowledge
+of an awkward fact, than these worthies of the bar set to work to
+extract the dangerous information from him. This is commonly attempted,
+and often effected, by inducing the witness to relate what he knows, and
+by leading him on to make statements that, on being sworn to in court,
+will either altogether invalidate his testimony, or throw so much doubt
+on it as to leave it of very little value. As the agents employed to
+attain this end are not very scrupulous, there is great danger that
+their imaginations may supply the defects in the statements, and
+substitute words and thoughts that the party never uttered. It is so
+easy to mistake another’s meaning, with even the best intentions, that
+we are not to be surprised if this should seriously happen when the
+disposition is to mislead. With the parties to suits, this artifice is
+often quite successful, admissions being obtained, or supposed to be
+obtained, that they never, for an instant, intended to make. In the
+states where speculation has cornered men, and left them loaded with
+debt, these devices of the eaves-droppers and suckers are so common, as
+to render their testimony no immaterial feature in nearly every cause of
+magnitude that is tried. In such a state of society it is, indeed,
+unsafe for a suitor to open his lips on his affairs, lest some one near
+him be employed to catch up his words, and carry them into court with
+shades of meaning gathered from his own imagination.
+
+At first, Timms was under the impression that the Burtons were going to
+sustain the defence, and he was placing himself on the most amiable
+footing with the females, three of whom might very reasonably be placed
+within the category of matrimony with this rising lawyer; but, it was
+not long ere he ascertained that Williams was getting to be intimate,
+and had proved to be a successful rival. Davis, the nephew and heir of
+the Goodwins, was a single man, too, and it is probable that his
+frequent visits to the dwelling of the Burtons had a beneficial
+influence on his own interests. Let the cause be what it might, the
+effect was clearly to seal the lips of the whole family, not a member of
+which could be induced, by any art practised by the agents of Timms, to
+utter a syllable on a subject that now really seemed to be forbidden.
+When, therefore, Burton appeared on the stand, and was sworn, the two
+counsel for the defence waited for him to open his lips, with a profound
+and common interest.
+
+Burton knew the deceased, had lived all his life near them, was at home
+the night of the fire, went to assist the old people, saw the two
+skeletons, had no doubt they were the remains of Peter Goodwin and his
+wife, observed the effects of a heavy blow across the foreheads of each,
+the same that was still to be seen, inferred that this blow had
+destroyed them, or so far stunned them as to leave them incapable of
+escaping from the fire.
+
+This witness was then questioned on the subject of the stocking, and
+Mrs. Goodwin’s hoard of money. He had seen the stocking but once, had
+often heard it mentioned by his sisters, did not think his wife had ever
+alluded to it, did not know the amount of the gold, but supposed it
+might be very considerable, saw the bureau examined, and knew that the
+stocking could not be found. In a word, his testimony in chief went
+generally to sustain the impression that prevailed relative to the
+murders, though it is unnecessary to repeat it in this form, as the
+cross-examination will better explain his statements and opinions.
+
+“Mr. Burton,” said Dunscomb, “you knew the Goodwins well?”
+
+“Very well, sir. As well as near neighbours generally know each other.”
+
+“Can you swear that those are the skeletons of Peter and Dorothy
+Goodwin?”
+
+“I can swear that I _believe_ them to be such—have no doubt of the
+fact.”
+
+“Point out that which you suppose to be the skeleton of Peter Goodwin.”
+
+This request embarrassed the witness. In common with all around him, he
+had no other clue to his facts than the circumstances under which these
+vestiges of mortality had been found, and he did not know what ought to
+be his reply.
+
+“I suppose the shortest of the skeletons to be Peter Goodwin’s, and the
+longest that of his wife,” he at length answered. “Peter was not as tall
+as Dorothy.”
+
+“Which is the shortest of these remains?”
+
+“That I could not say, without measuring. I know that Goodwin was not as
+tall as his wife by half an inch, for I have seen them measure.”
+
+“Then you would say that, in your opinion, the longest of these two
+skeletons is that of Dorothy Goodwin, and the shortest that of her
+husband?”
+
+“Yes, sir; that is my opinion—formed to the best of my knowledge. I have
+seen them measure.”
+
+“Was this measurement accurate?”
+
+“Very much so. They used to dispute about their height, and they
+measured several times, when I was by; generally in their stocking feet,
+and once barefoot.”
+
+“The difference being half an inch in favour of the wife?”
+
+“Yes, sir, as near as could be; for I was umpire more than once.”
+
+“Did Peter Goodwin and his wife live happily together?”
+
+“Tolerable—much as other married folks get along.”
+
+“Explain what you mean by that.”
+
+“Why, there’s ups and downs, I suppose, in all families. Dorothy was
+high-tempered, and Peter was sometimes cross-grained.”
+
+“Do you mean that they quarrelled?”
+
+“They got r’iled with each other, now and then.”
+
+“Was Peter Goodwin a sober man?”
+
+The witness now appeared to be bothered. He looked around him, and
+meeting everywhere with countenances which evidently reflected ‘yes,’ he
+had not the moral courage to run counter to public opinion, and say
+‘no.’ It is amazing what a tyrant this concentration of minds gets to be
+over those who are not very clear-headed themselves, and who are not
+constituted, morally, to resist its influence. It almost possesses a
+power to persuade these persons not to put faith in their own senses,
+and disposes them to believe what they hear, rather than what they have
+seen. Indeed, one effect is to cause them to see with the eyes of
+others. As the ‘neighbours,’ those inquisitors who know so much of
+persons of their association and intimacy, and so little of all others,
+very generally fancied Peter a sober man, Burton scarce knew what to
+answer. Circumstances had made him acquainted with the delinquency of
+the old man, but his allegations would not be sustained were he to speak
+the whole truth, since Peter had succeeded in keeping his infirmity from
+being generally known. To a man like the witness, it was easier to
+sacrifice the truth than to face a neighbourhood.
+
+“I suppose he was much as others,” answered Burton, after a delay that
+caused some surprise. “He was human, and had a human natur’.
+Independence days, and other rejoicings, I’ve known him give in more
+than the temperance people think is quite right; but I shouldn’t say he
+was downright intemperate.”
+
+“He drank to excess, then, on occasions?”
+
+“Peter had a very weak head, which was his greatest difficulty.”
+
+“Did you ever count the money in Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking?”
+
+“I never did. There was gold and paper; but how much I do not know.”
+
+“Did you see any strangers in or about the house of the Goodwins, the
+morning of the fire?”
+
+“Yes; two strange men were there, and were active in helping the
+prisoner out of the window, and afterwards in getting out the furniture.
+They were very particular in saving Mary Monson’s property.”
+
+“Were those strangers near the bureau?”
+
+“Not that I know. I helped carry the bureau out myself; and I was
+present afterwards in court when it was examined for the money. We found
+none.”
+
+“What became of those strangers?”
+
+“I cannot tell you. They were lost to me in the confusion.”
+
+“Had you ever seen them before?”
+
+“Never.”
+
+“Nor since?”
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+“Will you have the goodness to take that rod, and tell me what is the
+difference in length between the two skeletons?”
+
+“I trust, your honour, that this is testimony which will not be
+received,” put in Williams. “The fact is before the jury, and they can
+take cognizance of it for themselves.”
+
+Dunscomb smiled as he answered—
+
+“The zeal of the learned gentleman runs ahead of his knowledge of the
+rules of evidence. Does he expect the jury to measure the remains; or
+are we to show the fact by means of witnesses?”
+
+“This is a cross-examination; and the question is one in chief. The
+witness belongs to the defence, if the question is to be put at all.”
+
+“I think not, your honour. The witness has testified, in chief, that he
+believes these remains to be those of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin; he has
+further said, on his cross-examination, that Dorothy was half an inch
+taller than Peter; we now wish to put to the test the accuracy of the
+first opinion, by comparing the two facts—his knowledge of the
+difference by the former measurement as compared with the present. It
+has been said that these two skeletons are very nearly of a length. We
+wish the truth to be seen.”
+
+“The witness will answer the question,” said the judge.
+
+“I doubt the power of the court to compel a witness to obtain facts in
+this irregular mode,” observed the pertinacious Williams.
+
+“You can note your exceptions, brother Williams,” returned the judge,
+smiling; “although it is not easy to see with what useful consequences.
+If the prisoner be acquitted, you can hardly expect to try her again;
+and, if convicted, the prosecution will scarcely wish to press any
+objection.”
+
+Williams, who was as much influenced by a bull-dog tenacity, as by any
+other motive, now submitted; and Burton took the rod and measured the
+skeletons, an office he might have declined, most probably, had he seen
+fit. The spectators observed surprise in his countenance; and he was
+seen to repeat the measurement, seemingly with more care.
+
+“Well, sir, what is the difference in the length of those skeletons?”
+inquired Dunscomb.
+
+“I make it about an inch and a half, if these marks are to be relied
+on,” was the slow, cautious, well-considered reply.
+
+“Do you now say that you believe these skeletons to be the remains of
+Peter and Dorothy Goodwin?”
+
+“Whose else can they be? They were found on the spot where the old
+couple used to sleep.”
+
+“I ask you to answer _my_ question; I am not here to answer _yours_. Do
+you still say that you believe these to be the skeletons of Peter and
+Dorothy Goodwin?”
+
+“I am a good deal non-plussed by this measurement—though the flesh, and
+skin, and muscles, may have made a considerable difference in life.”
+
+“Certainly,” said Williams, with one of his withering sneers—sneers that
+had carried many a cause purely by their impudence and sarcasm—“Every
+one knows how much more muscle a man has than a woman. It causes the
+great difference in their strength. A bunch of muscles, more or less in
+the heel, would explain all this, and a great deal more.”
+
+“How many persons dwelt in the house of Goodwin at the time of the
+fire?” demanded Dunscomb.
+
+“They tell me Mary Monson was there, and I saw her there during the
+fire; but I never saw her there before.”
+
+“Do you know of any other inmate besides the old couple and the
+prisoner?”
+
+“I did see a strange woman about the house for a week or two before the
+fire, but I never spoke to her. They tell me she was High Dutch.”
+
+“Never mind what they _tell_ you, Mr. Burton”—observed the
+judge—“testify only to what you _know_.”
+
+“Did you see this strange woman at the fire, or after the fire?”
+continued Dunscomb.
+
+“I can’t say that I did. I remember to have looked round for her, too;
+but I did not find her.”
+
+“Was her absence spoken of in the crowd at the time?”
+
+“Something was said about it; but we were too much taken up with the old
+couple to think a great deal of this stranger.”
+
+This is an outline of Burton’s testimony; though the cross-examination
+was continued for more than an hour, and Williams had him again examined
+in chief. That intrepid practitioner contended that the defence had made
+Burton its own witness in all that related to the measurement of the
+skeletons; and that he had a right to a cross-examination. After all
+this contest, the only fact of any moment elicited from the witness
+related to the difference in stature between Goodwin and his wife, as
+has been stated already.
+
+In the mean time, Timms ascertained that the last report set on foot by
+his own agents, at the suggestion of Mary Monson herself, was
+circulating freely; and, though it was directly opposed to the preceding
+rumour, which had found great favour with the gossips, this extravagant
+tale was most greedily swallowed. We conceive that those persons who are
+so constituted, morally, as to find pleasure in listening to the idle
+rumours that float about society, are objects of pity; their morbid
+desire to talk of the affairs of others being a disease that presses
+them down beneath the level they might otherwise occupy. With such
+persons, the probabilities go for nothing; and they are more inclined to
+give credit to a report that excites their interest, by running counter
+to all the known laws of human actions, than to give faith to its
+contradiction, when sustained by every reason that experience sustains.
+Thus was it on the present occasion. There was something so audacious in
+the rumour that Mary Monson belonged to a gang of rogues in town, and
+had been sent especially to rob the Goodwins, that vulgar curiosity
+found great delight in it; the individual who heard the report usually
+sending it on with additions of his own, that had their authority purely
+in the workings of a dull imagination. It is in that way that this great
+faculty of the mind is made to perform a double duty; which in the one
+case is as pure and ennobling, as in the other it is debasing and
+ignoble. The man of a rich imagination, he who is capable of throwing
+the charms of poetical feeling around the world in which we dwell, is
+commonly a man of truth. The high faculty which he possesses seems, in
+such cases, to be employed in ferreting out facts which, on proper
+occasions, he produces distinctly, manfully, and logically. On the other
+hand, there is a species of subordinate imagination that is utterly
+incapable of embellishing life with charms of any sort, and which
+delights in the false. This last is the imagination of the gossip. It
+obtains some modicum of fact, mixes it with large quantities of stupid
+fiction, delights in the idol it has thus fashioned out of its own head,
+and sends it abroad to find worshippers as dull, as vulgar-minded, and
+as uncharitable, as itself.
+
+Timms grew frightened at the success of his client’s scheme, and felt
+the necessity of commencing the reaction at once, if the last were to
+have time in which to produce its effect. He had been warmly opposed to
+the project in the commencement, and had strenuously resisted its
+adoption; but Mary Monson would not listen to his objections. She even
+threatened to employ another, should he fail her. The conceit seemed to
+have taken a strong hold on her fancy; and all the wilfulness of her
+character had come in aid of this strange scheme. The thing was done;
+and it now remained to prevent its effecting the mischief it was so well
+adapted to produce.
+
+All this time, the fair prisoner sat in perfectly composed silence,
+listening attentively to everything that was said, and occasionally
+taking a note. Timms ventured to suggest that it might be better were
+she to abstain from doing the last, as it gave her the air of knowing
+too much, and helped to deprive her of the interesting character of an
+unprotected female; but she turned a perfectly deaf ear to his
+admonitions, hints, and counsel. He was a safe adviser, nevertheless, in
+matters of this sort; but Mary Monson was not accustomed so much to
+follow the leadings of others, as to submit to her own impulses.
+
+The sisters of Burton were next examined. They proved all the admitted
+facts; testified as to the stocking and its contents; and two of them
+recognised the piece of gold which was said to have been found in Mary
+Monson’s purse, as that which had once been the property of Dorothy
+Goodwin. On this head, the testimony of each was full, direct, and
+explicit. Each had often seen the piece of gold, and they had noted a
+very small notch or scratch near the edge, which notch or scratch was
+visible on the piece now presented in court. The cross-examination
+failed to shake this testimony, and well it might, for every word these
+young women stated was strictly true. The experiment of placing the
+piece of coin among other similar coin, failed with them. They easily
+recognized the true piece by the notch. Timms was confounded; Dunscomb
+looked very grave; Williams raised his nose higher than ever; and Mary
+Monson was perfectly surprised. When the notch was first mentioned, she
+arose, advanced far enough to examine the coin, and laid her hand on her
+forehead, as if she pondered painfully on the circumstance. The
+testimony that this was the identical piece found in her purse was very
+ample, the coin having been sealed up and kept by the coroner, who had
+brought it into court; while it must now be admitted that a very strong
+case was made out to show that this foreign coin had once been among the
+hoards of Dorothy Goodwin. A very deep impression was made by this
+testimony on all who heard it, including the court, the bar, the jury
+and the audience. Every person present, but those who were in the
+immediate confidence of the accused, was firmly convinced of Mary
+Monson’s guilt. Perhaps the only other exceptions to this mode of
+thinking were a few experienced practitioners, who, from long habit,
+knew the vast importance of hearing both sides, before they made up
+their minds in a matter of so much moment.
+
+We shall not follow Dunscomb through his long and arduous
+cross-examination of the sisters of Burton; but confine ourselves to a
+few of the more pertinent of the interrogatories that he put to the
+eldest, and which were duly repeated when the other two were placed on
+the stand.
+
+“Will you name the persons dwelling in the house of the Goodwins at the
+time of the fire?” asked Dunscomb.
+
+“There were the two old folks, this Mary Monson, and a German woman
+named Yetty (Jette), that aunt Dorothy took in to wait on her boarders.”
+
+“Was Mrs. Goodwin your aunt, then?”
+
+“No; we wasn’t related no how; but, being such near neighbours, and she
+so old, we just called her aunt by way of a compliment.”
+
+“I understand that,” said Dunscomb, arching his brows—“I am called
+uncle, and by very charming young persons, on the same principle. Did
+you know much of this German?”
+
+“I saw her almost every day for the time she was there, and talked with
+her as well as I could; but she spoke very little English. Mary Monson
+was the only person who could talk with her freely; she spoke her
+language.”
+
+“Had you much acquaintance with the prisoner at the bar?”
+
+“I was some acquainted; as a body always is, when they live such near
+neighbours.”
+
+“Were your conversations with the prisoner frequent, or at all
+confidential?”
+
+“To own the truth, I never spoke to her in my life. Mary Monson was much
+too grand for me.”
+
+Dunscomb smiled; he understood how common it was for persons in this
+country to say they are “well acquainted” with this or that individual,
+when their whole knowledge is derived from the common tongue. An
+infinity of mischief is done by this practice; but the ordinary American
+who will admit that he lives near any one, without having an
+acquaintance with him, if acquaintance is supposed to confer credit, is
+an extraordinary exception to a very general rule. The idea of being
+“too grand” was of a nature to injure the prisoner and to impair her
+rights; and Dunscomb deemed it best to push the witness a little on this
+point.
+
+“Why did you think Mary Monson was ‘too grand’ for you?” he demanded.
+
+“Because she _looked_ so.”
+
+“_How_ did she look?—In what way does or did her looks indicate that she
+was, or thought herself ‘too grand’ for your association?”
+
+“Is this necessary, Mr. Dunscomb?” demanded the judge.
+
+“I beg your honour will suffer the gentleman to proceed,” put in
+Williams, cocking his nose higher than ever, and looking round the
+court-room with an air of intelligence that the great York counsellor
+did not like. “It is an interesting subject; and we poor, ignorant,
+Duke’s county folks, may get useful ideas, to teach us how to look ‘too
+grand!’”
+
+Dunscomb felt that he had made a false step; and he had the self-command
+to stop.
+
+“Had you any conversation with the German woman?” he continued, bowing
+slightly to the judge to denote submission to _his_ pleasure.
+
+“She couldn’t talk English. Mary Monson talked with her, I didn’t, to
+any account.”
+
+“Were you at the fire?”
+
+“I was.”
+
+“Did you see anything of this German during the fire, or afterwards?”
+
+“I didn’t. She disappeared, unaccountable!”
+
+“Did you visit the Goodwins as often after Mary Monson came to live with
+them, as you had done previously?”
+
+“I didn’t—grand looks and grand language isn’t agreeable to me.”
+
+“Did Mary Monson ever speak to you?”
+
+“I think, your honour,” objected Williams, who did not like the
+question, “that this is travelling out of the record.”
+
+“Let the gentleman proceed—time is precious, and a discussion would lose
+us more of it than to let him proceed—go on, Mr. Dunscomb.”
+
+“Did Mary Monson ever speak to you?”
+
+“She never did, to my knowledge.”
+
+“What, then, do you mean by ‘grand language?’”
+
+“Why, when she spoke to aunt Dorothy, she didn’t speak as I was used to
+hear folks speak.”
+
+“In what respect was the difference?”
+
+“She was grander in her speech, and more pretending like.”
+
+“Do you mean louder?”
+
+“No—perhaps she wasn’t as loud as common—but ’twas more like a book, and
+uncommon.”
+
+Dunscomb understood all this perfectly, as well as the feeling which lay
+at its bottom, but he saw that the jury did not; and he was forced to
+abandon the inquiry, as often happens on such occasions, on account of
+the ignorance of those to whom the testimony was addressed. He soon
+after abandoned the cross-examination of the sister of Burton; when his
+wife was brought upon the stand by the prosecution.
+
+This woman, coming from a different stock, had none of the family
+characteristics of the sisters. As they were garrulous, forward, and
+willing enough to testify, she was silent, reserved in manner,
+thoughtful, and seemingly so diffident that she trembled all over, as
+she laid her hand on the sacred volume. Mrs. Burton passed for a very
+good woman among all who dwelt in or near Biberry; and there was much
+more confidence felt in her revelations than in those of her
+sisters-in-law. Great modesty, not to say timidity of manner, an air of
+singular candour, a low, gentle voice, and an anxious expression of
+countenance, as if she weighed the import of every syllable she uttered,
+soon won for this witness the sympathy of all present, as well as
+perfect credence. Every word she uttered had a direct influence on the
+case; and this so much the more since she testified reluctantly, and
+would gladly have been permitted to say nothing.
+
+The account given by Mrs. Burton, in her examination in chief, did not
+materially differ from that previously stated by her sisters-in-law. She
+knew more, in some respects, than those who had preceded her, while, in
+others, she knew less. She had been more in the confidence of Dorothy
+Goodwin than any other member of her family, had seen her oftener, and
+knew more of her private affairs. With the stocking and its contents she
+admitted that she was familiarly acquainted. The gold exceeded twelve
+hundred dollars in amount; she had counted it, in her own hands. There
+was paper, also, but she did not know how much, exactly, as Dorothy kept
+_that_ very much to herself. She knew, however, that her neighbours
+talked of purchasing a farm, the price of which was quite five thousand
+dollars, a sum that Dorothy often talked of paying down. She thought the
+deceased must have had money to that amount, in some form or other.
+
+On the subject of the piece of gold found in Mary Monson’s purse, Mrs.
+Burton gave her testimony with the most amiable discretion. Every one
+compared the reserve and reluctance of her manner most favourably with
+the pert readiness of Mrs. Pope and the sisters. This witness appeared
+to appreciate the effect of all she said, and uttered the facts she knew
+with a gentleness of manner that gave great weight to her testimony.
+Dunscomb soon saw that this was the witness the defence had most reason
+to dread, and he used the greatest care in having every word she said
+written out with precision.
+
+Mrs. Burton swore point blank to the piece of notched gold, although she
+fairly trembled as she gave her testimony. She knew it was the very
+piece that she had often seen in Dorothy Goodwin’s possession; she had
+examined it, at least a dozen times, and could have selected it among a
+thousand similar coins, by means of its private marks. Besides the
+notch, there was a slight defect in the impression of the date. This had
+been pointed out to her by Dorothy Goodwin herself, who had said it was
+a good mark by which to know the piece, should it be stolen. On this
+head, the witness’s testimony was firm, clear, and full. As it was
+corroborated by so much other evidence, the result was a deep and very
+general impression of the prisoner’s guilt.
+
+It was late when the examination in chief of Mrs. Burton terminated. She
+stated that she was much fatigued, and was suffering under a severe
+headache; and Williams asked, in her behalf, that the court would
+adjourn over, until next day, ere the cross-examination was gone into.
+This suited Dunscomb’s views altogether, for he knew he might lose an
+essential advantage by allowing the witness a night to arrange her
+thoughts, pending so searching a process. There being no resistance on
+the part of the prisoner, to the request of the prosecution, the judge
+so far waived his regard for the precious time of the court, as to
+consent to adjourn at eight o’clock in the evening, instead of pushing
+the case to ten or eleven. As a consequence the jurors took their rest
+in bed, instead of sleeping in the jury-box.
+
+Dunscomb left the court-house, that night, dejected, and with no great
+expectation of the acquittal of his client. Timms had a better feeling,
+and thought nothing had yet appeared that might not be successfully
+resisted.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+
+ “I’ve not wrong’d her.”
+ “Far be it from my fears.”
+ “Then why this argument?”
+ “My lord, my nature’s jealous, and you’ll bear it.”
+ _Otway._
+
+
+So great was the confidence of Sarah Wilmeter and Anna Updyke in the
+innocence of their friend, that almost every step that the trial
+advanced, appeared to them as so much progress towards an eventual
+acquittal. It was perhaps a little singular, that the party most
+interested, she who knew her own guilt or innocence, became dejected,
+and for the first half hour after they had left the court-room, she was
+silent and thoughtful. Good Mrs. Gott was quite in despair, and detained
+Anna Updyke, with whom she had established a sort of intimacy, as she
+opened the door of the gallery for the admission of the party, in order
+to say a word on the subject that lay nearest to her heart.
+
+“Oh! Miss Anna,” said the sheriff’s wife, “it goes from bad to worse! It
+was bad enough last evening, and it is worse to-night.”
+
+“Who tells you this, Mrs. Gott? So far from thinking as you do, I regard
+it as appearing particularly favourable.”
+
+“You must have heard what Burton said, and what his wife said, too. They
+are the witnesses I dread.”
+
+“Yes, but who will mind what such persons say! I am sure if fifty Mr.
+and Mrs. Burtons were to testify that Mary Monson had taken money that
+did not belong to her, I should not believe them.”
+
+“You are not a Duke’s county jury! Why, Miss Anna, these men will
+believe almost anything you tell them. Only swear to it, and there’s no
+accounting for their credulity. No; I no more believe in Mary Monson’s
+guilt, than I do in my own; but law is law, they say, and rich and poor
+must abide by it.”
+
+“You view the matter under a false light, my kind-hearted Mrs. Gott, and
+after a night’s rest will see the case differently. Sarah and I have
+been delighted with the course of things. You must have remarked no one
+said that Mary Monson had been seen to set fire to the house, or to harm
+the Goodwins, or to touch their property, or to do anything that was
+wrong; and of course she must be acquitted.”
+
+“I wish that piece of gold had not been found in her pocket! It’s that
+which makes all the trouble.”
+
+“I think nothing of that, my good friend. There is nothing remarkable in
+two pieces of money having the same marks on them; I have seen that
+often, myself. Besides, Mary Monson explains all that, and her
+declaration is as good as that of this Mrs. Burton’s, any day.”
+
+“Not in law, Miss Anna; no, not in law. Out of doors it might be much
+better, and probably is; but not in court, by what they tell me. Gott
+says it is beginning to look very dark, and that we, in the gaol, here,
+must prepare for the very worst. I tell him, if I was he, I’d resign
+before I’d execute such a beautiful creature!”
+
+“You make me shudder with such horrid thoughts, Mrs. Gott, and I will
+thank you to open the door. Take courage, we shall never have to lament
+such a catastrophe, or your husband to perform so revolting a duty.”
+
+“I hope not—I’m sure I hope not, with all my heart. I would prefer that
+Gott should give up all hopes of ever rising any higher, than have him
+do this office. One never knows, Miss Anna, what is to happen in life,
+though I was as happy as a child when he was made sheriff. If my words
+have any weight with him, and he often says they have, I shall never let
+him execute Mary Monson. You are young, Miss Anna; but you’ve heard the
+tongue of flattery, I make no doubt, and know how sweet it is to woman’s
+ear.”
+
+Mrs. Gott had been wiping her eyes with one hand, and putting the key
+into the lock with the other, while talking, and she now stood regarding
+her young companion with a sort of motherly interest, as she made this
+appeal to her experience. Anna blushed ‘rosy red,’ and raised her gloved
+hand to turn the key, as if desirous of getting away from the earnest
+look of the matron.
+
+“That’s just the way with all of us, Miss Anna!” continued Mrs. Gott.
+“We listen, and listen, and listen; and believe, and believe, and
+believe, until we are no longer the gay, light-hearted creatures that we
+were, but become mopy, and sighful, and anxious, to a degree that makes
+us forget father and mother, and fly from the paternal roof.”
+
+“Will you have the kindness, now, to let me into the gaol?” said Anna,
+in the gentlest voice imaginable.
+
+“In a minute, my dear—I call you my dear, because I like you; for I
+never use what Gott calls ‘high flown.’ There is Mr. John Wilmeter, now,
+as handsome and agreeable a youth as ever came to Biberry. He comes here
+two or three times a day, and sits and talks with me in the most
+agreeable way, until I’ve got to like him better than any young man of
+my acquaintance. He talks of you, quite half the time; and when he is
+not _talking_ of you, he is _thinking_ of you, as I know by the way he
+gazes at this very door.”
+
+“Perhaps his thoughts are on Mary Monson,” answered Anna, blushing
+scarlet. “You know she is a sort of client of his, and he has been here
+in her service, for a good while.”
+
+“She hardly ever saw him; scarcely ever, except at this grate. His foot
+never crossed this threshold, until his uncle came; and since, I believe
+he has gone in but once. Mary Monson is not the being he worships.”
+
+“I trust he worships the Being we all worship, Mrs. Gott,” struggling
+gently to turn the key, and succeeding. “It is not for us poor frail
+beings to talk of being worshipped.”
+
+“Or of worshipping, as I tell Gott,” said the sheriff’s wife, permitting
+her companion to depart.
+
+Anna found Mary Monson and Sarah walking together in the gallery,
+conversing earnestly.
+
+“It is singular that nothing reaches us from Michael Millington!”
+exclaimed the last, as Anna interlocked arms with her, and joined the
+party. “It is now near eight-and-forty hours since my uncle sent him to
+town.”
+
+“On my business?” demanded Mary Monson, quickly.
+
+“Certainly; on no other—though what it was that took him away so
+suddenly, I have not been told. I trust you will be able to overturn all
+that these Burtons have said, and to repair the mischief they have
+done?”
+
+“Fear nothing for me, Miss Wilmeter,” answered the prisoner, with
+singular steadiness of manner—“I tell you, as I have often told your
+friend, _I must be acquitted_. Let justice take its course, say I, and
+the guilty be punished. I have a clue to the whole story, as I believe,
+and must make provision for to-morrow. Do you two, dear, warm-hearted
+friends as you are, now leave me; and when you reach the inn, send Mr.
+Dunscomb hither, as soon as possible. Not that Timms; but noble, honest,
+upright Mr. Dunscomb. Kiss me, each of you, and so good night. Think of
+me in your prayers. I am a great sinner, and have need of your prayers.”
+
+The wishes of Mary Monson were obeyed, and the young ladies left the
+gaol for the night. Ten minutes later Dunscomb reached the place, and
+was admitted. His conference with his client was long, intensely
+interesting, and it quite unsettled the notions he had now, for some
+time, entertained of her guilt. She did not communicate any thing
+concerning her past life, nor did she make any promises on that subject;
+but she did communicate facts of great importance, as connected with the
+result of her trial. Dunscomb left her, at a late hour, with views
+entirely changed, hopes revived, and his resolution stimulated. He made
+ample entries in his brief; nor did he lay his head on his pillow until
+it was very late.
+
+The little court-house bell rang as usual, next morning, and judge,
+jurors, witnesses, lawyers, and the curious in general, collected as
+before, without any ceremony, though in decent quiet. The case was now
+getting to be so serious, that all approached it as truly a matter of
+life and death; even the reporters submitting to an impulse of humanity,
+and viewing the whole affair less in a business point of view, than as
+one which might carry a singularly gifted woman into the other world.
+The first act of the day opened by putting Mrs. Burton on the stand, for
+her cross-examination. As every intelligent person present understood
+that on her testimony depended the main result, the fall of a pin might
+almost have been heard, so profound was the general wish to catch what
+was going on. The witness, however, appeared to be calm, while the
+advocate was pale and anxious. He had the air of one who had slept
+little the past night. He arranged his papers with studied care, made
+each movement deliberately, compressed his lips, and seemed to be
+bringing his thoughts into such a state of order and distinctness that
+each might be resorted to as it was needful. In point of fact, Dunscomb
+foresaw that a human life depended very much on the result of this
+cross-examination, and like a conscientious man, he was disposed to do
+his whole duty. No wonder, then, that he paused to reflect, was
+deliberate in his acts, and concentrated in feeling.
+
+“We will first give our attention to this piece of gold, Mrs. Burton,”
+the counsel for the prisoner mildly commenced, motioning to the coroner,
+who was in court, to show the witness the piece of money so often
+examined. “Are you quite certain that it is the very coin that you saw
+in the possession of Mrs. Goodwin?”
+
+“Absolutely certain, sir. As certain as I am of anything in the world.”
+
+“Mrs. Burton, I wish you to remember that the life of the prisoner at
+the bar will, most probably, be affected by your testimony. Be kind
+enough, then, to be very guarded and close in your answers. Do you still
+say that this is the precise coin that you once saw in Mrs. Goodwin’s
+stocking?”
+
+The witness seemed suddenly struck with the manner of the advocate. She
+trembled from head to foot. Still, Dunscomb spoke mildly, kindly even;
+and the idea conveyed in the present, was but a repetition of that
+conveyed in the former question. Nevertheless, those secret agencies, by
+means of which thought meets thought, unknown to all but their
+possessors; that set in motion, as it might be, all the covert currents
+of the mind, causing them to flow towards similar streams in the mind of
+another, were now at work, and Dunscomb and the witness had a clue to
+each other’s meaning that entirely escaped the observation of all around
+them. There is nothing novel in this state of secret intelligence. It
+doubtless depends on a mutual consciousness, and a common knowledge of
+certain material facts, the latter being applied by the former, with
+promptitude and tact. Notwithstanding her sudden alarm, and the change
+it brought over her entire manner, Mrs. Burton answered the question as
+before; what was more, she answered it truly. The piece of gold found in
+Mary Monson’s purse, and now in possession of the coroner, who had kept
+it carefully, in order to identify it, had been in Dorothy Goodwin’s
+stocking.
+
+“Quite certain, sir. I know that to be the same piece of money that I
+saw, at different times, in Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking.”
+
+“Did you ever have that gold coin in your own hand, Mrs. Burton,
+previously to this trial?”
+
+This was a very natural and simple interrogatory; one that might be, and
+probably was, anticipated; yet it gave the witness uneasiness, more from
+the manner of Dunscomb, perhaps, than from anything in the nature of the
+inquiry itself. The answer, however, was given promptly, and, as before,
+with perfect truth.
+
+“On several occasions, sir. I saw that notch, and talked with Mrs.
+Goodwin about it, more than once.”
+
+“What was the substance of Mrs. Goodwin’s remarks, in relation to that
+notch?”
+
+“She asked me, one time, if I thought it lessened the weight of the
+coin; and if so, how much I thought it might take away from its value?”
+
+“What was your answer?”
+
+“I believe I said I did not think it could make any great difference.”
+
+“Did Mrs. Goodwin ever tell you how, or where, she got that piece of
+money?”
+
+“Yes, sir, she did. She told me it came from Mary Monson.”
+
+“In pay for board; or, for what purpose did it pass from one to the
+other?”
+
+This, too, was a very simple question, but the witness no longer
+answered promptly. The reader will remember that Mary Monson had said,
+before the coroner, that she had two of these coins, and that she had
+given one of them to the poor unfortunate deceased, and had left the
+other in her own purse. This answer had injured the cause of the
+accused, inasmuch as it was very easy to tell such a tale, while few in
+Biberry were disposed to believe that gold passed thus freely, and
+without any consideration, from hand to hand. Mrs. Burton remembered all
+this, and, for a reason best known to herself, she shrunk a little from
+making the required reply. Still she did answer this question also, and
+answered it truly.
+
+“I understood aunt Dolly to say that Mary Monson made her a present of
+that piece of money.”
+
+Here Timms elevated his nose, and looked around him in a meaning manner,
+that appealed to the audience to know if his client were not a person of
+veracity. Sooth to say, this answer made a strong impression in favour
+of the accused, and Dunscomb saw with satisfaction that, in-so-much, he
+had materially gained ground. He was not a man to gain it, however, by
+dramatic airs; he merely paused for a few moments, in order to give full
+effect to this advantage.
+
+“Mrs. Goodwin, then, owned to you that she had the coin from Mary
+Monson, and that it was a present?” was the next question.
+
+“She did, sir.”
+
+“Did she say anything about Mary Monson’s having another piece of money,
+like the one before you, and which was given by her to Dorothy Goodwin?”
+
+A long pause succeeded. The witness raised a hand to her brow, and
+appeared to meditate. Her reputation for taciturnity and gravity of
+deportment was such, that most of those in court believed she was
+endeavouring to recollect the past, in order to say neither more nor
+less than the truth. In point of fact, she was weighing well the effect
+of her words, for she was a person of extreme caution, and of great
+reputed probity of character. The reply came at length—
+
+“She did speak on the subject,” she said, “and did state something of
+the kind.”
+
+“Can you recollect her words—if so, give them to the jury—if not her
+very words, their substance.”
+
+“Aunt Dolly had a way of her own in talking, which makes it very
+difficult to repeat her precise words; but she said, in substance, that
+Mary Monson had two of these pieces of money, one of which was given to
+_her_.”
+
+“Mary Monson, then, kept the other?”
+
+“So I understood it, sir.”
+
+“Have you any knowledge yourself, on this subject?—If so, state it to
+the jury.”
+
+Another pause, one even longer than before, and again the hand was
+raised to the brow. The witness now spoke with extreme caution, seeming
+to feel her way among the facts, as a cat steals on its prey.
+
+“I believe I have—a little—some—I have seen Mary Monson’s purse, and I
+_believe_ I saw a piece of money in it which resembled this.”
+
+“Are you not _certain_ of the fact?”
+
+“Perhaps I am.”
+
+Here Dunscomb’s face was lighted with a smile; he evidently was
+encouraged.
+
+“Were you present, Mrs. Burton, when Mary Monson’s purse was examined,
+in presence of the inquest?”
+
+“I was.”
+
+“Did you then see its contents?”
+
+“I did”—after the longest pause of all.
+
+“Had you that purse in your hand, ma’am?”
+
+The brow was once more shaded, and the recollection seemingly taxed.
+
+“I think I had. It was passed round among us, and I believe that I
+touched it, as well as others.”
+
+“Are you not certain that you did so?”
+
+“Yes, sir. Now, I reflect, I know that I did. The piece of money found
+in Mary Monson’s purse, was passed from one to another, and to me, among
+the rest.”
+
+“This was very wrong,” observed his honour.
+
+“It was wrong, sir; but not half as wrong as the murders and arson,”
+coolly remarked Williams.
+
+“Go on, gentlemen—time is precious.”
+
+“Now, Mrs. Burton, I wish to ask you a very particular question, and I
+beg that your answer may be distinct and guarded—did you ever have
+access to the piece of gold found, or said to be found, in Mary Monson’s
+purse, except on the occasion of the inquest?”
+
+The longest pause of all, and the deepest shading of the brow. So long
+was the self-deliberation this time, as to excite a little remark among
+the spectators. Still, it was no more than prudent to be cautious, in a
+cause of so much importance.
+
+“I certainly have, sir,” was the reply that came at last. “I saw it in
+Dorothy Goodwin’s stocking, several times; had it in my hand, and
+examined it. This is the way I came to discover the notch. Aunt Dolly
+and I talked about that notch, as I have already told the court.”
+
+“Quite true, ma’am, we remember that; all your answers are carefully
+written out—”
+
+“I’m sure nothing that I have said can be written out, which is not
+true, sir.”
+
+“We are to suppose that. And now, ma’am, permit me to ask if you ever
+saw that piece of money at any other time than at those you have
+mentioned. Be particular in the answer.”
+
+“I may,” after a long pause.
+
+“Do you not _know_?”
+
+“I do not, sir.”
+
+“Will you say, on your oath, that you cannot recollect any one occasion,
+other than those you have mentioned, on which you have seen and handled
+that piece of money?”
+
+“When aunt Dolly showed it to me, before the coroner, and here in court.
+I recollect no other time.”
+
+“Let me put this question to you again, Mrs. Burton—recalling the
+solemnity of the oath you have taken—have you, or have you not, seen
+that piece of money on any other occasion than those you have just
+mentioned?”
+
+“I do not remember ever to have seen it at any other time,” answered the
+woman, firmly.
+
+Mary Monson gave a little start, and Dunscomb appeared disappointed.
+Timms bit his lip, and looked anxiously at the jury, while Williams once
+more cocked _his_ nose, and looked around him in triumph. If the witness
+spoke the truth, she was now likely to adhere to it; if, on the other
+hand, there were really any ground for Dunscomb’s question, the witness
+had passed the Rubicon, and would adhere to her falsehood even more
+tenaciously than she would adhere to the truth. The remainder of this
+cross-examination was of very little importance. Nothing further was
+obtained from the witness that went to shake her testimony.
+
+Our limits will not permit a detailed account of all the evidence that
+was given in behalf of the prosecution. All that appeared before the
+inquest was now introduced, methodized and arranged by Williams;
+processes that rendered it much more respectable than it had originally
+appeared to be. At length it came to the turn of the defence to open.
+This was a task that Dunscomb took on himself, Timms, in his judgment,
+being unequal to it. His opening was very effective, in the way of
+argument, though necessarily not conclusive, the case not making in
+favour of his client.
+
+The public expected important revelations as to the past history of the
+prisoner, and of this Timms had apprised Dunscomb. The latter, however,
+was not prepared to make them. Mary Monson maintained all her reserve,
+and Millington did not return. The cause was now so far advanced as to
+render it improbable that any facts, of this nature, could be obtained
+in sufficient season to be used, and the counsel saw the necessity of
+giving a new turn to this particular point in the case. He consequently
+complained that the prosecution had neglected to show anything in the
+past life of the accused to render it probable she had been guilty of
+the offences with which she was charged. “Mary Monson appears here,” he
+went on to say, “with a character as fair as that of any other female in
+the community. This is the presumption of law, and you will truly regard
+her, gentlemen, as one that is innocent until she is proved to be
+guilty.” The inference drawn from the silence of the prosecution was not
+strictly logical, perhaps; but Dunscomb managed at least to mystify the
+matter in such a way as to prepare the jury to hear a defence that would
+be silent on this head, and to leave a doubt whether this silence were
+not solely the fault of the counsel for the prosecution. While he was
+commenting on this branch of the subject, Williams took notes furiously,
+and Timms foresaw that he meant to turn the tables on them, at the
+proper moment.
+
+Pretty much as a matter of course, Dunscomb was compelled to tell the
+court and jury that the defence relied principally on the insufficiency
+of the evidence of the other side. This was altogether circumstantial;
+and the circumstances, as he hoped to be able to convince the jury, were
+of a nature that admitted of more than one construction. Whenever this
+was the case, it was the duty of the jury to give the accused the full
+benefit of these doubts. The rest of the opening had the usual character
+of appeals to the sympathy and justice of the jury, very prudently and
+properly put.
+
+Dr. McBrain was now placed upon the stand, when the customary questions
+were asked, to show that he was a witness entitled to the respect of the
+court. He was then further interrogated, as follows:—
+
+“Have you seen the two skeletons that are now in court, and which are
+said to have been taken from the ruins of the house of the Goodwins?”
+
+“I have. I saw them before the inquest; and I have again examined them
+here, in court.”
+
+“What do you say, as to their sex?”
+
+“I believe them both to be the skeletons of females.”
+
+“Do you feel certain of this fact?”
+
+“Reasonably so, but not absolutely. No one can pronounce with perfect
+certainty in such a case; more especially when the remains are in the
+state in which these have been found. We are guided principally by the
+comparative size of the bones; and, as these are affected by the age of
+the subject, it is hazardous to be positive. I can only say that I think
+both of these skeletons belonged to female subjects; particularly the
+shortest.”
+
+“Have you measured the skeletons?”
+
+“I have, and find one rather more than an inch and a half shorter than
+the other. The longest measures quite five feet seven and a half, in the
+state in which it is; while the shortest measures a trifle less than
+five feet six. If women, both were of unusual stature; particularly the
+first. I think that the bones of both indicate that they belonged to
+females; and I should have thought the same had I known nothing of the
+reports which have reached my ears touching the persons whose remains
+these are said to be.”
+
+“When you first formed your opinion of the sex of those to whom these
+remains belonged, had you heard that there was a German woman staying in
+the house of the Goodwins at the time of the fire?”
+
+“I think not; though I have taken so little heed of these rumours as to
+be uncertain when I first heard this circumstance. I do remember,
+however, that I was under the impression the remains were, beyond a
+doubt, those of Peter Goodwin and his wife, when I _commenced_ the
+examination of them; and I very distinctly recollect the surprise I felt
+when the conviction crossed my mind that both were the skeletons of
+women. From the nature of this feeling, I rather think I could not have
+heard anything of the German female at that time.”
+
+The cross-examination of Dr. McBrain was very long and searching; but it
+did not materially affect the substance of his testimony. On the
+contrary, it rather strengthened it; since he had it in his power to
+explain himself more fully under the interrogatories of Williams, than
+he could do in an examination in chief. Still, he could go no farther
+than give his strong belief; declining to pronounce positively on the
+sex of either individual, in the state in which the remains were found.
+
+Although nothing positive was obtained from this testimony, the minds of
+the jurors were pointedly directed to the circumstance of the sudden and
+unexplained disappearance of the German woman; thus making an opening
+for the admission of a serious doubt connected with the fate of that
+person.
+
+It was a sad thing to reflect that, beyond this testimony of McBrain,
+there was little other direct evidence to offer in behalf of the
+accused. It is true, the insufficiency of that which had been produced
+by the prosecution might avail her much; and on this Dunscomb saw that
+his hopes of an acquittal must depend; but he could not refrain from
+regretting, and that bitterly, that the unmoved resolution of his client
+not to let her past life be known, must so much weaken his case, were
+she innocent, and so much fortify that of the prosecution, under the
+contrary supposition. Another physician or two were examined to sustain
+McBrain; but, after all, the condition of the remains was such as to
+render any testimony questionable. One witness went so far as to say, it
+is true, that he thought he could distinguish certain unerring signs of
+the sex in the length of the lower limbs, and in other similar proof;
+but even McBrain was forced to admit that such distinctions were very
+vague and unsatisfactory. His own opinion was formed more from the size
+of the bones, generally, than from any other proof. In general, there
+was little difficulty in speaking of the sex of the subject, when the
+skeleton was entire and well preserved, and particularly when the teeth
+furnished some clue to the age; but, in this particular case, as has
+already been stated, there could be no such thing as absolute certainty.
+
+It was with a heavy heart, and with many an anxious glance cast towards
+the door, in the hope of seeing Michael Millington enter, that Dunscomb
+admitted the prisoner had no further testimony to offer. He had spun out
+the little he did possess, in order to give it an appearance of
+importance which it did not actually bring with it, and to divert the
+minds of the jurors from the impression they had probably obtained, of
+the remains necessarily being those of Goodwin and his wife.
+
+The summing up on both sides was a grave and solemn scene. Here Williams
+was thrown out, the District Attorney choosing to perform his own duty
+on an occasion so serious. Dunscomb made a noble appeal to the justice
+of the court and jury; admonishing both of the danger of yielding too
+easily to circumstantial evidence. It was the best possible proof, he
+admitted, when the circumstances were sufficiently clear and
+sufficiently shown to be themselves beyond controversy. That Mary Monson
+dwelt with the Goodwins, was in the house at the time of the arson and
+murder, if such crimes were ever committed at all; that she escaped and
+all her property was saved, would of themselves amount to nothing. The
+testimony, indeed, on several of these heads, rather told in her favour
+than the reverse. The witnesses for the prosecution proved that she was
+in her room, beneath the roof, when the flames broke out, and was saved
+with difficulty. This was a most material fact, and Dunscomb turned it
+to good account. Would an incendiary be apt to place herself in a
+situation in which her own life was in danger; and this, too, under
+circumstances that rendered no such measure necessary? Then, all the
+facts connected with Mary Monson’s residence and habits told in her
+favour. Why should she remain so long at the cottage, if robbery was her
+only purpose? The idea of her belonging to a gang that had sent her to
+make discoveries and to execute its plans, was preposterous; for what
+hindered any of the men of that gang from committing the crimes in the
+most direct manner, and with the least loss of time? No; if Mary Monson
+were guilty, she was undoubtedly guilty on her own account; and had been
+acting with the uncertain aim and hand of a woman. The jury must discard
+all notions of accomplices, and consider the testimony solely in
+connection with the acts of the accused. Accomplices, and those of the
+nature supposed, would have greatly simplified the whole of the wretched
+transaction. They would have rendered both the murders and arson
+unnecessary. The bold and strong do not commit these crimes, except in
+those cases in which resistance renders them necessary. Here was clearly
+no resistance, as was shown by the quiet positions in which the
+skeletons had been found. If a murder was directly committed, it must
+have been by the blow on the heads; and the jury was asked to consider
+whether a delicate female like Mary Monson had even the physical force
+necessary to strike such a blow. With what instrument was it done?
+Nothing of the sort was found near the bodies; and no proof of any such
+blow was before the jury. One witness had said that the iron-work of a
+plough lay quite near the remains; and it had been shown that Peter
+Goodwin kept such articles in a loft over his bed-room. He would suggest
+the possibility of the fire’s having commenced in that loft, through
+which the pipe of a cooking-stove led; of its having consumed the beams
+of the floor; letting down this plough and share upon the heads of the
+sleeping couple below, stunning, if not killing them; thus leaving them
+unresisting subjects to the action of the element. McBrain had been
+examined on this point, which we omitted to state in its place, to
+prevent repetition. He, and the two other doctors brought forward for
+the defence, had tried to place the ploughshare on the skulls; and were
+of opinion that the injuries might have been inflicted by that piece of
+iron. But Mary Monson could not use such an instrument. This was beyond
+all dispute. If the ploughshare inflicted the blow—and the testimony on
+this point was at least entitled to respect—then was Mary Monson
+innocent of any murder committed by _direct_ means. It is true, she was
+responsible for all her acts; and if she set fire to the building, she
+was probably guilty of murder as well as of arson. But would she have
+done this, and made no provision for her own escape? The evidence was
+clear that she was rescued by means of a ladder, and through a window;
+and that there were no other means of escape.
+
+Dunscomb reasoned on these several points with great force and
+ingenuity. So clear were his statements, so logical his inferences, and
+so candid his mode of arguing, that he had produced a great effect ere
+he closed this branch of his subject. It is true, that one far more
+difficult remained to be met; to answer which he now set about with fear
+and trembling.
+
+We allude to the piece of money alleged to have been found in Mary
+Monson’s purse. Dunscomb had very little difficulty in disposing of the
+flippant widow Pope; but the Burton family gave him more trouble.
+Nevertheless, it was his duty to endeavour to get rid of them, or at
+least so far to weaken their testimony as to give his client the benefit
+of the doubt. There was, in truth, but one mode of doing this. It was to
+impress on the jury the probability that the coin had been changed in
+passing from hand to hand. It is true, it was not easy to suggest any
+plausible reason why such an act of treachery should have been
+committed; but it was a good legal point to show that this piece of
+money had not, at all times, been absolutely under the eye or within the
+control of the coroner. If there were a possibility of a change, the
+fact should and ought to tell in favour of his client. Mrs. Burton had
+made admissions on this point which entitled the prisoner to press the
+facts on the minds of the jurors; and her counsel did not fail so to do,
+with clearness and energy. After all, this was much the most difficult
+point of the case; and it would not admit of a perfectly satisfactory
+solution.
+
+The conclusion of Dunscomb’s summing up was manly, touching, even
+eloquent. He spoke of a lone and defenceless female, surrounded by
+strangers, being dragged to the bar on charges of such gravity; pointed
+to his client where she sat enthralled by his language, with all the
+signs of polished refinement on her dress, person, and manners;
+delicate, feminine, and beautiful; and asked if any one, who had the
+soul and feelings of a man, could believe that such a being had
+committed the crimes imputed to Mary Monson.
+
+The appeal was powerful, and was dwelt on just long enough to give it
+full and fair effect. It left the bench, the bar, the jury-box, the
+whole audience in fact, in tears. The prisoner alone kept an unmoistened
+eye; but it was in a face flushed with feeling. Her self-command was
+almost supernatural.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+ “I’ll brave her to her face:
+ I’ll give my anger its free course against her.
+ Thou shalt see, Phœnix, how I’ll break her pride.”
+ _The Distressed Mother._
+
+
+The District Attorney was fully impressed with the importance of the
+duty that had now devolved on him. Although we have daily proofs on all
+sides of us, of the truth of that remark of Bacon’s, “that no man rises
+to eminence in the State without a mixture of great and mean qualities,”
+this favourite of the people had his good points as well as another. He
+was a humane man; and, contrary to the expectations, and greatly to the
+disappointment of Williams, he now took on himself the office of summing
+up.
+
+The public functionary commenced in a mild, quiet manner, manifesting by
+the key on which he pitched his voice a natural reluctance to his
+painful duty; but he was steady and collected. He opened with a brief
+summary of the facts. A strange female, of high personal pretensions,
+had taken lodgings in an humble dwelling. That dwelling contained a
+considerable sum of money. Some counted it by thousands; all by
+hundreds. In either case, it was a temptation to the covetous and
+ill-disposed. The lodgings were unsuited to the habits of the guest; but
+she endured them for several weeks. A fire occurred, and the house was
+consumed. The remains of the husband and wife were found, as the jury
+saw them, with marks of violence on their skulls. A deadly blow had been
+struck by some one. The bureau containing the money was found locked,
+but the money itself was missing. One piece of that money was known, and
+it was traced to the purse of the female lodger. This stranger was
+arrested; and, in her mode of living in the gaol, in her expenditures of
+every sort, she exhibited the habits and profusion of one possessed of
+considerable sums. Doubtless many of the reports in circulation were
+false; exaggerations ever accompanied each statement of any unusual
+occurrence; but enough was proved to show that Mary Monson had a
+considerable amount of money at command. Whence came these funds? That
+which was lightly obtained went lightly. The jury were exhorted to
+reject every influence but that which was sustained by the evidence. All
+that had been here stated rested on uncontradicted, unresisted
+testimony.
+
+There was no desire to weaken the force of the defence. This defence had
+been ingeniously and powerfully presented; and to what did it amount.
+The direct, unequivocal evidence of Mrs. Burton, as to her knowledge of
+the piece of money, and all that related to it, and this evidence
+sustained by so much that was known to others, the coroner included, was
+met by a _conjecture._ This conjecture was accompanied by an insinuation
+that some might suppose reflected on the principal witness; but it was
+only an insinuation. There were two legal modes of attacking the
+credibility of a witness. One was by showing habitual mendacity; the
+other by demonstrating from the evidence itself, that the testimony
+could not be true. Had either been done in the present instance? The
+District Attorney thought not. One, and this the most common course, had
+not even been attempted. Insinuations, rather than just deductions, he
+was compelled to say, notwithstanding his high respect for the learned
+counsel opposed to him, had been the course adopted. That counsel had
+contended that the circumstances were not sufficient to justify a
+verdict of guilty. Of this, the jury were the sole judges. If they
+believed Mrs. Burton, sustained as she was by so much other testimony,
+they must admit that Dorothy Goodwin’s money was found in Mary Monson’s
+purse. This was the turning point of the case. All depended on the
+construction of this one fact. He left it to the jury, to their good
+sense, to their consciences.
+
+On the part of the defence, great stress had been laid on the
+circumstance that Mary Monson was herself rescued from the flames with
+some difficulty. But for assistance, she would most probably have
+perished. The District Attorney desired to deny nothing that could
+justly go to prove the prisoner’s innocence. The fact was unquestionably
+as stated. But for assistance, Mary Monson _might_ have perished. But
+assistance was _not_ wanting; for strangers were most _opportunely_ at
+hand, and they did this piece of good service. They remained until all
+was over, and vanished. No one knew them; whence they came, or whither
+they went. Important agents in saving a life, they had gone without
+their reward, and were not even named in the newspaper accounts of the
+occurrence. Reporters generally tell more than happens; in this
+instance, they were mute.
+
+As for the danger of the prisoner, it might have happened in a variety
+of ways that affected neither her guilt nor her innocence. After
+committing the murders, she may have gone into her room and been
+unexpectedly enclosed by the flames; or the whole may have been
+previously planned, in order to give her the plea of this very dangerous
+situation, as a proof of innocence. Such immaterial circumstances were
+not to overshadow the very material facts on which the prosecution
+rested.
+
+Another important question was to be asked by the jury. If Mary Monson
+did not commit these crimes, who did? It had been suggested that the
+house might have taken fire by accident, and that the ploughshare was
+the real cause of the death of its owners. If this were so, did the
+ploughshare remove the money?—did the ploughshare put the notched piece
+in Mary Monson’s purse?
+
+Such is an outline of the manner in which the District Attorney reasoned
+on the facts. His summing up made a deep impression; the moderation of
+the manner in which he pressed the guilt of the accused, telling
+strongly against her. Nothing was said of aristocracy, or harps, or
+manners, or of anything else that did not fairly belong to the subject.
+A great deal more was said, of course; but we do not conceive it
+necessary to advert to it.
+
+The charge was exceedingly impartial. The judge made a full exposition
+of all the testimony, pointed out its legitimate bearing, and dissected
+its weak points. As for the opinion of McBrain and his associates, the
+court conceived it entitled to a great deal of consideration. Here were
+several highly respectable professional men testifying that, in their
+judgment, both the skeletons were those of females. The German woman was
+missing. What had become of her? In any case, the disappearance of that
+woman was very important. She may have committed the crimes, and
+absconded; or one of the skeletons may have been hers. It was in
+evidence that Peter Goodwin and his wife did not live always in the most
+happy mood; and he may have laid hands on the money, which was probably
+his in the eyes of the law, and left the place. He had not been seen
+since the fire. The jury must take all the facts into their
+consideration, and decide according to their consciences.
+
+This charge was deemed rather favourable to the accused than otherwise.
+The humanity of the judge was conspicuous throughout; and he leaned
+quite obviously to Dunscomb’s manner of treating the danger of Mary
+Monson from the flames, and dwelt on the fact that the piece of money
+was not sufficiently watched to make out an absolute case of identity.
+When he had done, the impression was very general that the prisoner
+would be acquitted.
+
+As it was reasonably supposed that a case of this importance would
+detain the jury a considerable time, the court permitted the prisoner to
+withdraw. She left the place, attended by her two friends; the latter in
+tears, while Mary herself was still seemingly unmoved. The thoughtful
+Mrs. Gott had prepared refreshments for her; and, for the first time
+since her trial commenced, the fair prisoner ate heartily.
+
+“I shall owe my triumph, not to money, my dear girls,” she said, while
+at table, “not to friends, nor to a great array of counsel; but to
+truth. I did not commit these crimes; and on the testimony of the State
+alone, with scarcely any of my own, the jury will have to say as much.
+No stain will rest on my character, and I can meet my friends with the
+unclouded brow of innocence. This is a very precious moment to me; I
+would not part with it for all the honours that riches and rank can
+bestow.”
+
+“How strange that you, of all women, my dear mamma,” said Anna, kissing
+her cheek, “should be accused of crimes so horrible to obtain a little
+money; for this poor Mrs. Goodwin could have had no great sum after all,
+and you are so rich!”
+
+“More is the pity that I have not made a better use of my money. You are
+to be envied, girls, in having the fortunes of gentlewomen, and in
+having no more. I do believe it is better for our sex barely to be
+independent in their respective stations, and not to be rendered rich.
+Man or woman, money is a dangerous thing, when we come to consider it as
+a part of our natural existence; for it tempts us to fancy that money’s
+worth gives rights that nature and reason both deny. I believe I should
+have been much happier, were I much poorer than I am.”
+
+“But those who are rich are not very likely to rob!”
+
+“Certainly not, in the sense that you mean, my dear. Send Marie Moulin
+on some errand, Anna; I wish to tell you and Sarah what I think of this
+fire, and of the deaths for which I am now on trial.”
+
+Anna complied; and the handsome prisoner, first looking cautiously
+around to make certain she was not overheard, proceeded with her
+opinion.
+
+“In the first place, I make no doubt Dr. McBrain is right, and that both
+the skeletons are those of women. The German woman got to be very
+intimate with Mrs. Goodwin; and as the latter and her husband quarrelled
+daily, and fiercely, I think it probable that she took this woman into
+her bed, where they perished together. I should think the fire purely
+accidental, were it not for the missing stocking.”
+
+“That is just what the District Attorney said,” cried Anna, innocently.
+“Who, then, _can_ have set the house on fire?”
+
+Mary Monson muttered to herself; and she smiled as if some queer fancies
+crowded her brain; but no one was the wiser for her ruminations. These
+she kept to herself, and continued.
+
+“Yes, that missing stocking renders the arson probable. The question is,
+who did the deed; I, or Mrs. Burton?”
+
+“Mrs. Burton!” exclaimed both the girls in a breath. “Why, her character
+is excellent—no one has ever suspected her! You cannot suppose that she
+is the guilty person!”
+
+“It is she, or it is I; which, I will leave you to judge. I was aware
+that the notch was in the coin; for I was about to give the other piece
+to Mrs. Goodwin, but preferred to keep the perfect specimen myself. The
+notched piece must have been in the stocking until _after_ the fire; and
+it was changed by some one while my purse was under examination.”
+
+“And you suppose that Mrs. Burton did it?”
+
+“I confess to a suspicion to that effect. Who else could or _would_ have
+done it? I have mentioned this distrust to Mr. Dunscomb, and he
+cross-examined in reference to this fact; though nothing very
+satisfactory was extracted. After my acquittal, steps will be taken to
+push the inquiry further.”
+
+Mary Monson continued discussing this subject for quite an hour; her
+wondering companions putting questions. At the end of that time, Mr.
+Gott appeared to say that the jury had come into court; and that it was
+his duty to take the prisoner there to meet them.
+
+Perhaps Mary Monson never looked more lovely than at that moment. She
+had dressed herself with great simplicity, but with exceeding care;
+excitement gave her the richest colour; hope, even delight, was glowing
+in her eyes; and her whole form was expanding with the sentiment of
+triumph. There is no feeling more general than sympathy with success.
+After the judge’s charge, few doubted of the result; and on every side,
+as she walked with a light firm step to her chair, the prisoner read
+kindness, sympathy, and exultation. After all that had been said, and
+all the prejudices that had been awakened, Mary Monson was about to be
+acquitted! Even the reporters became a little humanized; had juster
+perceptions than common of the rights of their fellow-creatures; and a
+more smiling, benignant assembly was never collected in that hall. In a
+few minutes, silence was obtained, and the jurors were called. Every man
+answered to his name, when the profound stillness of expectation
+pervaded the place.
+
+“Stand up, Mary Monson, and listen to the verdict,” said the clerk, not
+without a little tremor in his voice. “Gentlemen, what do you say—is the
+prisoner guilty or not guilty?”
+
+The foreman arose, stroked down a few scattering grey hairs, then, in a
+voice barely audible, he pronounced the portentous word “guilty.” Had a
+bomb suddenly exploded in the room, it could not have produced greater
+astonishment, and scarcely more consternation. Anna Updyke darted
+forward, and, as with a single bound, Mary Monson was folded in her
+arms.
+
+“No, no!” cried this warm-hearted girl, totally unconscious of the
+impropriety of her acts; “she is _not_ guilty. You do not know her. I
+_do_. She was my school mamma. She is a lady, incapable of being guilty
+of such crimes. No, no, gentlemen, you will think better of this, and
+alter your verdict—perhaps it was a mistake, and you meant to say, ‘not
+guilty!’”
+
+“Who is this young lady?” asked the judge, in a tremulous voice—“a
+relative of the prisoner’s?”
+
+“No, sir,” answered the excited girl, “no relative, but a very close
+friend. She was my ‘school mamma’ once, and I know she is not a person
+to rob, and murder, and set fire to houses. Her birth, education,
+character, all place her above it. You will think better of this,
+gentlemen, and change your verdict. Now, go at once and do it, or you
+may distress her!”
+
+“Does any one know who this young lady is?” demanded his honour, his
+voice growing more and more tremulous.
+
+“I am Anna Updyke—Dr. McBrain’s daughter, now, and uncle Tom’s niece,”
+answered Anna, scarce knowing what she said. “But never mind _me_—it is
+Mary Monson, here, who has been tried, and who has so wrongfully been
+found guilty. She never committed these crimes, I tell you, sir—is
+incapable of committing them—had no motive for committing them; and I
+beg you will put a stop to these proceedings, before they get so far as
+to make it difficult to recede. Just tell the jury to alter their
+verdict. No, no, Mary Monson is no murderess! She would no more hurt the
+Goodwins, or touch a particle of their gold, than either of us all. You
+do not know her, sir. If you did, you would smile at this mistake of the
+jury, for it is all a cruel mistake. Now do, my dear sir, send them
+away, again, and tell them to be more reasonable.”
+
+“The young lady had better be removed,” interposed the judge, wiping his
+eyes. “Such scenes may be natural, and the court looks on them
+leniently; but time is precious, and my duty renders it necessary to
+interpose my authority to maintain the order of our proceedings. Let
+some of the ladies remove the young lady; she is too delicate for the
+touch of a constable—but time is precious.”
+
+The judge was not precisely conscious, himself, of what he was saying,
+though he knew the general drift of his remarks. The process of blowing
+his nose interrupted his speech, more than once, and Anna was removed by
+the assistance of Marie Moulin, Sarah Wilmeter, and good Mrs. Gott; the
+latter sobbing like a child, while the other two scarce realized the
+consequences of the momentous word that had just been pronounced.
+Dunscomb took care that the whole group should quit the building, and be
+removed to the tavern.
+
+If the bar, and the spectators in general, had been surprised at the
+calmness of exterior maintained by the prisoner, previously to the
+verdict, their wonder was sensibly increased by the manner which
+succeeded it. Mary Monson’s beauty shone with increasing radiance as the
+justice of her country seemed to threaten her existence more and more;
+and at the particular moment when she was left alone, by the withdrawal
+of her female companions, many present fancied that she had increased in
+stature. Certainly, it was a rare sight to observe the illuminated
+countenance, the erect mien, and the offended air, with which one of the
+weaker sex, and one so youthful and charming, met a doom so terrible. Of
+the jury, she took no notice. Her eye was on the judge, who was
+endeavouring to muster sufficient fortitude to pronounce the final
+decision of the law.
+
+“Before the court pronounces sentence, Mr. Dunscomb,” observed that
+functionary, “it will cheerfully hear anything you may have to offer in
+behalf of the prisoner, or it will hear the prisoner herself. It is
+better, on every account, that all my painful duties be discharged at
+once, in order that the prisoner may turn her attention to the only two
+sources of mercy that now remain open to her—the earthly and the
+heavenly. My duty, as you well know, cannot now be avoided; and the
+sooner it is performed, perhaps, the better for all concerned. It shall
+be my care to see that the condemned has time to make all her appeals,
+let them be to the authorities here, or to the more dreaded power
+above.”
+
+“I am taken so much by surprise, your honour, at a verdict that, to say
+the least, is given on very doubtful testimony, that I hardly know what
+to urge. As the court, however, is disposed to indulgence, and there
+will be time to look at the law of the case, as well as to address our
+petitions and affidavits to the authority at Albany, I shall interpose
+no objection; and, as your honour well remarks, since the painful duty
+_must_ be discharged, it were better, perhaps, that it were discharged
+now.”
+
+“Prisoner at the bar,” resumed the judge, “you have heard the finding of
+the jury, in your case. A verdict of ‘guilty’ has been rendered, and it
+has become my painful duty to pronounce the awful sentence of the law.
+If you have anything to say previously to this, the last and most
+painful of all my duties, the court will give your words a kind and
+lenient hearing.”
+
+In the midst of a stillness that seemed supernatural, the sweet,
+melodious voice of Mary Monson was heard, “first gentle, almost
+inaudible,” but gathering strength as she proceeded, until it became
+clear, distinct, and silvery. There are few things that impart a higher
+charm than the voice; and the extraordinary prisoner possessed an organ
+which, while it was feminine and sweet, had a depth and richness that at
+once denoted her power in song. On the present occasion, it was not even
+tremulous.
+
+“I believe I understand you, sir,” Mary Monson commenced. “I have been
+tried and found guilty of having murdered Peter and Dorothy Goodwin,
+after having robbed them, and then of setting fire to the house.”
+
+“You have been tried for the murder of Peter Goodwin, only, the
+indictments for the second murder, and for the arson, not having yet
+been tried. The court has been obliged to separate the cases, lest the
+law be defeated on mere technicalities. This verdict renders further
+proceedings unnecessary, and the two remaining indictments will probably
+never be traversed.”
+
+“I believe I still understand you, sir; and I thank you sincerely for
+the kind manner in which you have communicated these facts, as well as
+for the consideration and gentleness you have manifested throughout
+these proceedings. It has been very kind in you, sir; and whatever may
+come of this, God will remember and reward you for it.”
+
+“The court will hear you, Mary Monson, if you have anything to say,
+before sentence be passed.”
+
+“Perhaps I might say and do much to affect your decision, sir,” returned
+the prisoner, leaning her fair brow, for a moment, on her hand, “but
+there would be little satisfaction in it. It was my wish to be acquitted
+on the testimony of the State. I did hope that this jury would not have
+seen the proofs of guilt, in the evidence that has been brought against
+me; and I confess there would be very little satisfaction to me in any
+other acquittal. As I understand the case, should I be acquitted as
+respects Peter Goodwin, I must still be tried as respects his wife; and
+lastly, for setting fire to the house.”
+
+“You are not acquitted of the murder of Peter Goodwin,” mildly
+interposed the judge; “the finding of the court has been just to the
+contrary.”
+
+“I am aware of this, sir. America has many enemies. I have lived in
+foreign lands, and know this from near and long observation. There are
+those, and those, too, who are in power, that would gladly see the great
+example in prosperity, peace and order, that this country has hitherto
+given to the world, beaten down by our own vices, and the mistaken uses
+to which the people put the blessings of Divine Providence. I do not
+reverence the justice of my country, as I did: it is impossible that I
+should do so. I now see plainly that its agents are not all of the
+character they should be; and that, so far from Justice’s being blind
+through her impartiality alone, she is also blind through her ignorance.
+Why am I found guilty of this act? On what evidence—or even on what
+probability? The whole of the proof is connected with that piece of
+money. Mrs. Burton has testified that Mrs. Goodwin, herself, admitted
+that I had given her that coin—just what I told the coroner, and which I
+then saw was not believed, for it has been my misfortune to be tried by
+strangers. Will these gentlemen ask themselves why I have committed the
+crime of which they have found me guilty? It could not be for money; as
+of that I have, of my own, more than I want, more, perhaps, than it is
+good for me to be mistress of.”
+
+“Why have not these facts been shown to the jury, at the proper time and
+in the proper manner, if true?” demanded the judge, kindly. “They are
+material, and might have influenced the verdict.”
+
+The jury was discharged, but not one of them all had left the box. One
+or two of them now arose, and looks of doubt and indecision began to
+flicker over their countenances. They had been influenced by one man, a
+friend and political confidant of Williams, who had led the undecided to
+his own opinions. We do not mean to say that this man was perjured, or
+that he was himself conscious of the extent of the wrong he was doing;
+but his mind had been perverted by the serpent-like report, and he had
+tried the cause under the influence of rumours, which had no foundation
+in truth. The case was one of honest doubt, as no one will deny; but
+instead of giving the accused the benefit of this doubt, as by law and
+in reason he was bound to do, he had taken a bias altogether from
+outside influences, and that bias he communicated to others, until by
+the sheer force of numbers, the few who wavered were driven into a
+corner, and soon capitulated. Then, there was a morbid satisfaction in
+the minds of several of the jurors, in running counter to the charge of
+the judge. This was a species of independence that is grateful to some
+men, and they are guided by their vanity, when they fancy they are only
+led by conscience. These malign influences were unknown to themselves;
+for not one of the twelve was absolutely corrupt, but neither of them
+all was qualified by nature, or education, to be a judge, freed from the
+influence of the bench, in a case affecting a human life.
+
+Any one in the least observant of what is going on around him, must have
+had many opportunities of perceiving how strangely juries render their
+verdicts, and how much the last appear to be opposed to the inferences
+of the looker-on, as well as to the expressed opinions of the courts.
+The falling off in the power of the judges over the minds of the jurors,
+we suppose to be derived from a combination of causes. The tendency of
+the times is to make men confident in their own judgments, and to defer
+less than formerly to knowledge and experience. Seeing this very general
+trait, the judges themselves defer to the tendency, manifest less
+confidence in their station and knowledge, and perhaps really feel it;
+while the unceasing cry of the infallibility of the common mind, induces
+the vulgar, or average intellect, to shrink from any collision with that
+which wears the semblance, even though simulated, of the popular will.
+In this way is the institution of the jury gradually getting to be
+perverted, rendering that which is safe as an human tribunal can well
+be, when under the guidance of the court, as dangerous as ignorance,
+party, self-will and obstinacy can well make it.
+
+“I do not know,” resumed Mary Monson, “that one is yet obliged, in
+America, to lay open her account-books, and show her rent-roll, or her
+bonds and mortgages, in order to avoid the gallows. I have been told
+that crime must be brought home by unanswerable proof, in order to
+convict. Who can say that such proof has been adduced in my case? It has
+not even been made certain that a man was killed, at all. Most
+respectable witnesses have testified that they believe those revolting
+remains of poor humanity, belonged once to women. Nor has it been shown
+that any one has been murdered. The fire may have been accidental, the
+deaths a simple consequence of the fire, and no one guilty.”
+
+“You forget, Mary Monson,” interposed the judge, mildly “that the
+robbery, and the piece of money found in your purse, give a colour to
+the supposition of crime. The jury have doubtless been influenced by
+these facts, and important facts they are. No one can deny this; and I
+think you overlook that feature of your case. If, however, your counsel
+has any good reason to offer why sentence should not now be pronounced,
+the court will hear it. There is no impatience on the part of justice,
+which would much rather draw in than stretch forth its arm. Perhaps,
+Mary Monson, you might do well to leave to your counsel the objections
+you wish to urge, and let them be presented to us in a form that we can
+recognise.”
+
+“I see no great use in deferring the sentence,” Dunscomb remarked,
+quietly enough for the circumstances. “It must be pronounced; and any
+question of law, should one occur to my mind, though I confess none does
+at present, can as well be raised after this ceremony as before.”
+
+“I am disposed to wait, if a good reason can be urged for the delay. I
+will acknowledge that the case is one involved in a great deal of doubt
+and uncertainty, and am much inclined to do all the law will sanction.
+Still, I leave you to decide on your own course.”
+
+“In my judgment, may it please your honour, we shall have to go to the
+executive, and it were, perhaps, better to get all the most revolting
+parts of the case over, while the accused—”
+
+“Convicted, Mr. Dunscomb—it is a distinction painful to make, but one
+that cannot now be avoided.”
+
+“I beg pardon of the court—convicted.”
+
+“Yes,” said Mary Monson, solemnly, “I am convicted, and of the revolting
+crime of murder. All my hopes of a triumphant acquittal are blasted;
+and, whatever may be the termination of this extraordinary affair, a
+dark spot will always rest on my name. Sir, I am as innocent of this
+crime as the youngest child in your county. I may have been wilful,
+perverse, ill-judging, unwise, and have a hundred other failings; but
+neither Peter nor Dorothy Goodwin did I ever harm. I had not been long
+in the house before I discovered that the old couple were not happy
+together. They quarrelled often, and bitterly. The wife was managing,
+dictatorial, and sordidly covetous, while he used every shilling he
+could obtain, for the purchase of liquors. His mind was affected by his
+debauches, and he drivelled. In this state, he came to me for sympathy
+and advice. There were passages in my own past life, short as it has
+been, which disposed me to feel for one who was not happy in the married
+state. It is no matter what my own experience has been; I had sympathy
+for that poor man. So far from wishing to do him harm, I desired to do
+him good. I advised him to quit the house, and live apart from his wife,
+for a time, at least; and this he consented to do, if I would furnish
+him with the means. Those means I promised; and, that he might not
+suffer, being of only feeble intellect, and in order to keep him from
+liquor, I had directed two of my agents to come to the house early in
+the morning of the very day that the fire happened, that they might
+convey Peter Goodwin to another residence, where he would be secret and
+safe, until his wife might repent of her treatment of him. It was
+fortunate for me that I had done this. Those two men, servants of my
+own, in the dress of countrymen, were the instruments of saving my life;
+without their aid, I should have perished in the flames. What they did,
+and how they did it, it would be premature now to say. Alas! alas! I
+have not been acquitted as I desired to be, and a dark shadow will for
+ever rest on my name!”
+
+For the first time, a doubt of the sanity of the prisoner, crossed the
+mind of the judge. It was not so much the incoherence of her language,
+as her eye, the flushed cheek, and a certain air of stealthy cunning,
+that awakened this distrust. Nevertheless, Mary Monson’s manner was
+sincere, her language chosen and perfectly proper, and her explanations
+not without their force. There was something so strange, however, in a
+portion of her statements; so irreconcileable with a sound discretion,
+that, taken with the little which had come to light concerning this
+singular woman’s past life, the doubt arose.
+
+“Perhaps it were better, Mr. District Attorney,” the judge observed, “if
+we delay the sentence.”
+
+“As your honour may think fit. The state is not over-anxious for life.”
+
+“What say you, Mr. Dunscomb—shall there be delay, or shall I sentence?”
+
+“As the sentence _must_ come, the sooner it is over, the better. We have
+no ground on which to carry up the case, the jury being judges of the
+facts. Our principal hope must be in the discretion of the governor.”
+
+“Mary Monson,” continued the judge, evidently treating the affair as
+purely a matter of form, “you have been tried for feloniously depriving
+Peter Goodwin of his life—”
+
+“I never did it,” interrupted the prisoner, in a voice so low as to be
+melodious, yet so clear as to be audible as the sound of a clarion.
+“These men have been influenced by the rumours they have heard, and were
+not fit to act as my judges. Men should have minds superior to mere
+reports, to sit in that box.”
+
+“My duty is to pronounce the sentence of the law. After a fair trial,
+and, so far as it appears to us, by an impartial jury, you have been
+found guilty. For reasons that are of sufficient weight to my mind, I
+shall not dwell on the character of the awful change you will have to
+undergo, should this decree be put in force, but confine myself simply
+to the duty of pronouncing the sentence of the law, which is this: that
+you be carried back to the gaol, and there be guarded, until Friday, the
+sixth day of September next, when between the hours of twelve and two,
+P. M., you be carried to the place of execution, and hanged by the neck,
+until you are dead—and God have mercy on your soul!”
+
+A shudder passed through the audience, at hearing language like this
+applied to a person of Mary Monson’s appearance, education and sex. This
+feeling might have manifested itself more strongly, had not Mrs. Horton
+attracted attention to herself, by forcing her way through the crowd,
+until she stood within the bar. Here the good woman, accustomed to bandy
+words with her guests, did not scruple to make her presence known to the
+court, by calling out—
+
+“They tell me, your honour, that Mary Monson has just been found guilty
+of the murder of Peter Goodwin?”
+
+“It is so, my good woman—but that case is ended. Mr. Sheriff, remove the
+prisoner—time is precious—”
+
+“Yes, your honour, and so is eternity. Mary Monson is no more guilty of
+taking the life of Peter Goodwin than I am guilty. I’ve always said some
+great disgrace would befall our juries, one of these days, and now my
+prophecy will come true. Duke’s is disgraced. Constable, let that poor
+man come within the bar.”
+
+The drivelling creature who entered the room of McBrain tottered
+forward, when twenty voices cried aloud the name of “_Peter Goodwin._”
+Every word that Mary Monson had stated was true!
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+ “Now Marcia, now call up to thy assistance,
+ Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind;
+ Thou can’st not put it to a greater trial.”
+ _Addison._
+
+
+Bench, bar, jury, witnesses and audience, were all astounded. The trial
+had been carried on in the most perfect good faith; and not a human
+being but the few who had felt the force of McBrain’s testimony, doubted
+of the death of the individual who now appeared alive, if not well, in
+open court. The reader can better imagine than we can describe, the
+effects of a resurrection so entirely unexpected.
+
+When the confusion naturally produced by such a scene had a little
+subsided; when all had actually seen, and many had actually felt, the
+supposed murdered man, as if to assure themselves of his being really in
+the flesh, order was restored; and the court and bar began to reflect on
+the course next to be pursued.
+
+“I suppose, Mr. District Attorney,” observed his honour, “there is no
+mistake in the person of this individual; but it were better if we had
+an affidavit or two. Will you walk this way, sir?”
+
+A long, private conference, now took place between the public prosecutor
+and the judge. Each expressed his astonishment at the result, as well as
+some indignation at the deception which had been practised on the court.
+This indignation was a little mollified by the impression, now common to
+both, that Mary Monson was a person not exactly in her right mind. There
+was so much deception practised among persons accused of crimes,
+however, and in connection with this natural infirmity, that public
+functionaries like themselves were necessarily very cautious in
+admitting the plea. The most offensive part of the whole affair was the
+discredit brought on the justice of Duke’s! It was not in nature for
+these individuals to be insensible to the sort of disgrace the
+reappearance of Peter Goodwin entailed on the county and circuit; and
+there was a very natural desire to wipe off the stain. The conference
+lasted until the affidavits to establish the facts connected with
+Goodwin’s case were ready.
+
+“Had these affidavits been presented earlier,” said his honour, as soon
+as the papers were read, “sentence would not have been pronounced. The
+case is novel, and I shall want a little time to reflect on the course I
+am to take. The sentence must be gotten rid of by some means or other;
+and it shall be my care to see it done. I hope, brother Dunscomb, the
+counsel for the accused have not been parties to this deception?”
+
+“I am as much taken by surprise as your honour can possibly be,”
+returned the party addressed, with earnestness, “not having had the most
+remote suspicion of the existence of the man said to have been murdered;
+else would all the late proceedings have been spared. As to the course
+to be taken next, I would respectfully suggest that the Code be
+examined. It is an omnium gatherum; and must contain something to tell
+us how to undo all we have done.”
+
+“It were better for all parties had they so been. There are still two
+indictments pending over Mary Monson; one for the arson, and the other
+for the murder of Dorothy Goodwin. Mr. District Attorney feels the
+necessity of trying these cases, or one of them at least, in vindication
+of the justice of the State and county; and I am inclined to think that,
+under all the circumstances, this course should be taken. I trust we
+shall have no more surprises, and that Dorothy Goodwin will be brought
+forward at once, if still living—time is precious.”
+
+“Dorothy Goodwin is dead,” said Mary Monson, solemnly. “Poor woman! she
+was called away suddenly, and in her sins. Little fear of her ever
+coming here to flout your justice.”
+
+“It may be well to caution your client, Mr. Dunscomb, against hasty and
+indiscreet admissions. Let the accused be arraigned, and a jury be
+empannelled. Which case do you choose to move on, Mr. District
+Attorney?”
+
+Dunscomb saw that his honour was offended, and much in earnest. He was
+offended himself, and half disposed to throw up his brief; but he felt
+for the situation of a lovely and defenceless woman. Then his doubts
+touching his client’s sanity began to take the character of certainty;
+and he saw how odious it would be to abandon one so afflicted in her
+emergency. He hinted his suspicion to the court; but was told that the
+fact, under all the circumstances of the case, was one properly for the
+jury. After reflection, the advocate determined not to desert his trust.
+
+We pass over the preliminary proceedings. A jury was empannelled with
+very little difficulty; not a challenge having been made. It was
+composed, in part, of those who had been in the box on the late
+occasion; and, in part, of new men. There was an air of earnestness and
+business about them all, that Timms did not like; but it was too late to
+raise objections. To own the truth, the senior counsel cared much less
+than before for the result; feeling satisfied that his contemplated
+application at Albany would meet with consideration. It is true, Mary
+Monson was no anti-renter. She could not come forward with her demand
+for mercy with hands dyed in the blood of an officer of that public
+which lives under the deception of fancying it rules the land; murderers
+who added to their crimes the hateful and pestilent fraud of attempting
+to cloak robbery in the garb of righteous liberty; nor could she come
+sustained by numbers around the ballot-box, and bully the executive into
+acts which the reason and conscience of every honest man condemn; but
+Dunscomb believed that she might come with the plea of a being visited
+by the power of her Creator, in constituting her as she was, a woman not
+morally accountable for her acts.
+
+All the leading facts, as shown on the former trial, were shown on this.
+When the country practitioners were called on to give their opinions
+concerning the effect of the blow, they necessarily became subject to
+the cross-examination of the counsel for the prisoner, who did not spare
+them.
+
+“Were you examined, sir, in the late trial of Mary Monson, for the
+murder of Peter Goodwin?” demanded Dunscomb of the first of these modern
+Galens who was put on the stand.
+
+“I was, sir.”
+
+“What did you say on that occasion”—looking at his notes of the other
+trial, “touching the sex of the persons to whom those skeletons were
+thought to have belonged?”
+
+“I said I _believed_—not _knew_, but _believed_, they were the remains
+of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin.”
+
+“Did you not use stronger language than that?”
+
+“Not that I remember—I may have done so; but I do not remember it.”
+
+“Did you not say you had ‘_no doubt_’ that those were the remains of
+Peter and Dorothy Goodwin?”
+
+“I may have said as much as that. Now you mention the words, I believe I
+did.”
+
+“Do you think so now?”
+
+“Certainly not. I cannot think so, after what I have seen.”
+
+“Do you know Peter Goodwin, personally?”
+
+“Very well. I have practised many years in this neighbourhood.”
+
+“Whom, then, do you say that this unfortunate man here, whom we see
+alive, though a driveller, really is?”
+
+“Peter Goodwin—he who was thought to have been murdered. We are all
+liable to mistakes.”
+
+“You have testified in chief that, in your judgment, the two persons, of
+whom we have the remains here in court, were stunned at least, if not
+absolutely killed, by the blow that you think fractured each of their
+skulls. Now, I would ask if you think the prisoner at the bar possesses
+the physical force necessary to enable her to strike such a blow?”
+
+“That would depend on the instrument she used. A human skull may be
+fractured easily enough, by a moderate blow struck by a heavy
+instrument.”
+
+“What sort of instrument, for instance?”
+
+“A sword—a bar of iron—or anything that has weight and force.”
+
+“Do you believe those fractures were given by the same blow?”
+
+“I do. By one and the same blow.”
+
+“Do you think Mary Monson possesses the strength necessary to cause
+those two fractures at a single blow?”
+
+Witness had no opinion on the subject.
+
+“Are the fractures material?”
+
+“Certainly—and must have required a heavy blow to produce them.”
+
+This was all that could be got from either of the witnesses on that
+material point. As respected McBrain, he was subsequently examined in
+reference to the same facts. Dunscomb made good use of this witness, who
+now commanded the respect of all present. In the first place, he was
+adroitly offered to the jury, as the professional man who had, from the
+first, given it as his opinion that both the skeletons were those of
+females; and this in the face of all the collected wisdom of Duke’s
+county; an opinion that was now rendered so probable as almost to amount
+to certainty. He (Dunscomb) believed most firmly that the remains were
+those of Dorothy Goodwin and the German woman who was missing.
+
+“Have you examined those skeletons, Dr. McBrain?” Dunscomb asked.
+
+“I have, sir; and carefully, since the late trial.”
+
+“How do you think the persons to whom they belonged came to their
+deaths?”
+
+“I find fractures in the skulls of both. If they lie now as they did
+when the remains were found, (a fact that had been proved by several
+witnesses,) I am of opinion that a single blow inflicted the injuries on
+both; it may be, that blow was not sufficient to produce death; but it
+must have produced a stupor, or insensibility, which would prevent the
+parties from seeking refuge against the effects of the flames——”
+
+“Is the learned witness brought here to sum up the cause?” demanded
+Williams, with one of those demoniacal sneers of his, by means of which
+he sometimes carried off a verdict. “I wish to know, that I may take
+notes of the course of his argument.”
+
+McBrain drew back, shocked and offended. He was naturally diffident, as
+his friend used to admit, in everything but wives; and as regarded them
+“he had the impudence of the devil. Ned would never give up the trade
+until he had married a dozen, if the law would see him out in it. He
+ought to have been a follower of the great Mahomet, who made it a point
+to take a new wife at almost every new moon!” The judge did not like
+this sneer of Williams; and this so much the less, because, in common
+with all around him, he had imbibed a profound respect for the knowledge
+of the witness. It is true, he was very much afraid of the man, and
+dreaded his influence at the polls; but he really had too much
+conscience to submit to everything. A judge may yet have a conscience—if
+the Code will let him.
+
+“This is very irregular, Mr. Williams, not to say improper,” his honour
+mildly remarked. “The witness has said no more than he has a right to
+say; and the court must see him protected. Proceed with your testimony,
+sir.”
+
+“I have little more to say, if it please the court,” resumed McBrain,
+too much dashed to regain his self-possession in a moment. As this was
+all Williams wanted, he permitted him to proceed in his own way; and all
+the doctor had to say was soon told to the jury. The counsel for the
+prosecution manifested great tact in not cross-examining the witness at
+all. In a subsequent stage of the trial, Williams had the impudence to
+insinuate to the jury that they did not attach sufficient importance to
+his testimony, to subject him to this very customary ordeal.
+
+But the turning point of this trial, as it had been that of the case
+which preceded it, was the evidence connected with the piece of money.
+As the existence of the notch was now generally known, it was easy
+enough to recognise the coin that had been found in Mary Monson’s purse;
+thus depriving the accused of one of her simplest and best means of
+demonstrating the ignorance of the witnesses. The notch, however, was
+Mrs. Burton’s great mark, under favour of which her very material
+testimony was now given as it had been before.
+
+Dunscomb was on the point of commencing the cross-examination, when the
+clear melodious voice of Mary Monson herself was heard for the first
+time since the commencement of the trial.
+
+“Is it permitted to _me_ to question this witness?” demanded the
+prisoner.
+
+“Certainly,” answered the judge. “It is the right of every one who is
+arraigned by the country. Ask _any_ question that you please.”
+
+This was a somewhat liberal decision as to the right of cross-examining;
+and the accused put on it a construction almost as broad as the
+privilege. As for the witness, it was very apparent she had little taste
+for the scrutiny that she probably foresaw she was about to undergo; and
+her countenance, attitude, and answers, each and all betrayed how much
+distaste she had for the whole procedure. As permission was obtained,
+however, the prisoner did not hesitate to proceed.
+
+“Mrs. Burton,” said Mary Monson, adopting, as well as she knew how, the
+manner of the gentlemen of the bar, “I wish you to tell the court and
+jury _when_ you first saw the notched piece of money?”
+
+“When I first saw it? I saw it first, when aunt Dolly first showed it to
+me,” answered the witness.
+
+Most persons would have been dissatisfied with this answer, and would
+probably have caused the question to be repeated in some other form; but
+Mary Monson seemed content, and went on putting her questions, just as
+if she had obtained answers to meet her views.
+
+“Did you examine it well?”
+
+“As well as I desired to. There was nothing to prevent it.”
+
+“Did you know it immediately, on seeing it in my purse?”
+
+“Certainly—as soon as I saw the notch.”
+
+“Did Mrs. Goodwin point out the notch to you, or did you point out the
+notch to her?”
+
+“She pointed it out to me; she feared that the notch might lessen the
+value of the coin.”
+
+“All this I have heard before; but I now ask you, Mrs. Burton, in the
+name of that Being whose eye is everywhere, did you not yourself put
+that piece of money in my purse, when it was passing from hand to hand,
+and take out of it the piece without a notch? Answer me, as you have a
+regard for your soul?”
+
+Such a question was altogether out of the rules regulating the queries
+that may be put to witnesses, an answer in the affirmative going
+directly to criminate the respondent; but the earnest manner, solemn
+tones, and, we may add, illuminated countenance of Mary Monson, so far
+imposed on the woman, that she quite lost sight of her rights, if she
+ever knew them. What is much more remarkable, neither of the counsel for
+the prosecution interposed an objection. The District Attorney was
+willing that justice should have its way; and Williams began to think it
+might be prudent to manifest less anxiety for a conviction than he had
+done in the case in which the party murdered had been resuscitated. The
+judge was entranced by the prisoner’s manner.
+
+“I believe I have as much regard for my soul as any of the neighbours
+have for theirs,” answered Mrs. Burton, sullenly.
+
+“Let us learn that in your reply—Did you, or did you not, change those
+pieces of gold?”
+
+“Perhaps I might—It’s hard to say, when so much was said and done.”
+
+“How came you with the other piece, with which to make the exchange?
+Answer, Sarah Burton, as you fear God?”
+
+The witness trembled like an aspen-leaf. So remarkable was the scene,
+that no one thought of interfering; but the judge, the bar, and the
+jury, seemed equally willing to leave the two females to themselves, as
+the most efficient means of extorting the truth. Mary Monson’s colour
+heightened; her mien and countenance grew, as it were, with the
+occasion; while Sarah Burton’s became paler and paler, as each question
+was put, and the reply pressed.
+
+“I can have money, I hope, as well as other folks,” answered the
+witness.
+
+“That is no reply. How came you with the piece of gold that is notched,
+that you could exchange it for the piece which was not notched, and
+which was the one really found in my purse? Answer me that, Sarah
+Burton; here, where we both stand in the presence of our great Creator?”
+
+“There’s no need of your pressing a body so awfully—I don’t believe it’s
+law.”
+
+“I repeat the question—or I will answer it for you. When you fired the
+house——”
+
+The woman screamed, and raised her hands in natural horror
+
+“I never set the house on fire,” she cried—“It took from the stove-pipe
+in the garret, where it had taken twice before.”
+
+“How can you know _that_, unless you saw it?—How see it, unless
+present?”
+
+“I was _not_ there, and did not see it; but I know the garret had caught
+twice before from that cook-stove-pipe. Aunt Dolly was very wrong to
+neglect it as she did.”
+
+“And the blows on the head—who struck those blows, Sarah Burton?”
+
+“How can I tell? I wasn’t there—no one but a fool could believe _you_
+have strength to do it.”
+
+“How, then, _was_ it done? Speak—I see it in your mind?”
+
+“I saw the ploughshare lying on the heads of the skeletons; and I saw
+Moses Steen throw it off, in the confusion of first raking the embers.
+Moses will be likely to remember it, if sent for, and questioned.”
+
+Here was a most important fact elicited under the impulse of
+self-justification; and a corresponding expression of surprise, passed
+in a murmur, through the audience. The eye of Mary Monson kindled with
+triumph; and she continued with renewed powers of command over the will
+and conscience of the witness.
+
+“This is well, Sarah Burton—it is right, and what you ought to say. You
+think that the fire was accidental, and that the fractured skulls came
+from the fall of the plough?”
+
+“I do. I know that the plough stood in the garret, directly over the
+bed, and the stove-pipe passed quite near it. There was an elbow in that
+pipe, and the danger was at that elbow.”
+
+“This is well; and the eye above looks on you with less displeasure,
+Sarah Burton”—as this was said, the witness turned her looks timidly
+upwards, as if to assure herself of the fact—“Speak holy truth, and it
+will soon become benignant and forgiving. Now tell me how you came by
+the stocking and its contents?”
+
+“The stocking!” said the witness, starting, and turning white as a
+sheet. “Who says I took the stocking?”
+
+“I do. I know it by that secret intelligence which has been given me to
+discover truth. Speak, then, Sarah, and tell the court and jury the
+truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
+
+“Nobody saw me take it; and nobody can say I took it.”
+
+“Therein you are mistaken. You _were_ seen to take it. I saw it, for
+one; but there was another who saw it, with its motive, whose eye is
+ever on us. Speak, then, Sarah, and keep nothing back.”
+
+“I meant no harm, if I did take it. There was so many folks about, I was
+afraid that some stranger might lay hands on it. That’s all.”
+
+“You were seen to unlock the drawers, as you stood alone near the
+bureau, in the confusion and excitement of the finding of the skeletons.
+You did it stealthily, Sarah Burton.”
+
+“I was afraid some one might snatch the stocking from me. I always meant
+to give it up, as soon as the law said to whom it belongs. Davis wants
+it, but I’m not sure it is his.”
+
+“What key did you use? Keep nothing back.”
+
+“One of my own. My keys unlocked many of aunt Dolly’s drawers. She knew
+it, and never found any fault with it. Why should she? Her keys unlocked
+_mine_!”
+
+“Another word—where is that stocking, and where are its contents?”
+
+“Both are safe in the third drawer of my own bureau, and here is the
+key,” taking one from her bosom. “I put them there for security, as no
+one opens that drawer but myself.”
+
+Timms took the key from the unresisting hand of the woman, and followed
+by Williams, Davis, and one or two more, he left the court-house. At
+that instant, Sarah Burton fainted. In the confusion of removing her
+into another room, Mary Monson resumed her seat.
+
+“Mr. District Attorney, it can hardly be your intention to press this
+indictment any further?” observed the judge, wiping his eyes, and much
+delighted with the unexpected termination of the affair.
+
+The functionary addressed was glad enough to be rid of his unwelcome
+office, and at once signified his willingness to enter a _nolle
+prosequi_, by an application to the bench, in the case of the arson, and
+to submit to an acquittal in that now being traversed. After a brief
+charge from the judge, the jury gave a verdict of acquittal, without
+leaving the box; and just as this was done, Timms and his companions
+returned, bringing with them the much-talked-of stocking.
+
+It required months completely to elucidate the whole affair; but so much
+is already known, and this part of our subject being virtually disposed
+of, we may as well make a short summary of the facts, as they were
+already in proof, or as they have since come to light.
+
+The fire was accidental, as has been recently ascertained by
+circumstances it is unnecessary to relate. Goodwin had left his wife,
+the night before the accident, and she had taken the German woman to
+sleep with her. As the garret-floor above this pair was consumed, the
+plough fell, its share inflicting the blow which stunned them, if it did
+not inflict even a greater injury. That part of the house was first
+consumed, and the skeletons were found, as has been related, side by
+side. In the confusion of the scene, Sarah Burton had little difficulty
+in opening the drawer, and removing the stocking. She fancied herself
+unseen; but Mary Monson observed the movement, though she had then no
+idea what was abstracted. The unfortunate delinquent maintains that her
+intention, at the time, was good; or, that her sole object was to secure
+the gold; but, is obliged to confess that the possession of the treasure
+gradually excited her cupidity, until she began to hope that this hoard
+might eventually become her own. The guilty soonest suspect guilt. As to
+“the pure, all things are pure,” so it is with the innocent, who are the
+least inclined to suspect others of wicked actions. Thus was it with
+Mrs. Burton. In the commission of a great wrong herself, she had little
+difficulty in supposing that Mary Monson was the sort of person that
+rumour made her out to be. She saw no great harm, then, in giving a
+shove to the descending culprit. When looking into the stocking, she had
+seen, and put in her own pocket, the notched piece, as a curiosity,
+there being nothing more unusual in the guilty thus incurring
+unnecessary risks, than there is in the moth’s temerity in fluttering
+around the candle. When the purse of Mary Monson was examined, as
+usually happens on such occasions, we had almost said as _always_
+happens, in the management of cases that are subsequently to form a part
+of the justice of the land, much less attention was paid to the care of
+that purse than ought to have been bestowed on it. Profiting by the
+neglect, Sarah Burton exchanged the notched coin for the perfect piece,
+unobserved, as she again fancied; but once more the watchful eye of Mary
+Monson was on her. The first time the woman was observed by the last, it
+was accidentally; but suspicion once aroused, it was natural enough to
+keep a look-out on the suspected party. The act was seen, and at the
+moment that the accused thought happy, the circumstance was brought to
+bear on the trial. Sarah Burton maintains that, at first, her sole
+intention was to exchange the imperfect for the perfect coin; and that
+she was induced to swear to the piece subsequently produced, as that
+found on Mary Monson’s person, as a literal fact, ignorant of what might
+be its consequences. Though the devil doubtless leads us on, step by
+step, deeper and deeper, into crime and sin, it is probable that, in
+this particular, the guilty woman applied a flattering unction to her
+conscience, that the truth would have destroyed.
+
+Great was the wonder, and numberless were the paragraphs that this
+unexpected issue of the “great Biberry murders” produced. As respects
+the last, anything that will fill a column is a god-send, and the
+falsehood has even a value that is not to be found in the truth, as its
+contradiction will help along quite as much as the original statements.
+If the public could only be brought to see what a different thing
+publicity becomes in the hands of those who turn it to _profit_, from
+what it is thought to be, by those who fancy it is merely a mode of
+circulating facts, a great step towards a much-needed reformation would
+be taken, by confining the last within their natural limits.
+
+Mary Monson’s name passed from one end of the Union to the other, and
+thousands heard and read of this extraordinary woman, who never had the
+smallest clue to her real character or subsequent history. How few
+reflected on the defects of the system that condemned her to the gallows
+on insufficient testimony; or, under another phase of prejudice, might
+have acquitted her when guilty! The random decisions of the juries,
+usually well-meaning, but so rarely discriminating, or as intelligent as
+they ought to be, attract very little attention beyond the bar; and even
+the members of that often strike a balance in error, with which they
+learn to be content; gaining in one cause as much as they lose in
+another.
+
+There was a strong disposition in the people assembled at Biberry, on
+the occasion of the trial, to make a public spectacle of Mary Monson.
+The right to do this, with all things in heaven and earth, seems to
+belong to “republican simplicity,” which is beginning to rule the land
+with a rod of iron. Unfortunately for this feeling, the subject of
+momentary sympathy was not a person likely to allow such a license. She
+did not believe, because she had endured one set of atrocious wrongs,
+that she was bound to submit to as many more as gaping vulgarity might
+see fit to inflict. She sought the protection of good Mrs. Gott and her
+gaol, some forms being necessary before the sentence of death could be
+legally gotten rid of. In vain were the windows again crowded, with the
+virtuous wish of seeing how Mary Monson _looked_, now she was acquitted,
+just as they had been previously thronged in order to ascertain how she
+looked when there was a chance of her being condemned to the gallows.
+The most extraordinary part of the affair, was the circumstance that the
+harp became popular; the very sentiment, act, or thing that, in one
+condition of the common mind, is about to be ‘cut down and cast into the
+fire,’ becoming in another, all that is noble, commendable, or
+desirable. The crowd about the windows of the gaol, for the first few
+hours after the acquittal, was dying to hear the prisoner sing and play,
+and would gladly have tolerated the harp and a ‘foreign tongue’ to be
+thus gratified.
+
+But Mary Monson was safe from all intrusion, under the locks of the
+delighted Mrs. Gott. This kind-hearted person kissed her prisoner, over
+and over again, when she admitted her within the gallery, and then she
+went outside, and assured several of the more respectable persons in the
+crowd how thoroughly she had been persuaded, from the first, of the
+innocence of her friend. The circumstances of this important trial
+rendered Mrs. Gott a very distinguished person herself, in that crowd,
+and never was a woman happier than she while delivering her sentiments
+on the recent events.
+
+“It’s altogether the most foolish trial we have ever had in Duke’s,
+though they tell me foolish trials are getting to be only too common,”
+said the kind-hearted wife of the sheriff, addressing half-a-dozen of
+the more respectable of the crowd. “It gave me a big fright, I will own.
+When Gott was elected sheriff, I did hope he would escape all executions
+but debt executions. The more he has of _them_, the better. It’s bad
+enough to escort thieves to Sing-Sing; but the gallows is a poor trade
+for a decent man to meddle with. Then, to have the very first sentence,
+one against Mary Monson, who is as much above such a punishment as
+virtue is above vice. When I heard those dreadful words, I felt as if a
+cord was round my own neck. But I had faith to the last; Mary has always
+told me that she should be acquitted, and here it has all come true, at
+last.”
+
+“Do you know, Mrs. Gott,” said one of her friends, “it is reported that
+this woman—or lady, I suppose one must _now_ call her—has been in the
+habit of quitting the gaol whenever she saw fit.”
+
+“Hu-s-h, neighbor Brookes; there is no need of alarming the county! I
+believe you are right; though it was all done without my knowledge, or
+it never would have been permitted. It only shows the power of money.
+The locks are as good as any in the State; yet Mary certainly did find
+means, unbeknown to me, to open them. It can’t be called breaking gaol,
+since she always came back! I had a good fright the first time I heard
+of it, but use reconciles us to all things. I never let Gott into the
+secret, though he’s responsible, as he calls it, for all his prisoners.”
+
+“Well, when a matter turns out happily, it does no good to be harping on
+it always.”
+
+Mrs. Gott assented, and in this case, as in a hundred others, the end
+was made to justify the means. But Mary Monson was felt to be an
+exception to all rules, and there was no longer any disposition to cavil
+at any of her proceedings. Her innocence had been established so very
+triumphantly, that every person regarded her vagaries and strange
+conduct with indulgence.
+
+At that very moment, when Mrs. Gott was haranguing her neighbours at the
+door of the gaol, Dunscomb was closeted with Michael Millington at the
+Inn; the young man having returned at hot-speed only as the court
+adjourned. He had been successful, notwithstanding his original
+disappointment, and had ascertained all about the hitherto mysterious
+prisoner of the Biberry gaol. Mary Monson was, as Dunscomb suspected,
+Mildred Millington by birth—Mad. de Larocheforte by marriage—and she was
+the grand-daughter of the very woman to whom he had been betrothed in
+youth. Her insanity was not distinctly recognised, perhaps could not
+have been legally established, though it was strongly suspected by many
+who knew her intimately, and was a source of great uneasiness with all
+who felt an interest in her welfare. Her marriage was unhappy, and it
+was supposed she had taken up her abode in the cottage of the Goodwins
+to avoid her husband. The command of money gave her a power to do very
+much as she pleased, and, though the breath of calumny had never yet
+blown its withering blast on her name, she erred in many things that are
+duties as grave as that of being chaste. The laws came in aid of her
+whims and caprices. There is no mode by which an errant wife can be made
+to perform her duties in boldly experimenting New York, though she can
+claim a support and protection from her husband. The ‘cup and saucer’
+law comes in aid of this power, and the men who cannot keep their wives
+in the chains of Hymen in virtue of the affections, may just as well
+submit, with a grace, to be the victims of an ill-judging and most
+treacherous regard for the rights of what are called the weaker sex.
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+ “Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,
+ Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?”
+ _Cato._
+
+
+The scene must now be shifted to Rattletrap. Biberry was deserted. Even
+the rumours with which its streets had been so lately filled, were
+already forgotten. None have memories as frail as the gossip. Not only
+does this class of persons—and a numerous class it is, including nearly
+all whose minds are not fitted to receive more elevated materials—not
+only, we say, does this class of persons overlook the contradictions and
+absurdities of the stories they repeat, but they forget the stories
+themselves almost as soon as heard. Such was now the case at Biberry.
+Scarce an individual could be found in the place who would acknowledge
+that he or she had ever heard that Mary Monson was connected with
+robbers, or who could recollect that he once fancied the accused guilty.
+
+We may as well say here, that nothing has ever been done with Sarah
+Burton. She is clearly guilty; but the law, in these times of progress,
+disdains to pursue the guilty. Their crimes are known; and of what use
+can it be to expose those whom every one can see are offenders! No; it
+is the innocent who have most reason to dread the law. _They_ can be put
+to trouble, cost, vexation and loss, if they cannot be exactly
+condemned. We see how thousands regard the law in a recent movement in
+the legislature, by which suits have been ordered to try the titles of
+most of the large landed proprietors, with the very honest and modest
+proposal annexed, that their cases shall be prejudged, and the landlords
+deprived of the means of defending themselves, by sequestering their
+rents! Everybody says this is the freest country on earth; the only
+country that is truly free; but we must be permitted to say, that such a
+law, like twenty more that have been passed in the same interest within
+the last ten years, savours a good deal of the character of a Ukase.
+
+Our characters, with the exception of McBrain and his bride, were now
+assembled at Rattletrap. Dunscomb had ascertained all it was necessary
+to know concerning Mildred, and had taken the steps necessary to protect
+her. Of her qualified insanity he did not entertain a doubt; though it
+was a madness so concealed by the blandishments of education and the
+graces of a refined woman, that few saw it, and fewer still wished to
+believe it true. On most subjects this unhappy lady was clear-minded and
+intelligent enough, more especially on that of money; for, while her
+expenditures were generous, and her largesses most liberal, she
+manifested wonderful sagacity in taking care of her property. It was
+this circumstance that rendered it so difficult to take any steps to
+deprive her of its control; though Dunscomb had seen enough, in the
+course of the recent trial, to satisfy him that such a measure ought to
+be resorted to in the interest of her own character.
+
+It was in cunning, and in all the low propensities connected with that
+miserable quality, that Mildred Millington, as she now insisted on
+calling herself, most betrayed her infirmity. Many instances of it have
+been incidentally related in the course of our narrative, however
+unpleasant such an exhibition has been. There is nothing more repugnant
+to the principles or tastes of the right thinking and right feeling,
+than the practices which cunning engenders. Timms, however, was a most
+willing agent in all the schemes of his client; though some of her
+projects had puzzled him by their elaborate duplicity, as much as they
+had astounded him by their boldness. These were the schemes that had
+their origin in obliquity of mind. Still, they were not without merit in
+the eyes of Timms, who was cunning without being mad.
+
+Before quitting Biberry, Timms was liberally paid and dismissed.
+Dunscomb explained to him the situation of his handsome client, without
+adverting to the state of her mind; when the attorney at once caught at
+the chances of a divorce. Among the other “ways of the hour,” that of
+dissolving the marriage tie has got to be a sort of fashionable mania.
+Neither time, nor duties, nor children, seem to interpose any material
+obstacle; and, if our own laws do not afford the required facilities,
+those of some of our more liberal neighbours do. Timms keeps this
+principle in his mind, and is at this moment ruminating on the means by
+which he can liberate his late client from her present chains, and bind
+her anew in some of his own forging. It is scarcely necessary to add,
+that Mildred troubles herself very little in the premises, so far as
+this covert lover is concerned.
+
+The ridicule of Williams was, at first, the sorest portion of Timms’s
+disappointment. Bachelors alike, and rivals for popular favour, these
+two worthies had long been looking out for advantageous marriages. Each
+had the sagacity to see that his chances of making a more and more
+eligible connexion were increasing slowly, and that it was a great thing
+for a rising man to ascend without dragging after him a wife chosen from
+among those that prop the base of the great social ladder. It was nuts
+to one of these competitors for the smiles of the ladies to discover
+that his rival was in love with a married woman; and this so much the
+more, because the prospects of Timms’s success, arising from his seeming
+intimacy with the fair occupant of the gaol, had given Williams a very
+serious fright. Place two men in competition, no matter in what, and all
+their energies become concentrated in rivalry. Again and again, had
+these two individuals betrayed their mutual jealousy; and now that one
+of them had placed himself in a position so false, not to say
+ridiculous, the other did not fail to enjoy his disappointment to the
+top of his bent. It was in this manner that Saucy Williams took his
+revenge for the defeat in the trial.
+
+Mrs. Gott was also at Rattletrap. Dunscomb retained much of his original
+tenderness for Mildred, the grandmother of his guest of that name, and
+he granted her descendant every indulgence she could ask. Among other
+things, one of the requests of the liberated prisoner was to be
+permitted to manifest this sense of her gratitude for the many acts of
+kindness received from the wife of the sheriff. Gott, accordingly, was
+left to take care of himself, while his nice little companion was
+transported to a scene that she found altogether novel, or a temporary
+residence in a gentleman’s dwelling. Sarah’s housekeeping, Sarah’s good
+nature, attentions, neatness, attire and attractions, would have been
+themes to monopolize all of the good little woman’s admiration, had not
+Anna Updyke, then on a visit at Rattletrap, quite fairly come in for her
+full share. She might almost be said to be in love with both.
+
+It was just after breakfast that Mildred locked an arm in that of Anna,
+and led her young friend by one of the wooded paths that runs along the
+shores of the Hudson, terminating in a summer-house, with a most
+glorious view. In this, there was nothing remarkable; the eye rarely
+resting on any of the ‘bits’ that adorn the banks of that noble stream,
+without taking in beauties to enchant it. But to all these our two
+lovely young women were momentarily as insensible as they were to the
+fact that their own charming forms, floating among shrubbery as fragrant
+as themselves, added in no slight degree to the beauty of the scene. In
+manner, Mildred was earnest, if not ardent, and a little excited; on the
+other hand, Anna was placid, though sensitive; changing colour without
+ceasing, as her thoughts were drawn nearer and nearer to that theme
+which now included the great object of her existence.
+
+“Your uncle brought me letters from town last evening, Anna dear,”
+commenced the liberated lady: “one of them is from Mons. de
+Larocheforte. Is that not strange?”
+
+“What is there so strange in a husband’s writing to his wife? To me, it
+seems the most natural thing in the world.”
+
+“It does?—I am surprised to hear you say so—you, Anna, whom I regarded
+as so truly my friend. I have discarded Mons. de Larocheforte, and he
+ought to respect my pleasure.”
+
+“It would have been better, my dear mamma, had you discarded him before
+marriage, instead of after.”
+
+“Ah—your dear mamma, indeed! I was your school mamma, Anna, and well had
+it been for me had I been left to finish my education in my own country.
+Then, I should have escaped this most unfortunate marriage! Do not
+marry, Anna—take my advice, and never marry. Matrimony is unsuited to
+ladies.”
+
+“How long have you been of this opinion, dear mamma?” asked the young
+girl, smiling.
+
+“Just as long as I have been made to feel how it crushes a woman’s
+independence, and how completely it gives her a master, and how very,
+very humiliating and depressing is the bondage it inflicts. Do you not
+feel the force of my reasons?”
+
+“I confess I do not,” answered Anna, in a subdued, yet clear and
+distinct voice. “I see nothing humiliating or depressing in a woman’s
+submission to her husband. It is the law of nature, and why should we
+wish to alter it? My mother has ever inculcated such opinions, and you
+will excuse me if I say I think the bible does, also.”
+
+“The bible!—Yes, that is a good book, though I am afraid it is very
+little read in France. I ought, perhaps, to say, ‘read very little by
+strangers resident in France.’ The French women, themselves, are not one
+half as negligent of their duties, in this respect, as are the strangers
+who go to reside among them. When the roots, that have grown to any size
+in their native soil, are violently transplanted to another, it is not
+often that the tree obtains its proper dimensions and grace. I wish I
+had never seen France, Anna, in which case I should never have been Mad.
+de Larocheforte—_vicomtesse_, by the old law, and I am afraid it was
+that idle appellation that entrapped me. How much more truly respectable
+I should have been as Mrs. John Smith, or Mrs. John Brown, or Mrs. David
+Smith, the wife of a countryman, if I must be a wife, at all!”
+
+“Choose at least some name of higher pretension,” said Anna, laughing.
+“Why not a Mrs. Van Rensselaer, or a Mrs. Van Cortlandt, or a Mrs.
+Livingston, or a Mrs. Somebody else, of one of our good old families?”
+
+“Families!—Do you know, child, it is treason to talk of families in this
+age of anti-rentism. They tell me that the man who makes an estate, may
+enjoy it, should he happen to know how, and this, though he may have
+cheated all he ever dealt with, in order to become rich; but, that he
+who inherits an estate, has no claim. It is his tenants who have the
+high moral claim to his father’s property.”
+
+“I know nothing of all this, and would rather talk of things I
+understand.”
+
+“By which you mean wedlock, and its cares! No, my dear, you little
+understand what matrimony is, or how much humiliation is required of us
+women to become wives, or you would never think of marrying.”
+
+“I have never told you that I _do_ think of marrying—that is, not much.”
+
+“There spoke your honest nature, which will not permit even an
+unintended deception. This it was that so much attached me to you as a
+child; for, though I am not very ingenuous myself, I can admire the
+quality in another.”
+
+“This admission does not exactly prove the truth of your words, mamma!”
+said Anna, smiling.
+
+“No matter—let us talk of matrimony. Has John Wilmeter proposed to you,
+Anna?”
+
+This was a home question; no wonder the young lady started. After a
+short, musing pause, however, the native candour of Anna Updyke
+prevailed, and she admitted that he had.
+
+“Thank you for this confidence; but you must go further. Remember, I am
+your mamma. Is the gentleman accepted?”
+
+A rosy blush, succeeded by a nod of the head, was the answer.
+
+“I am sorry I was not consulted, before all this happened; though I have
+managed my own matters so ill, as to have very few claims to your
+confidence. You scarce know what you undertake, my child.”
+
+“I undertake to become Jack Wilmeter’s wife,” answered the betrothed, in
+a very low but a very firm voice; “and I hope I shall make him a good
+one. Most of all, do I pray to be obedient and submissive.”
+
+“To no man that breathes, Anna!—no, to no man breathing! It is _their_
+business to submit to _us_; not we to them!”
+
+“This is not my reading of the great rule of woman’s conduct. In my view
+of our duties, it is the part of woman to be affectionate, mild, patient
+and sympathizing,—if necessary, forgiving. I firmly believe that, in the
+end, such a woman cannot fail to be as happy as is permitted to us to
+be, here on earth.”
+
+“Forgiving!” repeated Mildred, her eyes flashing; “yes, that is a word
+often used, yet how few truly practise its teachings. Why should I
+forgive any one that has wronged me? Our nature tells us to resent, to
+punish, if necessary, as you say—to revenge.”
+
+A slight shudder passed through the frame of Anna, and she unconsciously
+moved farther from her companion, though their aims still continued
+locked.
+
+“There must be a great difference between France and America, if revenge
+is ever taught to a woman, as a part of her duty,” returned the younger
+female, now speaking with an earnestness she had not before betrayed;
+“here, we are told that Christianity forbids the very thought of it, and
+that to forgive is among the very first of our duties. My great
+instructor in such things, has told me that one of the surest evidences
+of a hopeful state of the feelings, is the banishment of every thing
+like resentment, and a desire to be at peace with all around us—to have
+a perception that we love the race as beings of our own wants and
+hopes.”
+
+“Is this the sort of love, then, with which you give your hand to young
+Wilmeter?”
+
+Scarlet is not brighter than was the colour that now glowed in the
+cheeks of Anna, stole into her temples, and even diffused itself over
+her neck and chest. To herself it seemed as if her very hands blushed.
+Then the power of innocence came to sustain her, and she became calm and
+steady.
+
+“It is _not_ the feeling with which I shall marry John,” she said.
+“Nature has given us another sentiment, and I shall not endeavour to be
+superior to all of my sex and class. I love John Wilmeter, I own; and I
+hope to make him happy.”
+
+“To be a dutiful, obedient wife, for ever studying his tastes and
+caprices!”
+
+“I trust I shall not be _for ever_ studying the indulgence of my own. I
+see nothing degrading to a woman, in her filling the place nature and
+Christianity have assigned to her, and in her doing her duty, as a
+wife.”
+
+“These are not _my_ feelings, receiving your terms as you wish them to
+be understood. But several have told me I ought never to have married; I
+myself know that I should have been an American, and not a French wife.”
+
+“I have ever heard that greater latitude is given to our sex, in France,
+than in this country.”
+
+“That is true in part only. Nothing can exceed the =retenue= of a French
+girl, or anything that is decent exceed the want of it that is
+manifested by many Americans. On the other hand, a married woman here,
+has no privileges at all, not even in society; while in France, under an
+air of great seeming propriety, she does very much as she sees fit. It
+is a mistake, however, to suppose that faithful wives, and devoted
+mothers, most especially the last, are not to be found all over
+Europe—in France, in particular.”
+
+“I am glad to hear it,” cried Anna, with a really gratified air; “it
+gives me pleasure when I hear of any of our sex behaving as they should
+behave.”
+
+“Should behave! I fear, Anna, a little covert reproach is intended, in
+that remark. Our estimate of the conduct of our friends must depend on
+our notions of our own duties. Now, hearken to my manner of reasoning on
+this subject. In a physical sense, man is strong, woman is weak; while,
+in a moral sense, woman is strong and man is weak. You admit my
+premises?”
+
+“The first part of them, certainly,” said Anna, laughing, “while I
+pretend to no knowledge of the last.”
+
+“You surely do not believe that John Wilmeter is as pure, ingenuous,
+good, as you are yourself?”
+
+“I see no reason why he should not be. I am far from certain Jack is not
+even better.”
+
+“It is useless to discuss such a subject with you. The principle of
+pride is wanting, without which you can never enter into my feelings.”
+
+“I am glad it is so. I fancy John will be all the happier for it. Ah! my
+dear mamma, I never knew any good come of what you call this ‘principle
+of pride.’ We are told to be humble and not to be proud. It may be all
+the better for us females that rulers are given to us here, in the
+persons of our husbands.”
+
+“Anna Updyke, do you marry John Wilmeter with the feeling that he is to
+rule? You overlook the signs of the times, the ways of the hour, child,
+if you do aught so weak! Look around you, and see how everybody, almost
+everything, is becoming independent, our sex included. Formerly, as I
+have heard elderly persons say, if a woman suffered in her domestic
+relations, she was compelled to suffer all. The quarrel lasted for a
+life. Now, no one thinks of being so unreasonably wretched. No, the
+wronged wife, or even the offended wife—Monsieur de Larocheforte snuffs
+abominably—abominably—yes, abominably—but no wife is obliged, in these
+times of independence and reason, to endure a snuffy husband——”
+
+“No,” broke in Dunscomb, appearing from an adjoining path, “she has only
+to pack up her spoons and be off. The Code can never catch her. If it
+could on one page, my life for it there is a hole for her to get out of
+its grasp on the next. Your servant, ladies; I have been obliged to
+overhear more of your conversation than was intended for my ears,
+perhaps; these paths running so close to each other, and you being so
+animated—and now, I mean to take an old man’s privilege, and speak my
+mind. In the first place, I shall deal with the agreeable. Anna, my
+love, Jack is a lucky fellow—far luckier than he deserves to be. You
+carry the right sentiment into wedlock. It is the right of the husband
+to be the head of his family; and the wife who resists his authority is
+neither prudent nor a Christian. He may abuse it, it is true; but, even
+then, so long as criminality is escaped, it were better to submit. I
+approve of every word you have uttered, dear, and thank you for it all
+in my nephew’s name. And now, Mildred, as one who has a right to advise
+you, by his avowed love for your grandmother, and recent close
+connection with yourself, let me tell you what I think of those
+principles that you avow, and also of the state of things that is so
+fast growing up in this country. In the first place, he is no true
+friend of your sex who teaches it this doctrine of independence. I
+should think—it is true, I am only a bachelor, and have no experience to
+back me—but, I should think that a woman who truly loves her husband,
+would find a delight in her dependence——”
+
+“Oh! certainly!” exclaimed Anna—biting her tongue at the next instant,
+and blushing scarlet at her own temerity.
+
+“I understand you, child, and approve again—but there comes Jack, and I
+shall have to turn you over to him, that you may receive a good scolding
+from head-quarters, for this abject servitude feeling, that you have
+betrayed. Go—go—his arm is held out already—and harkee, young folk,
+remember that a new maxim in morals has come in with the
+Code—‘Principles depend on Circumstances.’ That is the rule of conduct
+now-a-days—that, and anti-rentism, and ‘republican simplicity,’ and the
+‘cup-and-saucer law,’ and—and—yes—and the ever-blessed Code!”
+
+Dunscomb was obliged to stop for breath, which gave the young couple an
+opportunity to walk away. As for Mildred, she stood collected, extremely
+lady-like in mien, but with a slight degree of hauteur expressed in her
+countenance.
+
+“And now, sir, that we are alone,” she said, “permit me to inquire what
+_my_ part of the lecture is to be. I trust you will remember, however,
+that, while I am Mildred Millington by birth, the law which you so much
+reverence and admire, makes me Madame de Larocheforte.”
+
+“You mean to say that I have the honour of conversing with a married
+woman?”
+
+“Exactly so, Mr. Dunscomb.”
+
+“I comprehend you, ma’am, and shall respect your position. You are not
+about to become my niece, and I can claim no right to exceed the bounds
+of friendship——”
+
+“Nay, my dear sir, I do not wish to say this. You have every right to
+advise. To me, you have been a steady and well judging friend, and this,
+in the most trying circumstances. I am ready to hear you, sir, in
+deference, if not in your beloved humility.”
+
+“That which I have to say refers solely to your own happiness, Mildred.
+Your return to America has, I fear, been most inopportune. Among other
+innovations that are making on every side of us, even to the verge of
+the dissolution of civilized society, comes the liberty of woman. Need I
+tell you, what will be the next step in this downward career?”
+
+“You needs must, Mr. Dunscomb—I do not comprehend you.—What will that
+step be?”
+
+“Her licentiousness. No woman can throw off the most sacred of all her
+earthly duties, in this reckless manner, and hope to escape from the
+doom of her sex. After making a proper allowance for the increase of
+population, the increase in separated married people is getting to be
+out of all proportion. Scarce a month passes that one does not hear of
+some wife who has left her husband, secreted herself with a child
+perhaps, as you did, in some farm-house, passing by a different name,
+and struggling for her rights, as she imagines. Trust me, Mildred, all
+this is as much opposed to nature as it is to prescribed duties. That
+young woman spoke merely what an inward impulse, that is incorporated
+with her very being, prompted her to utter. A most excellent mother—oh!
+what a blessing is that to one of your sex—how necessary, how heavenly,
+how holy!—an excellent mother has left her in ignorance of no one duty,
+and her character has been formed in what I shall term harmony with her
+sex. I must be plain, Mildred—you have not enjoyed this advantage.
+Deprived of your parent young, known to be rich, and transplanted to
+another soil, your education has necessarily been entrusted to
+hirelings, flatterers, or persons indifferent to your real well-being;
+those who have consulted most the reputation of their instruction, and
+have paid the most attention to those arts which soonest strike the eye,
+and most readily attract admiration. In this, their success has been
+complete.”
+
+“While you think it has not been so much so, sir, in more material
+things?” said the lady, haughtily.
+
+“Let me be sincere. It is due to my relation to you—to your
+grandmother—to the past—to the present time. I know the blood that runs
+in your veins, Mildred. You are self-willed by descent, rich by
+inheritance, independent by the folly of our legislators. Accident has
+brought you home, at the very moment when our ill-considered laws are
+unhinging society in many of its most sacred interests; and, consulting
+only an innate propensity, you have ventured to separate from your
+husband, to conceal yourself in a cottage, a measure, I dare say, that
+comported well with your love of the romantic——”
+
+“Not so—I was oppressed, annoyed, unhappy at home, and sought refuge in
+that cottage. Mons. de Larocheforte has such a passion for snuff!—He
+uses it night and day.”
+
+“Then followed the serious consequences which involved you in so many
+fearful dangers——”
+
+“True,” interrupted the lady, laying her small, gloved hand hastily on
+his arm—“very true, dear Mr. Dunscomb; but how cleverly I contrived to
+escape them all!—how well I managed your Mr. Timms, good Mrs. Gott, the
+puffy, pompous sheriff, that wily Williams too, whose palm felt the
+influence of my gold—oh! the excitement of the last two months has been
+a gift of paradise to me, and, for the first time since my marriage,
+have I known what true happiness was!”
+
+Dunscomb turned, astonished, to his companion, and stared her in the
+face. Never was the countenance more lovely to the cursory glance, the
+eye brighter, the cheek with a richer glow on it, or the whole air, mien
+and attitude more replete with womanly loveliness, and womanly graces;
+but the observant eye of the lawyer penetrated beyond all these, and
+detected the unhappy spirit which had gained possession of a tenement so
+lovely. The expression of the countenance denoted the very triumph of
+cunning. We pretend not to a knowledge of the arcana of nature, to be
+able to detect the manner in which the moving principles prompt to good
+or evil, but we must reject all sacred history, and no small portion of
+profane, not to believe that agencies exist that are not visible to our
+ordinary senses; and that our boasted reason, when abandoned to its own
+support, becomes the victim of those that are malign. We care not by
+what names these agents are called, imps, demons, evil spirits, or evil
+passions; but this we do know, let him beware who submits to their
+control. Better, far better, were it that such an one had never been
+born!
+
+Three days later Mildred Millington was in a state that left no doubt of
+her infirmity. The lucid intervals were long, however, and at such times
+her mind seemed clear enough on all subjects but one. Divorce was her
+“ruling passion,” and, in order to effect her purpose, all the
+extraordinary ingenuity of a most fertile mind was put in requisition.
+Although means were promptly, but cautiously, taken to see that she did
+not squander her large pecuniary resources, Dunscomb early saw that they
+were uncalled for. Few persons were better qualified to look after their
+money than was this unfortunate lady, in the midst of the dire
+visitation that intellectually reduced her below the level of most
+around her. On this head her sagacity was of proof; though her hand was
+not closed in the gripe of a miser. Accustomed, from childhood, to a
+liberal expenditure, she was willing still to use the means that an
+inscrutable Providence had so liberally placed in her way, her largesses
+and her charities continuing the same as ever. Down to the present
+moment the fund-holder, the owner of town property, the mortgagee, and
+the trader is allowed to enjoy his own, without any direct interference
+of the demagogue with his rights; but how much longer this exception is
+to last, is known only to the Being who directs the destinies of
+nations; or, at least, not to any who are now on earth, surrounded
+equally by the infirmities and ignorance of the present state.
+
+But Mildred was, and is yet, permitted to exercise her rights over her
+own property, though care is had to see that no undue advantage is taken
+of her sex, years, and ignorance. Beyond this her control was not
+disputed, and she was suffered to manage her own affairs. She set about
+the matter of a divorce with the whole energy of her nature, and the
+cunning of her malady. Timms was again summoned to her service, unknown
+to Dunscomb, who would never have winked at the measures that were
+taken, though so much in accordance with “the ways of the hour.”
+
+Provided with proper credentials, this managing agent sought an
+interview with Mons. de Larocheforte, a worn-out debauchee of some rank,
+who, sooth to say, had faults even graver than that of taking snuff.
+Notwithstanding the great personal attractions of Mildred, the motive
+for marrying her had been money: as is usually the case in a very great
+proportion of the connections of the old world, among persons of
+condition. Love is to succeed, and not to precede, matrimony. Mildred
+had been taught that lesson, and grievously had she been disappointed.
+The snuff got into her eyes. Mons. de Larocheforte—Mons. le Vicomte as
+he had been, and was still determined to be, and in all probability will
+be, in spite of all the French “republican simplicity” that was ever
+summoned to a nation’s rescue—Mons. le Vicomte was directly approached
+by Timms, and a proposal made that he should put himself in a condition
+to be divorced, for a stipulated price. Notwithstanding the opinion of
+the learned Attorney-General of this great state, of the European
+aristocracy, and who is so every way qualified to give such an opinion,
+_ex officio_ as it might be, Mons. de Larocheforte declined lending
+himself to so vile a proposition, Frenchman and noble as he was. Nor did
+the husband believe that the discreditable proposal came from his wife.
+He compelled Timms to admit as much, under a menace of losing his case.
+That worthy was puzzled at this result, for he had made the proposal on
+his “own hook,” as he afterwards explained the matter to Williams, in
+the fullest confidence of “republican simplicity,” and was astonished at
+meeting with the self-respect of a gentleman, if with no very elevated
+principles in a nobleman! It was accordingly necessary to have recourse
+to some other mode of proceeding.
+
+Luckily for the views of Timms and his fair client, one can scarcely go
+amiss in this country, when a divorce is desired. Although a few of the
+older states remain reasonably inflexible on this subject, in some
+respects _unreasonably_ so, indeed, they are generally surrounded by
+communities that are more indulgent. By means of some _hocus pocus_ of
+the law, that we pretend not to explain, the names of Gabriel Jules
+Vincent Jean Baptiste de Larocheforte ads. Mildred de Larocheforte, were
+just beginning to steal on the dawn of the newspapers, in a case that,
+ere long, might blaze in the meridian of gossip.
+
+Dunscomb frowned, and reproached, but it was too late to recede. He has
+told Mildred, and he has told Timms, that nuptial knots tied in one
+community, cannot be so readily unloosed in another, as many imagine;
+and that there must, at least, be good faith—the _animus revertendi_—in
+the change of residence that usually precedes the application. But money
+is very powerful, and smooths a thousand difficulties. No one could
+predict the termination; and, as the vicomte, though only to be
+approached in a more delicate way than that adopted by Timms, was as
+tired of the connection as his wife, and was very anxious to obtain a
+larger share of the fortune than the “cup and saucer” law will give him,
+it was by no means improbable that the end of the affair would be a
+quasi divorce, that would at least enable each party to take his or her
+own course, without fear of molestation from the other.
+
+In the mean time, Millington was married very shortly after the trial.
+The engagement had not been long, but the parties had known each other
+intimately for years. The bridegroom, in one sense, was the head of his
+family, though by no means possessed of its largest fortune. In this
+character, it devolved on him to care for the interests of his fair
+relative. Although as much opposed as Dunscomb to the course she was
+taking, he did not shrink from his duties as a relative; and it is
+understood that his house is Mildred’s home when in town. Rattletrap
+opened its hospitable doors to the unfortunate woman, whenever she chose
+to visit the place; and Timbully has also claims on her time and
+presence.
+
+Dunscomb announced his intention to retire from practice at the end of a
+twelvemonth, the morning that Michael and Sarah were married. In the
+intervening time, John Wilmeter and his new nephew were received as
+partners, and the worthy bachelor is now sedulously but silently
+transferring as respectable and profitable a list of clients, as any man
+in the courts can claim. His own advice is promised, at all times, to
+his old friends; and, as not a soul has objected, and the young men bid
+fair, there is every reason to hope that useful and profitable labour
+will keep both out of mischief.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ CHAPTER XXX.
+
+ “Some curate has penn’d this invective,
+ And you have studied it.”
+ MASSINGER.
+
+
+The day set apart for the nuptials of John Wilmeter and Anna Updyke
+finally arrived. The ceremony was to take place in a little church that
+had stood, time out of mind, in the immediate neighbourhood of Timbully.
+This church was colonial in its origin, and, while so much around it has
+undergone vital changes, there stands that little temple, reared in
+honour of God, in its simplicity, unpretending yet solid and durable
+architecture, resembling, in all these particulars, the faith it was
+erected to sustain. Among the other ways of the hour that are worthy of
+our notice, the church itself has sustained many rude shocks of
+late—shocks from within as well as from without. The Father of Lies has
+been roving through its flocks with renewed malice, damaging the
+shepherds, perhaps, quite as much as the sheep, and doing things
+hitherto unheard of in the brief annals of American Ecclesiastical
+History. Although we deeply regret this state of things, we feel no
+alarm. The hand which first reared this moral fabric will be certain to
+protect it as far as that protection shall be for its good. It has
+already effected a great reform. The trumpet is no longer blown in Zion
+in our own honour; to boast of the effects of a particular discipline;
+to announce the consequences of order, and of the orders; or, in short,
+to proclaim a superiority that belongs only to the Head of all the
+churches, let them be farther from, or nearer to, what are considered
+distinctive principles. What the church is now enduring the country
+itself most sadly wants,—a lesson in humility; a distrust of self, a
+greater dependence on that wisdom which comes, not from the voices of
+the people, not from the ballot-boxes, not from the halls of senates,
+from heroes, godlikes, or stereotyped opinions, but from above, the
+throne of the Most High.
+
+In one of those little temples reared by our fathers in the days of the
+monarchy, when, in truth, greater republican simplicity really reigned
+among us, in a thousand things, than reigns to-day, the bridal party
+from Timbully was assembled at an early hour of the morning. The company
+was not large, though it necessarily included most of the nearest
+relatives of the bride and groom. Dunscomb was there, as were Millington
+and his wife; Dr. and Mrs. McBrain, of course, and two or three other
+relations on the side of the bride’s father, besides Mildred. It was to
+be a private wedding, a thing that is fast getting to be forgotten.
+Extravagance and parade have taken such deep root among us that young
+people scarce consider themselves legally united unless there are six
+bride’s maids, one, in particular, to “pull off the glove;” as many
+attendants of the other sex, and some three or four hundred friends in
+the evening, to bow and curtsy before the young couple, utter a few
+words of nonsense, and go their way to bow and curtsy somewhere else.
+
+There was nothing of this at Timbully, on that wedding-day. Dunscomb and
+his nephew drove over from Rattletrap, early in the morning, even while
+the dew was glittering on the meadows, and Millington and his wife met
+them at a cross-road, less than a mile from McBrain’s country-house. The
+place of rendezvous was at the church itself, and thither the several
+vehicles directed their way. Dunscomb was just in time to hand Mildred
+from her very complete travelling-carriage, of which the horses were in
+a foam, having been driven hard all the way from town. Last of all,
+appeared Stephen Hoof, driving the very respectable looking Rockaway of
+Mrs. McBrain—we were on the point of writing his “master,” but there are
+no longer any ‘masters’ in New York. Stephen, himself, who had not a
+spark of pride, except in his horses, and who was really much attached
+to the person he served, always spoke of the doctor as his “boss.” Jack
+Wilmeter, somewhat of a wag, had perplexed the honest coachman, on a
+certain occasion, by telling him that “boss” was the Latin for “ox,” and
+that it was beneath his dignity to be using Pill and Pole-us (Bolus) to
+drag about “oxen.” But Stephen recovered from this shock in due time,
+and has gone on ever since, calling his master “boss.” We suppose this
+touch of “republican simplicity” will maintain its ground along with the
+other sacred principles that certain persons hold on to so tightly that
+they suffer others, of real importance, to slip through their fingers.
+
+Stephen was proud of his office that day. He liked his new
+mistress—there are no bossesses—and he particularly liked Miss Anna. His
+horses were used a good deal more than formerly, it is true; but this he
+rather liked too, having lived under the _régimes_ of the two first Mrs.
+McBrain. He was doubly satisfied because his team came in fresh, without
+having a hair turned, while that of _Madam_, as all the domestics now
+called Mildred, were white with foam. Stephen took no account of the
+difference in the distance, as he conceived that a careful coachman
+would have had his “boss” up early enough to get over the ground in due
+season, without all this haste. Little did he understand the bossess
+that his brother-whip had to humour. She paid high, and had things her
+own way.
+
+Anna thought Stephen had never driven so fast as he did that morning.
+The doctor handed her from the carriage, leading her and his wife
+directly up to the altar. Here the party was met by John and his uncle,
+the latter of whom facetiously styled himself the “groomsman.” It is a
+ceremony much more easily done than undone—great as the facilities for
+the last are getting to be. In about five minutes, John Wilmeter and
+Anna Updyke were pronounced to be “one flesh.” In five minutes more,
+Jack had his sweet, smiling, happy, tearful bride, in his own light
+vehicle, and was trotting away towards a pretty little place in
+Westchester, that he owns, and which was all ready to receive the young
+couple. The ponies seemed to understand their duty, and soon carried the
+bride and bridegroom out of sight.
+
+“Them’s awful trotters, them nags of Mr. Jack Wilmington’s,” said
+Stephen, as the double phaeton whirled away from the church door, “and
+if Miss Anny doesn’t disapprove on ’em, afore long, I’m no judge of a
+team. I’m glad, however, the young gentleman has married into our
+family, for he does like a hoss, and the gentleman that likes a hoss
+commonly likes his vife.”
+
+His remark was overheard by Dunscomb, though intended only for the ears
+of the counsellor’s coachman. It drew an answer, as might have been
+foreseen.
+
+“I am glad you approve of the connexion, Stephen,” said the counsellor
+in his good-natured way. “It is a great satisfaction to know that my
+nephew goes among friends.”
+
+“Fri’nds, Sir! Admirers is a better tarm. I’m a downright admirer of Mr.
+Jack, he’s sich tastes; always with his dog, or his gun, or his hoss, in
+the country; and I dares to say, with his books in town.”
+
+“Not just all that, Stephen; I wish it were so; but truth compels me to
+own that the young rogue thinks quite as much of balls, and suppers, and
+tailors, and the opera, as he does of Coke upon Lyttleton, or Blackstone
+and Kent.”
+
+“Vell, that’s wrong,” answered Stephen, “and I’ll uphold no man in vot’s
+wrong, so long as I can do better. I know’d both them racers, having
+heard tell on ’em at the time they vos run, and I’ve beard good judges
+say, that timed the hosses, that Kent come in neck and neck, if justice
+had been done. Mr. Jack will rectify, and come to see the truth afore
+long—mattermony will do that much for him. It’s a great help to the
+seekers arter truth, is mattermony, sir!”
+
+“That is the reason you have so much of it at Timbully, I suppose,”
+returned Dunscomb, nodding familiarly towards his friend the Doctor, who
+had heard all that was said. “If matrimony rectifies in this way, you
+must be three times right at home, Stephen.”
+
+“Yes, sir,” answered the coachman, nodding his head in reply; “and when
+a body does better and better, as often as he tries, there’s no great
+harm in trying. Mr. Jack vill come round, in time.”
+
+“I dare say he will, Stephen, when he has sown all his wild oats; though
+the dog pretends to like the Code, and what is more, has the impudence
+to say he understands it.”
+
+“Yes, sir, all wrong, I dares to say. But Miss Anna will set him right,
+as a righter young lady never sat on the back seat of a coach. I wish,
+now we’re on the subject, ’Squire Dunscomb, to hear your ra’al opinion
+about them vild oats; vether they be a true thing, or merely a fancy
+consarning some vegetable that looks like the true feed. I’ve often
+heard of sich things, but never seed any.”
+
+“Nor will you, Stephen, until the doctor turns short round, and renews
+his youth. Then, indeed, you may see some of the grain growing beneath
+your feet. It is doctor’s food.
+
+“Meshy, and good for the grinders of old hosses, I dares to say.
+
+“Something of the sort. It’s the harvest that age reaps from the
+broad-cast of youth. But we are keeping Mrs. McBrain waiting. Stephen
+will take one less back with him, than he brought, my dear lady.”
+
+“I trust not. Mr. McBrain has given me reason to hope for the pleasure
+of your company. Your nephew has carried off my daughter; the least you
+can do is to come and console me.”
+
+“What is then to become of that dear, but unfortunate young lady?”
+glancing towards Mildred.
+
+“She goes with her relatives, the Millingtons. Next week, we are all to
+meet at Rattletrap, you know.”
+
+The next week the meeting took place, as appointed.
+
+“Here I am,” cried Dunscomb, “truly and finally a bachelor, again. Now
+for the reign of misrule, negligence, and bad housekeeping. Sarah has
+left me; and John has left me; and Rattletrap will soon become the
+chosen seat of discomfort and cynicism.”
+
+“Never the last, I should think,” answered Madame de Larocheforte,
+gaily, “as long as you are its master. But why should you dwell alone
+here, in your declining years—why may I not come and be your
+housekeeper.”
+
+“The offer is tempting, coming, as it does, from one who cannot keep
+house for herself. But you think of returning to Europe, I believe?”
+
+“Never—or not so long as my own country is so indulgent to us women!”
+
+“Why, yes—you are right enough in that, Mildred. This is woman’s
+paradise, in a certain sense, truly; though much less attention is paid
+to their weakness and wants, by the affluent, than in other lands. In
+every Christian country but this, I believe, a wife may be compelled to
+do her duty. Here she is free as the air she breathes, so long as she
+has a care not to offend in one essential. No, you are right to remain
+at home, in your circumstances; that is to say, if you still insist on
+your mistaken independence; a condition in which nature never intended
+your sex to exist.”
+
+“And yourself, sir! Did not nature as much intend that you should marry,
+as another?”
+
+“It did,” answered Dunscomb, solemnly; “and I would have discharged the
+obligation, had it been in my power. You well know why I have never been
+a husband—the happy parent of a happy family.”
+
+Mildred’s eyes swam with tears. She had heard the history of her
+grandmother’s caprice, and had justly appreciated the wrongs of
+Dunscomb. This it was not difficult for her to do, in the case of third
+parties, even while so obtuse on the subject of her own duties. She took
+the hand of her companion, by a stealthy and unexpected movement, and
+raised it still more unexpectedly to her lips. Dunscomb started; turned
+his quick glance on her face, where he read all her contrition and
+regrets. It was by these sudden exhibitions of right feeling, and
+correct judgment, that Madame de Larocheforte was able to maintain her
+position. The proofs of insanity were so limited in the range of its
+influence, occurred so rarely, now she was surrounded by those who
+really took an interest in her, and this not for the sake of her money,
+but for her own sake, that her feelings had become softened, and she no
+longer regarded men and women as beings placed near her, to prey on her
+means and to persecute her. By thus giving her affections scope, her
+mind was gradually getting to be easier, and her physical existence
+improved. McBrain was of opinion that, with care, and with due attention
+to avoid excitement and distasteful subjects, her reason might again be
+seated on its throne, and bring all the faculties of her mind in
+subjection to it.
+
+At length the time for the visit of the young people arrived. Anxious to
+see happy faces assembled around him, Dunscomb had got Mildred, the
+McBrains, and the Millingtons, at Rattletrap, to do honour to the bride
+and groom. Good Mrs. Gott had not been overlooked, and by an accident,
+Timms drove in at the gate, just as the whole party, including Jack and
+his blooming wife, were sitting down to a late breakfast. The counsellor
+welcomed his man of all work, for habit renders us less fastidious in
+our associations than most of us imagine.
+
+Timms was very complimentary to both of the young couples, and in a
+slight degree witty, agreeably to his own mode of regarding the
+offspring of that effort of the imagination.
+
+“What do you think of Williams’s getting married, ’Squire Dunscomb?” the
+attorney asked. “There’s a man for matrimony! He regards women and
+niggers as inferior beings.”
+
+“Pray how do _you_ regard them, Timms? The women only, I suppose?”
+
+“Oh! dear, no, ’Squire; as far as possible from that! I reverence the
+ladies, without whom our state in this life would be—”
+
+“Single—I suppose you wish to say. Yes, that is a very sensible remark
+of yours—without women we should certainly all get to be old bachelors,
+in time. But, Timms, it is proper that I should be frank with you.
+Mildred de Larocheforte may manage to get a divorce, by means of some of
+the quirks of the law; but were she to be proclaimed single, by sound of
+trumpet, she would never marry _you_.”
+
+“You are sharp on me this morning, sir; no one but the lady, herself,
+can say _that_.”
+
+“There you are mistaken. I _know_ it, and am ready to give my reasons
+for what I say.”
+
+“I should be pleased to hear them, sir—always respect your reasoning
+powers, though I think no man can say who a lady will or will not
+marry.”
+
+“In the first place, she does not like you. That is one sufficient
+reason, Timms—”
+
+“Her dislike may be overcome, sir.”
+
+“Her tastes are very refined. She dislikes her present husband
+principally because he takes snuff.”
+
+“I should have thought she might have discovered her feelings on that
+subject, before she went so far.”
+
+“Not as they manage matters in Europe. There, the suitor is not
+permitted to kiss his intended, as so often happens among ourselves, I
+fancy; and she had no opportunity of ascertaining how unpleasant snuff
+is. You chew and smoke, and she will endure neither.”
+
+“I’ll forswear both, rather than not be agreeable to dear Mary Monson.”
+
+“Ah! my poor Timms, I see you are deeper in this affair than I had
+supposed. But I shall turn you over to Mrs. Gott, who has promised to
+have an explanation with you, and who, I believe, will speak by
+authority.”
+
+Timms was not a little surprised to see his old master very
+unceremoniously leave him, and the sheriff’s wife occupy his place.
+
+“’Squire Timms,” the latter commenced, without a moment’s hesitation,
+“we live in a very strange world, it must be admitted. Gott says as much
+as this, and Gott is commonly right. He always maintained he never
+should be called on to hang Mary Monson.”
+
+“Mr. Gott is a very prudent man, but he would do well to take more care
+of his keys.”
+
+“I have not been able to find out how that was done! Mary laughs when I
+ask her, and says it was witchcraft; I sometimes think it _must_ have
+been something of the sort.”
+
+“It was money, Mrs. Gott, which kept Goodwin concealed to the last
+moment, and brought about half of all that happened.”
+
+“You knew that Peter Goodwin was alive, and hid up at Mrs. Horton’s?”
+
+“I was as much surprised, when he entered the court, as any one there.
+My client managed it all for herself. She, and her gold.”
+
+“Well, you have the credit of it, Timms, let me tell you, and many in
+the county think it was very well done. I am your friend, and ever have
+been. You stood by Gott like a man, at his election, and I honour you
+for it. So I am about to give you a great proof of my friendship. Give
+up all thoughts of Mary Monson; she’ll never have you.”
+
+“What reasons have you for saying this?”
+
+“In the first place, she is married already.”
+
+“She may get a divorce. Besides, her present husband is not a citizen.
+If I go to the senate, I intend to introduce a bill to prevent any but
+citizens getting married. If foreigners want wives, let them be
+naturalized!”
+
+“You talk like a simpleton! Another reason why you should not think of
+Mary Monson is that you are unsuited to be her husband?”
+
+“In what particular, I beg leave to ask?”
+
+“Oh! in several. You are both too sharp, and would quarrel about your
+wit, in the very first month,” returned Mrs. Gott, laughing. “Take my
+advice, Timms, and cast your eyes on some Duke’s county young woman, who
+has a natur’ more like your own.”
+
+Timms growled out a dissent to this very rational proposition, but the
+discussion was carried on for some time longer. The woman made an
+impression at last, and when the attorney left the house, it was with
+greatly lessened hopes for the future, and with greatly lessened zeal on
+the subject of the divorce.
+
+It was singular, perhaps, that Mrs. Gott had not detected the great
+secret of Mary Monson’s insanity. So many persons are going up and down
+the country, who are mad on particular subjects, and sane on most
+others, that it is not surprising the intelligence and blandishments of
+a woman like Mildred should throw dust into the eyes of one as
+simple-minded as Mrs. Gott. With the world at large, indeed, the
+_equivoque_ was kept up, and while many thought the lady very queer,
+only a few suspected the truth. It may be fortunate for most of us that
+writs of lunacy are not taken out against us: few men, or women, being
+under the control of a good, healthful reason at all times, and on all
+subjects.
+
+In one particular, Mad. de Larochefort was singularly situated. She was
+surrounded, in her ordinary associations, with newly married persons,
+who were each and all strenuously resolved to regard the relation in the
+most favourable point of view! Perhaps there is nothing on earth that so
+nearly resembles the pure happiness of the blessed, as the felicity that
+succeeds the entire union of two hearts that are wrapped up in each
+other. Such persons live principally for themselves, regarding the world
+at large as little more than their abiding place. The affinity of
+feeling, the community of thought, the steadily increasing confidence
+which, in the end, almost incorporates the moral existence of two into
+one, are so many new and precious ties, that it is not wonderful the
+novices believe they are transplanted to a new and ethereal state of
+being. Such was, in a measure, the condition of those with whom Mildred
+was now called on to associate most intimately. It is true, that the
+state of the doctor and his wife might be characterized as only happy,
+while those of the young people amounted to absolute felicity. Mildred
+had experienced none of the last, and very little of the first, on the
+occasion of her own marriage, which had been entered into more as a
+contract of reason, than a union of love. She saw how much she had
+missed, and profound was the grief it occasioned her.
+
+“You seem very happy,” she remarked one day to Anna, as they were again
+threading the pretty little wood at Rattletrap—“more than that—delighted
+would be a better word.”
+
+“Jack is very kind to me, and the only complaint I have to make of him
+is, that he is more fond of me than I deserve. I tell him I tremble lest
+our happiness may not last!”
+
+“Enjoy it while you may. It is so rare to find married persons who are
+so completely devoted to each other, that it is a pleasant sight to look
+upon. I never knew any of this, Anna.”
+
+“I regret to hear it, dear mamma—it must be that you began wrong. There
+should be a strong attachment before the nuptial benediction is
+pronounced; then, with good hearts, and good principles, I should think
+almost any woman might be content with her fate.”
+
+“It may be so,” returned Mildred, with a profound sigh; “I suppose it
+_must_ be so. We are created by God, to fulfil these kind offices to
+each other, and to love our husbands; and there must be something very
+wrong when different results follow. For myself, I ought never to have
+married at all. My spirit is too independent for matrimony.”
+
+Anna was silent; for, possibly, she might have read “headstrong” for
+“independent.” The most truly independent thinkers are those who are
+willing to regard all sides of a subject, and are not particularly
+wedded to one. Mildred was acute enough to see that the beautiful young
+bride did not exactly like the allusion she had made to her new
+character.
+
+“You do not agree with me?” she demanded quickly, bending forward to
+look into her companion’s eyes.
+
+“How can I, mamma Mildred! As I think no one, man or woman, should have
+a spirit that disqualifies her for the duties imposed by nature, which
+is merely the law of our great Creator, how can I agree to your notion
+of so much independence. We are not intended for all this independence,
+but have been placed here to do honour to God, and to try to render each
+other happy. I wish—but I am too bold, for one so young and
+inexperienced.”
+
+“Speak freely, dear. I listen with pleasure—not to say with curiosity.”
+
+“I am afraid, dear mamma, that the great guide of human conduct is not
+as much studied in France, as it should be. That teaches us the great
+lesson of humility. Without humility we are nothing—cannot be
+Christians—cannot love our neighbours as ourselves—cannot even love God,
+as it is our duty, as we ought to do.”
+
+“This is very strange, Anna, coming from one of your age! Is it common
+for American girls to reason and feel in this way?”
+
+“Perhaps not, though I hope more so than is commonly supposed. You will
+remember what a mother it is my good fortune to possess. But, since you
+really wish me to be frank with you, let me finish what I have to say. I
+suppose you know, Mildred, how much more you have to contend with than
+most of your sex?”
+
+“Mons. de Larocheforte, you mean?”
+
+“Not at all,” returned Mrs. John Wilmeter, slightly smiling. “I put all
+thought of contention with a husband out of the question. You know I
+have not been married long enough for that, and I could almost hope that
+the first day of such a scene might be the last of my life! John would
+cease to love me, if I quarrelled with him.”
+
+“You will be an extraordinary pair, my dear, if scenes, as you call
+them, do not occasionally occur between you.”
+
+“I do not expect faultlessness in Jack; and, as for myself, I know that
+I have very many motes to get rid of, and which I trust may, in a
+measure, be done. But let us return to the case of a woman, young,
+well-educated, handsome, rich to superfluity, and intellectual.”
+
+“All of which are very good things, my child,” observed Mad. de
+Larocheforte, with a smile so covert as to be scarcely seen, though it
+betrayed to her companion the consciousness of her making the
+application intended—“what next?”
+
+“Wilful, a lover of power, and what she called independent.”
+
+“Good and bad together. The two first, very bad, I acknowledge; the
+last, very good.”
+
+“What do you understand by independence? If it mean a certain
+disposition to examine and decide for ourselves, under all the
+obligations of duty, then it is a good thing, a _very_ good thing, as
+you say; but if it merely mean a disposition to do as one pleases, to
+say what one likes, and to behave as one may at the moment fancy, then
+it strikes me as a very bad thing. This independence, half the time, is
+only pride and obstinacy, dear mamma!”
+
+“Well, what if it is? Men are proud and obstinate, too; and they must be
+fought with their own weapons.”
+
+“It is easy to make smart speeches, but, by the difficulties I meet with
+in endeavouring to conquer my own heart, I know it is very hard to do
+right. I know I am a very young monitress—”
+
+“Never mind that. Your youth gives piquancy to your instructions. I like
+to hear you.”
+
+“Well, I will finish what I had to say. I have ever found that the best
+assistant, or it might be more reverent to say, the best mode of
+subduing error, was to comport ourselves with humility. Ah! my dear
+mamma, if you could understand how very strong the humble get to be in
+time, you would throw aside your cherished independence, and rely on
+other means to secure your happiness!”
+
+Perhaps Mildred was as much struck with the circumstances under which
+this rebuke or admonition was given as with the advice itself. It had an
+effect, however, and Dunscomb coming in aid of his niece, this singular
+woman was gradually drawn from the exaggerated notions she had ever
+entertained of herself and her rights to the contemplation of her
+duties, as they are exercised in humility.
+
+If there were no other evidence of the divine origin of the rules of
+conduct taught by the Redeemer than the profound knowledge of the human
+heart, that is so closely connected with the great lessons in humility
+everywhere given in his teachings, we conceive it would be sufficient in
+itself to establish their claim to our reverence. If men could be made
+to feel how strong they become in admitting their weaknesses; how
+clearly they perceive truth, when conscious of gazing at its form amidst
+the fogs of error; and how wise we may become by the consciousness of
+ignorance, more than half of the great battle in morals would be gained.
+
+Humility was, indeed, a hard lesson for Mildred Millington to study. Her
+whole life had been in direct opposition to its precepts, and the great
+failing of her mind had a strong leaning to a love of power.
+Nevertheless, there is a still, searching process of correcting, so
+interwoven with the law of the New Testament, as to be irresistible when
+brought to aid us, in the manner prescribed by its own theory. No one
+knew this better than Dunscomb; and he so directed the reading, thoughts
+and feelings of his interesting charge, as to produce an early and a
+very sensible change on her character. The tendency to insanity is still
+there, and probably will ever remain; for it is not so much the
+consequence of any physical derangement as of organization; but it
+already promises to be so far controlled, as to leave its unhappy
+subject, generally rational, and, for most of her time, reasonably
+satisfied.
+
+Dunscomb had several interviews with the vicomte—no-vicomte—whom he
+found a much more agreeable person than he had been prepared to meet,
+though certainly addicted to snuff. He was made acquainted with the
+mental hallucinations of his wife as well as with the fact of their
+being hereditary, when a great change came over the spirit of his dream!
+He had married to perpetuate the family de Larocheforte, but he had no
+fancy for a race of madmen. Dunscomb found him very reasonable, in
+consequence, and an arrangement was soon made, under the advice of this
+able counsellor, by means of which Mildred virtually became her own
+mistress. M. de Larocheforte accepted an ample provision from the
+estate, and willingly returned to Europe, a part of the world that is
+much more agreeable, usually, to men of his class than our own “happy
+country.” His absence has proved a great assistance to those who have
+assumed the care of Mildred’s mental state. As all the schemes for a
+divorce have been discontinued,—schemes that could have led to no
+strictly legal consequence,—and her husband has left the country the
+mind of Mildred has become calmer, and the means have been found to
+bring her almost completely within the control of her reason.
+
+We have very little to say of the other characters. Timms is still
+himself. He boasts of the fees he got in the great Mary Monson
+case. His prospects for the state senate are far from bad, and
+should he succeed, we shall expect to see him whining about
+“republican simplicity,” abusing “aristocracy,” which in his
+secret heart, means a clean shirt, clean nails, anti-tobacco
+chewing and anti-blowing-the-nose-with-the-fingers, and aiding
+anti-rentism. He is scamp enough for anything.
+
+Williams is actually married, and, in reply to Timms’s accounts of the
+fees, he intimates that Peter Goodwin’s ghost would not have appeared,
+had _he_ not “been choked off.” It ought to be strange that these two
+men like to boast of their rascality; but it is in obedience to a law of
+our nature. Their tongues merely echo their thoughts.
+
+The McBrains seem very happy. If the wife be an “old man’s darling,” it
+is not as a young woman. Dunscomb still calls her “widow,” on occasions,
+but nothing can interrupt the harmony of the friends. It is founded on
+mutual esteem and respect.
+
+Michael and Sarah promise well. In that family, there is already a boy,
+to its great-uncle’s delight. The parents exult in this gift, and both
+are grateful.
+
+We care little for Jack Wilmeter, though a very good fellow, in the
+main. Anna loves him, however, and that gives him an interest in our
+eyes, he might not otherwise enjoy. His charming wife is losing her
+superfluous enthusiasm in the realities of life, but she seems to gain
+in womanly tenderness and warmth of healthful feeling, precisely in the
+degree in which she loses the useless tenant of her imagination.
+
+
+ THE END.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+ Transcriber’s Note
+
+There is a paragraph on p. 373 which paraphrases testimony. The first
+segment has no opening double quote, but seems to end with one. An
+opening quote has been added at 373.15. An emphasized quote is embedded
+in that passage, but also uses double quotes.
+
+Beginning on p. 442, there is an extended passage which summarized the
+closing argument and ends at 444.13 with a closing double quote. That
+has been removed here, since there is no clear point where it would have
+been opened.
+
+The text includes three instances of ‘villany’ at 127.14, 393.11 and
+‘villanous’ at 322.27. Thsese have been retained but are noted. No
+instances of ‘villainy’ are found. The words ‘vister’ and ‘visitor’ each
+appear four times. Both are retained.
+
+At 172.16, a line ends ‘use,’. The following line begins ‘less’. It
+seems obvious that the comma was intended as a hyphen, hence: ‘useless’.
+
+There were numerous instances of missing periods, frequently (but not
+alwasy) at the end of a line. These have been summarized here: Mr.
+(i.1); confidently. (15.20); propose it. (22.29); attention. 34.27);
+wear it. (36.29); opinions. (40.7); room. (45.30); not. (52.32);
+investigation. (55.29); heat. (55.33); Mr. Dunscomb (69.7); Mr.
+Dunscomb’s (100.1); sir. (117.29); grate. 126.1); side. (132.30);
+occasion. (176.4); sir. 185.3); itself. (190.4); said. (204.1); comfort.
+(204.25); enough. (207.3); place. (214.27); beginner. (218.1); liberty.
+224.23); him. (226.1); hour. (245.8); Mrs. Gott. (249.5); State.
+(251.8); Mrs. Horton (234.33); oment. (254.1); occasion. (254.33);
+Europe. (255.32); temperament. (258.33); dwelling. 261.32); threshold.
+(267.4); interview. 274.33); reigned. 298.7); Mrs[.[ Horton (304.5);
+light. (307.29); terrible. (338.29); gained. (342.24); nothing.
+(344.33); aristocracy. (354.17); aristocracy. (354.19); conversation.
+(357.27); dream. (363.20); ignorance. 379.33); doing. (382.1); might.
+(383.23); Mrs. Horton’s (390.6); cause. (404.5); _conjecture._ (447.20);
+attempted. (447.28); ignorance. (457.3); force. (461.6); _Peter
+Goodwin_. (462.27); astounded. (463.6); sins. (465.4); asked. (468.4);
+own. (477.29); murdered. (467.1); executions. (477.30); Biberry.
+(480.13); teachings. (486.29); Mildred. (491.6);
+
+Most other errors involved missing or incorrect quotation marks or
+characters. Frequently, the text has space for the missing characters.
+These have been deemed as most likely to be printing errors, and have
+been corrected and are noted below. Spelling anomalies have been
+corrected if there is evidence of standard spelling elsewhere. The
+references are to the page and line in the original.
+
+ 27.10 but to your own.[’/”] Replaced.
+ 45.27 by the time you are ready.[”] Added.
+ 51.32 tried under an [‘]alias!’ Added.
+ 55.27 respectin[g] his profession, Added.
+ 57.16 this display of [l]earning. Restored.
+ 71.3 It was almost superfl[u]ous to ask Inserted.
+ 72.24 showing a half-eagle.[”] Removed.
+ 83.14 All the access[a/o]ries of this plan Replaced.
+ 92.31 and [b/h]ad never lost a cent Replaced.
+ 103.29 [“]If one of these skeletons Added.
+ 106.5 [‘/“]Millington, you have a way of talking Replaced.
+ 187.22 as would stand examination.[”] Added.
+ 219.26 who are friendly to me——[”] Added.
+ 227.22 [“]Which is better Restored.
+ 232.33 as any about here.[’/”] Restored.
+ 240.28 he drew[ a] chair Restored.
+ 248.14 on that harp of her[’]s Removed.
+ 270.17 a case like her[’]s Removed.
+ 271.2 sweep out a crowded calend[e/a]r Replaced.
+ 273.15 as access[a/o]ries before the act. Replaced.
+ 282.1 As for the jurors[,] Restored.
+ 303.3 [“]yes, in the spirit Added.
+ 310.22 and flesh of their flesh.[’]” Added.
+ 320.21 safe sort of person.[”] Added.
+ 323.28 ’Squire Timms.[’/”] Replaced.
+ 335.13 when I met David Johnson—[”] Added.
+ 336.5 is getting scarce——[’]” Added.
+ 351.17 as you must know[,/.] Replaced.
+ 375.31 [‘/“]What I know Replaced.
+ 383.33 he saw a strange f[ro/or]m Transposed.
+ 384.29 [“]Whom do you mean by she?” Added.
+ 443.30 of the sleeping couple below[,] Added.
+ 455.4 dreaded power above.[”] Added.
+ 486.28 “yes, tha[t] Restored.
+ 490.17 ‘cup-and-saucer law,[”/’] Replaced.
+ 491.28 and he[r] character has been formed Restored.
+ 510.33 would be [g]ained Restored.
+ 512.17 “old man[ /’]s darling” Added.
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75036 ***
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+ <body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75036 ***</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c000'>
+</div>
+<div class='tnotes'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+ <div class='nf-center'>
+ <div>Transcriber’s Note:</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c001'>Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
+see the transcriber’s <a href='#endnote'>note</a> at the end of this text
+for details regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered
+during its preparation.</p>
+
+<div class='htmlonly'>
+
+<p class='c001'>Any corrections are indicated using an <ins class='correction' title='original'>underline</ins>
+highlight. Placing the cursor over the correction will produce the
+original text in a small popup.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The original cover had no text. The title, author and publication date
+have been added, and is hereby added to the public domain.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id001'>
+<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='epubonly'>
+
+<p class='c001'>Any corrections are indicated as hyperlinks, which will navigate the
+reader to the corresponding entry in the corrections table in the
+note at the end of the text.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div>
+ <h1 class='c002'>THE WAYS OF THE HOUR.</h1>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter id002'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_I'>I</span>
+<img src='images/i_004.jpg' alt='The Theft' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic002'>
+<p>The Theft<br> <span class='small'><i>The Ways of the Hour</i></span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i_005.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='small'>“This bears some resemblance, <a id='corri.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mr'>Mr.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_i.1'><ins class='correction' title='Mr'>Mr.</ins></a></span> Wilmeter, to an interview<br> in a convent. I am the novice, you the excluded friend, who is<br> compelled to pay his visit through a grate.”<br> <cite>Ways of the Hour. Page 115.</cite></span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c003'>
+ <div>THE</div>
+ <div class='c000'><span class='xlarge'>WAYS OF THE HOUR.</span></div>
+ <div class='c004'><i>A TALE.</i></div>
+ <div class='c005'><span class='small'>BY</span></div>
+ <div class='c000'><span class='large'>J. FENIMORE COOPER.</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in10'><span class='small'>‘Is this the way</span></div>
+ <div class='line'><span class='small'>I must return to native dust?’</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c007'>
+ <div>NEW YORK:</div>
+ <div>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,</div>
+ <div>1892.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='c008'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+ <div class='nf-center'>
+ <div><span class='small'>Entered, according to the Act of Congress, In the year 1861, by</span></div>
+ <div>W. A. TOWNSEND AND COMPANY,</div>
+ <div><span class='small'>In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='figcenter id004'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span>
+<img src='images/i_009.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <h2 class='c009'>PREFACE.</h2>
+</div>
+<hr class='c010'>
+
+<p class='c011'>The object of this book is to draw the attention of
+the reader to some of the social evils that beset us;
+more particularly in connection with the administration
+of criminal justice. So long a time has intervened
+since the thought occurred, and so many interruptions
+have delayed the progress of the work, that it is felt
+the subject has been very imperfectly treated; but it is
+hoped that enough has been done to cause a few to reflect
+on a matter of vital importance; one that to them
+may possess the interest of novelty.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A strange indifference exists as to the composition of
+the juries. In our view, the institution itself, so admirable
+in a monarchy, is totally unsuited to a democracy.
+The very principle that renders it so safe where there is
+a great central power to resist, renders it unsafe in a
+state of society in which few have sufficient resolution
+to attempt even to resist popular impulses.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A hundred instances might be given in which the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_vi'>vi</span>juries of this country are an evil; one or two of which
+we will point out. In trials between railroad companies
+and those who dwell along their lines, prejudice is
+usually so strong against the former, that justice for
+them is nearly hopeless. In certain parts of the country,
+the juries are made the instruments of defeating
+the claims of creditors who dwell at a distance, and are
+believed to have interests opposed to the particular
+community where the debtor resides. This is a most
+crying evil, and has been the source of many and grievous
+wrongs. Whenever there is a motive for creating
+a simulated public opinion, by the united action of several
+journals, justice is next to hopeless; such combinations
+rarely, if ever, occurring in its behalf. In cases
+that are connected with the workings of political
+schemes, and not unfrequently in those in which political
+men are parties to the suits, it is often found that
+the general prejudices or partialities of the out-door factions
+enter the jury-box. This is a most serious evil
+too; for, even when the feeling does not produce a
+direct and flagrant wrong, it is very apt so far to temper
+the right as to deprive it of much of its virtue. In
+a country like this, in which party penetrates to the
+very bottom of society, the extent of this evil can be
+known only to those who are brought into close contact
+with the ordinary workings of the institution.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In a democracy, proper selections in the material that
+are necessary to render juries safe, become nearly impossible.
+Then, the tendency is to the accumulation of
+power in bodies of men; and in a state of society like
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span>our own, the juries get to be much too independent of
+the opinion of the court. It is precisely in that condition
+of things in which the influence and authority of
+the judge guide the juror, and the investigation and
+substantial power of the juror react on the proceedings
+of the court, that the greatest benefits have been found
+to accrue from this institution. The reverse of this
+state of things will be very likely to produce the greatest
+amount of evil.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is certain that the juries are falling into disrepute
+throughout the length and breadth of the land. The
+difficulty is to find a substitute. As they are bodies
+holding the lives, property and character of every member
+of the community, more or less, in their power, it is
+not to be supposed that the masses will surrender this
+important means of exercising their authority voluntarily,
+or with good will. Time alone can bring reform
+through the extent of the abuses.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The writer has not the vanity to suppose that any
+thing contained in this book will produce a very serious
+impression on the popularity of the jury. Such is not
+its design. All that is anticipated is to cause a portion
+of his readers to reflect on the subject; persons who
+probably have never yet given it a moment of thought.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>There is a tendency, at the present time, to court
+change for its own sake. This is erroneously termed a
+love of reform. Something very like a revolution is
+going on in our midst, while there is much reason to
+apprehend that few real grievances are abated; the
+spurious too exclusively occupying the popular mind,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>to render easy a just distinction between them. When
+an American prates about aristocracy, it is pretty safe
+to set him down as knavish or ignorant. It is purely
+cant; and the declaimers would be puzzled to point to
+a single element of the little understood and much decried
+institution, the country being absolutely without
+any, unless the enjoyment of the ordinary rights of
+property can be so considered. But the demagogue
+must have his war-cry as well as the Indian; and it is
+probable he will continue to whoop as long as the
+country contains minds weak enough to furnish him
+with dupes.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='small'><span class='sc'>Cooperstown</span>, <i>March 12, 1850</i>.</span></p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id001'>
+<img src='images/i_012.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c007'>
+ <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span><span class='xlarge'>THE WAYS OF THE HOUR.</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='c012'>
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l c013'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><i>Mar.</i> My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed?</div>
+ <div class='line'><i>Aum.</i> Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in.</div>
+ <div class='line in38'><cite>King Richard II.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c014'>In one respect, there is a visible improvement in the goodly
+town of Manhattan, and that is in its architecture. Of its
+growth, there has never been any question, while many have
+disputed its pretension to improvement. A vast expansion of
+mediocrity, though useful and imposing, rarely satisfies either
+the judgment or the taste; those who possess these qualities,
+requiring a nearer approach to what is excellent, than can ever
+be found beneath the term just mentioned.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A town which is built of red bricks, that are faced with white
+marble, the whole garnished with green blinds, can never have
+but one outward sign—that of tawdry vulgarity. But this
+radical defect is slowly disappearing from the streets of Manhattan;
+and those who build, are getting to understand that
+architecture, like statuary, will not admit of strong contrasts in
+colours. Horace Walpole tells us of a certain old Lord Pembroke,
+who blackened the eyes of the gods and goddesses in the
+celebrated gallery at Wilton, and prided himself on the achievement,
+as if he had been another Phidias. There have been
+thousands of those who have laboured in the spirit of this Earl
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>of Pembroke in the streets of all the American towns; but travelling,
+hints, books and example, are slowly effecting a change;
+and whole squares may now be seen in which the eye rests with
+satisfaction on blinds, facings and bricks, all brought to the same
+pleasing, sober, architectural tint. We regard this as the first
+step, in advance, that has been made in the right direction, so
+far as the outward aspect of the town is concerned, and look forward,
+with hope, to the day when Manhattan shall have banished
+its rag-fair finery altogether, and the place will become as remarkable
+for the chaste simplicity of its streets, as they have hitherto
+been for their marked want of taste.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>With this great town, mottled as it is, in people as well as in
+hues, with its native population collected from all parts of this
+vast republic, and its European representatives amounting to
+scores of thousands, we shall have much to do in the succeeding
+pages. Our researches, however, will be bestowed more on
+things moral than on things physical; and we shall endeavour
+to carry the reader with us through scenes that, we regret to say,
+are far more characteristic than novel.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In one of the cross streets that communicate with Broadway,
+and below Canal, stands a dwelling that is obnoxious to all the
+charges of bad taste to which there has already been allusion, as
+well as to certain others that have not yet been named, at all.
+A quarter of a century since, or within the first twenty years of
+its own existence, the house in question would have been regarded
+as decidedly patrician, though it is now lost amid the thousands
+of similar abodes that have arisen since its own construction.
+There it stands, with its red bricks periodically painted redder;
+its marble facings, making a livery of red turned up with white;
+its green blinds, its high stoop, its half-buried and low basement,
+and all its neatness and comfort, notwithstanding its flagrant
+architectural sins. Into this building we now propose to enter,
+at the very early hour of eight in the morning.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>The principal floor was divided, as usual, between a dining and
+a drawing-room, with large communicating doors. This was the
+stereotyped construction of all Manhattanese dwellings of any
+pretension, a quarter of a century since; and that of Mr. Thomas
+Dunscomb, the owner and occupant of the house in question,
+had been built in rigid conformity with the fashion of its day.
+’Squire Dunscomb, as this gentleman was termed in all the
+adjacent country counties, where he was well known as a reliable
+and sound legal adviser; Mr. Thomas Dunscomb, as he was
+styled by various single ladies, who wondered he never married;
+or Tom Dunscomb, as he was familiarly called by a herd of unyoked
+youths, all of whom were turned of sixty, was a capital
+fellow in each of his many characters. As a lawyer, he was as
+near the top of the bar as a man can be, who never had any pretensions
+to be an orator, and whose longest effort seldom exceeded
+half an hour. Should the plan of placing eloquence in hobbles
+reach our own bar, his habit of condensing, his trick of getting
+<span lang="la"><i>multum in parvo</i></span>, may yet bring him to the very summit; for
+he will have an immense advantage over those who, resembling
+a country buck at a town ball, need the whole field to cut their
+flourishes in. As a man of the world, he was well-bred, though
+a little cynical, very agreeable, most especially with the ladies,
+and quite familiar with all the better habits of the best-toned
+circles of the place. As a boon companion, Tom Dunscomb
+was an immense favourite, being particularly warm-hearted, and
+always ready for any extra eating or drinking. In addition to
+these leading qualities, Dunscomb was known to be rich, having
+inherited a very tolerable estate, as well as having added much
+to his means, by a large and lucrative practice. If to these circumstances
+we add that of a very prepossessing personal appearance,
+in which age was very green, the reader has all that is
+necessary for an introduction to one of our principal characters.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Though a bachelor, Mr. Dunscomb did not live alone. He
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>had a nephew and a niece in his family, the orphan children of a
+sister who had now been dead many years. They bore the name
+of Wilmeter, which, in the family parlance, was almost always
+pronounced Wilmington. It was Jack Wilmington, and Sally
+Wilmington, at school, at home, and with all their intimates;
+though Mr. John Wilmeter and Miss Sarah Wilmeter were often
+spoken of in their little out-door world; it being rather an affectation
+of the times to prove, in this manner, that one retains
+some knowledge of the spelling-book. We shall write the name
+as it is written by the parties themselves, forewarning the reader
+that if he desire to pronounce it by the same family standard,
+he must take the unauthorized spelling as a guide. We own
+ourselves to a strong predilection for old familiar sounds, as well
+as old familiar faces.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At half-past 8, A. M., of a fine morning, late in May, when
+the roses were beginning to show their tints amid the verdure of
+the leaves, in Mr. Dunscomb’s yard, the three individuals just
+mentioned were at the breakfast-table of what it is the fashion
+of New York to term a dining-room. The windows were open,
+and a soft and fragrant air filled the apartment. We have said
+that Mr. Dunscomb was affluent, and he chose to enjoy his
+means, not à la Manhattan, in idle competition with the <span lang="fr"><i>nouveaux
+riches</i></span>, but in a more quiet and rational way. His father had
+occupied lots, ‘running through,’ as it is termed; building his
+house on one street and his stables on the other; leaving himself
+a space in the rear of the former, that was prodigious for a town
+so squeezed into parallelograms of twenty-five feet by a hundred.
+This open space was of the usual breadth, but it actually measured
+a hundred and fifty feet in length, an area that would have
+almost justified its being termed a ‘park,’ in the nomenclature
+of the town. This yard Sarah had caused to be well garnished
+with shrubbery, and, for its dimensions, it was really a sort of
+oasis, in that wilderness of bricks.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>The family was not alone that morning. A certain Michael
+Millington was a guest of Jack’s, and seemingly quite at home
+in the little circle. The business of eating and drinking was
+pretty well through with, though each of the four cups had its
+remains of tea or coffee, and Sarah sat stirring hers idly, while
+her soft eyes were turned with interest on the countenances of the
+two young men. The last had a sheet of writing-paper lying
+between them, and their heads were close together, as both
+studied that which was written on it in pencil. As for Mr. Dunscomb,
+himself, he was fairly surrounded by documents of one
+sort and another. Two or three of the morning papers, glanced
+at but not read, lay opened on the floor; on each side of his plate
+was a brief, or some lease or release; while a copy of the new
+and much talked of code was in his hand. As we say in our
+American English, Mr. Dunscomb was ‘emphatically’ a common-law
+lawyer; and, as our transatlantic brethren would remark
+in their sometime cockney dialect, he was not at all ‘agreeable’
+to this great innovation on ‘the perfection of human reason.’
+He muttered occasionally as he read, and now and then he laid
+down the book, and seemed to muse. All this, however, was
+quite lost on Sarah, whose soft blue eyes still rested on the interested
+countenances of the two young men. At length Jack
+seized the paper, and wrote a line or two hurriedly, with his
+pencil.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There, Mike,” he said, in a tone of self-gratulation, “I
+think <em>that</em> will do!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It has one merit of a good toast,” answered the friend, a
+little doubtingly; “it is sententious.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As all toasts ought to be. If we are to have this dinner,
+and the speeches, and all the usual publications afterwards, I
+choose that we should appear with some little credit. Pray, sir,”
+raising his eyes to his uncle, and his voice to correspond, “what
+do you think of it, now?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>“Just as I always have, Jack. It will never do at all. Justice
+would halt miserably under such a system of practice. Some
+of the forms of pleadings are infernal, if pleadings they can be
+called at all. I detest even the names they give their proceedings—complaints
+and answers!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They are certainly not as formidable to the ear,” returned
+Jack, a little saucily, “as rebutters and sur-rebutters. But I
+was not thinking of the code, sir; I was asking your opinion of
+my new toast.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Even a fee could not extract an opinion, unless I heard it
+read.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, sir, here it is: ‘The constitution of the United States;
+the palladium of our civil and religious liberties,’ Now, I do
+not think I can much better that, uncle Tom!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m very sorry to hear you say so, Jack.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why so, sir? I’m sure it is good American sentiment;
+and what is more, it has a flavour of the old English principles
+that you so much admire, about it, too. Why do you dislike it,
+sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For several reasons—it would be common-place, which a
+toast should never be, were it true; but there happens not to be
+a word of truth in your sentiment, sonorous as it may sound in
+your ears.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not true! Does not the constitution guaranty to the citizen
+religious liberty?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not a bit of it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You amaze me, sir! Why, here, just listen to its language,
+if you please.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Hereupon Jack opened a book, and read the clause on which
+he relied to confute one of the ablest constitutional lawyers and
+clearest heads in America. Not that Mr. Dunscomb was what
+is called an “expounder,” great or small; but he never made a
+mistake on the subject in hand, and had often caused the best of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>the “expounders” to retrace their steps. He was an original
+thinker, but of the safest and most useful sort; one who distinguished
+between the <em>institutions</em> of England and America, while
+he submitted to the fair application of minor principles that are
+so common to both. As for his nephew, he knew no more of the
+great instrument he held in his hand, than he had gleaned from
+ill-digested newspaper remarks, vapid speeches in Congress, and
+the erroneous notions that float about the country, coming from
+“nobody knows whom,” and leading literally to nothing. The
+ignorance that prevails on such subjects is really astounding, when
+one remembers the great number of battles that are annually
+fought over this much-neglected compact.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, here is the clause—just please to hear it, sir,” continued
+Jack.—“‘Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment
+of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or
+abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right
+of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government
+for a redress of grievances.’ There, I think that will go
+far towards justifying the whole toast, Mike.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was said a little triumphantly, and not a little <a id='corr15.20'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='confidently'>confidently.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_15.20'><ins class='correction' title='confidently'>confidently.</ins></a></span>
+The only answer Mr. Dunscomb condescended to make, was an
+expressive “Umph!” As for Michael Millington, he was a little
+timid about expressing an opinion, and that for two reasons; he
+had often experienced Mr. Dunscomb’s superior wisdom, and he
+knew that Sarah heard all that passed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I wish your uncle would lay aside that code for a minute,
+Jack, and let us know what he thinks of our authorities,” said
+Michael, in an under tone.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Come, Uncle Tom,” cried the more hardy nephew—“come
+out of your reserve, and face the constitution of your country.
+Even Sarah can see that, for once, <em>we</em> are right, and that my
+toast is of proof.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is a very good proof-<em>sheet</em>, Jack, not only of your own
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>mind, but of half the minds in the country. Ranker nonsense
+cannot be uttered, however, than to say that the Constitution of
+the United States is the palladium of anything in which civil or
+religious liberty is concerned.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You do not dispute the fidelity of my quotation, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By no means. The clause you read is a very useless exhibition
+of certain facts that existed just as distinctly before it was
+framed, as they do to-day. Congress had no power to make an
+established religion, or abridge the freedom of speech, or that of
+the press, or the right of the people to petition, before that
+amendment was introduced, and consequently the clause itself is
+supererogatory. You take nothing by your motion, Jack.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not understand you, sir. To me, it seems that I have
+the best of it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Congress has no power but what has been conceded to it
+directly, or by necessary connection. Now, there happens to be
+nothing said about granting any such authority to Congress, and
+consequently the prohibition is not necessary. But, admitting
+that Congress did really possess the power to establish a religion
+previously to the adoption of this amendment, the constitution
+would not prove a palladium to religious liberty, unless it prohibited
+everybody else from meddling with the opinions of the
+citizen. Any state of this Union that pleases, may establish a
+religion, and compel its citizens to support it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, sir, our own state constitution has a provision similar
+to this, to prevent it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true; but our own state constitution can be altered in
+this behalf, without asking permission of any one but our own
+people. I think that even Sarah will understand that the
+United States is no palladium of religious liberty, if it cannot
+prevent a state from establishing Mohamedanism, as soon as a
+few forms can be complied with.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Sarah coloured, glanced timidly at Michael Millington, but
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>made no reply. She did not understand much of what she had
+just heard, though rather an intelligent girl, but had hoped that
+Jack and his friend were nearer right than was likely to turn out
+to be the case. Jack, himself, being a young limb of the law
+comprehended what his uncle meant, and had the grace to colour,
+too, at the manner in which he had manifested his ignorance of
+the great national compact. With a view to relieve himself from
+his dilemma, he cried, with a ready dexterity,—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, since this won’t do, I must try the jury. ‘The trial
+by jury, the palladium of our liberties.’ How do you like that,
+sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Worse than the other, boy. God protect the country that
+has no better shield against wrong, than that which a jury can
+hold before it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Jack looked at Michael, and Michael looked at Jack; while
+Sarah looked at both in turn.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You surely will not deny, sir, that the trial by jury is one
+of the most precious of the gifts received from our ancestors?”
+said the first, a little categorically, Sarah brightening up at this
+question, as he fancied that her brother had now got on solid
+ground.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Your question cannot be answered in a breath, Jack,” returned
+the uncle. “The trial by jury <em>was</em> undoubtedly a most
+precious boon bestowed on a people among whom there existed
+an hereditary ruling power, on the abuses of which it was often
+a most salutary check.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, sir, is it not the same check here; assuring to the
+citizens independent justice?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Who compose the ruling power in America, Jack?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The people, to be sure, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And who the jurors?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The people, too, I suppose,” answered the nephew, hesitating
+a little before he replied.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>“Well, let us suppose a citizen has a conflict of rights with
+the public, which is the government, who will compose the tribunal
+that is to decide the question?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A jury, to be sure, sir. The trial by jury is guarantied by
+the constitution, to us all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay,” said Mr. Dunscomb, smiling, “much as are our religious
+and political liberties. But according to your own admission,
+this is very much like making one of the parties a judge in
+his own case. A. insists that he has a right to certain lands, for
+instance, which the public claims for itself. In such a case, part
+of the public compose the tribunal.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But is it not true, Mr. Dunscomb,” put in Millington,
+“that the popular prejudice is usually against government, in all
+cases with private citizens?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Sarah’s face looked brighter now than ever, for she felt sure
+that Mike, as her brother familiarly called his friend, had asked
+a most apposite question.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly; you are right as to particular sets of cases, but
+wrong as to others. In a commercial town like this, the feeling
+is against government in all cases connected with the collection
+of the revenue, I admit; and you will see that the fact makes
+against the trial by jury in another form, since a judge ought to
+be strictly impartial; above all prejudice whatever.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But, uncle, a judge and a jury are surely very different
+things,” cried Sarah, secretly impelled to come to Michael’s
+rescue, though she scarce knew anything of the merits of the
+subject.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Quite right, my dear,” the uncle answered, nodding his head
+kindly, casting a glance at his niece that caused her to blush under
+the consciousness of being fully understood in her motives,
+if not in her remark. “Most profoundly right; a judge and a
+juror ought to be very different things. What I most complain
+of is the fact that the jurors are fast becoming judges. Nay, by
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>George, they are getting to be legislators, making the law as well
+as interpreting it. How often does it happen, now-a-days, that
+the court tell the jury that such is the law, and the jury comes
+in with a verdict which tells the court that such is <em>not</em> the law?
+This is an every-day occurrence, in the actual state of public
+opinion.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But the court will order a new trial, if the verdict is against
+law and evidence,” said Michael, determined that Sarah should
+be sustained.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, and another jury will be quite likely to sustain the old
+one. No—no—the trial by jury is no more a palladium of our
+liberties, than the Constitution of the United States.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Who, or what is, then, sir?” demanded Jack.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“God! Yes, the Deity, in his Divine Providence; if anything
+is to save us. It may not be his pleasure to let us perish,
+for it would seem that some great plan for the advancement of
+civilization is going on, and it may be a part of it to make us
+important agents. All things regarded, I am much inclined to
+believe such is the fact. But, did the result depend on us,
+miserable instruments in the Almighty hands as we are, woeful
+would be the end!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You do not look at things <span lang="fr"><i>couleur de rose</i></span>, Uncle Tom,”
+Sarah smilingly observed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Because I am not a young lady of twenty, who is well satisfied
+with herself and her advantages. There is but one character
+for which I have a greater contempt than that of a senseless
+grumbler, who regards all things <span lang="fr"><i>à tort et à travers</i></span>, and who
+cries, there is nothing good in the world.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And what is the exception, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The man who is puffed up with conceit, and fancies all
+around him perfection, when so much of it is the reverse;
+who ever shouts ‘liberty,’ in the midst of the direst oppression.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>“But direst oppression is certainly no term to be applied to
+anything in New York!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You think not? What would you say to a state of society
+in which the law is available to one class of citizens only, in the
+way of compulsion, and not at all, in the way of protection?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not understand you, sir; here, it is our boast that all
+are protected, alike.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, so far as <em>boasting</em> goes, we are beyond reproach. But
+what are the facts? Here is a man that owes money. The law
+is appealed to, to compel payment. Verdict is rendered, and
+execution issued. The sheriff enters his house, and sells his
+very furniture, to extort the amount of the debt from him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is his misfortune, sir. Such things must happen to all
+debtors who cannot, or will not, pay.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If this were true, I should have nothing to say. Imagine
+this very debtor to be also a creditor; to have debts due to him,
+of many times the sums that he owes, but which the law will <em>not</em>
+aid him in collecting. For him, the law is all oppression—no
+protection.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But, surely, Uncle Tom, nothing of the sort exists here!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Surely, Miss Sarah Wilmeter, such things <em>do</em> exist here in
+practice, whatever may be the theory on the subject; what is
+more, they exist under the influence of facts that are directly connected
+with the working of the institutions. My case is not supposititious,
+at all, but real. Several landlords have quite recently
+felt all the rigours of the law as debtors, when it was a dead letter
+to them, in their character of creditors. This has actually happened,
+and that more than once; and it might happen a hundred
+times, were the landlords more in debt. In the latter case, it
+would be an every-day occurrence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>‘What, sir,’ exclaimed Michael Millington; ‘the law enforce,
+when it will not protect?’</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That it does, young man, in many interests that I could
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>point out to you. But here is as flagrant a case of unmitigated
+tyranny as can be cited against any country in Christendom. A
+citizen is sold out of house and home, under process of law, for
+debt; and when he asks for the use of the same process of law
+to collect his undeniable dues, it is, in effect, denied him. And
+this among the people who boast that their independence is
+derived from a spirit that would not be taxed! A people who
+are hourly shouting hosannas in honour of their justice!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>‘It cannot be, Uncle Tom, that this is done, in terms,’ cried
+the astounded nephew.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If, by terms, you mean professions of justice, and liberty,
+and equal rights, they are fair enough; in all those particulars
+we are irreproachable. As ‘<em>professors</em>’ no people can talk more
+volubly or nearer to the point—I allude only to facts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But these facts may be explained—qualified—are not as
+flagrant as they seem under your statement?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In what manner?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, sir, this is but a <em>temporary</em> evil, perhaps.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It has lasted, not days, nor weeks, nor months, but years.
+What is more, it is an evil that has not occurred in a corner,
+where it might be overlooked; but it exists within ten miles of
+your capital, in plain sight of your legislators, and owes its impunity
+solely to their profound deference to votes. In a word,
+it is a part of the political system under which we live; and that
+far more so than any disposition to tyranny that might happen to
+manifest itself in an individual king.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not the tenants who refuse to pay, fancy that their landlords
+have no right to their estates, and does not the whole difficulty
+arise from misapprehension?” asked Michael, a little
+timidly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What would that have to do with the service of process, if it
+were true? When a sheriff’s officer comes among these men,
+they take his authority from him, and send him away empty.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>Rights are to be determined only by the law, since they are
+derived from the law; and he who meets the law at the threshold,
+and denies it entrance, can never seriously pretend that he resists
+because the other party has no claims. No, no, young gentleman—this
+is all a fetch. The evil is of years’ standing; it is of
+the character of the direst oppression, and of oppression of the
+worst sort, that of many oppressing a few; cases in which the
+sufferer is cut off from sympathy, as you can see by the apathy
+of the community, which is singing hosannas to its own perfection,
+while this great wrong is committed under its very nose.
+Had a landlord oppressed his tenants, their clamour would have
+made itself heard throughout the land. The worst feature in
+the case, is that which connects the whole thing so very obviously
+with the ordinary working of the institutions. If it were merely
+human covetousness struggling against the institutions, the last
+might prove the strongest; but it is cupidity, of the basest and
+most transparent nature, <em>using</em> the institutions themselves to
+effect its purpose.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am surprised that something was not done by the last convention
+to meet the evil!” said Jack, who was much struck with
+the enormity of the wrong, placed before his eyes in its simplest
+form, as it had been by his direct-minded and clear-headed
+kinsman.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is because you do not know what a convention has got
+to be. Its object is to push principles into impracticable extremes,
+under the silly pretension of progress, and not to abate
+evils. I made a suggestion myself, to certain members of that
+convention, which, in my poor judgment, would have effectually
+cured this disease; but no member had the courage to propose <a id='corr22.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='it'>it.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_22.29'><ins class='correction' title='it'>it.</ins></a></span>
+Doubtless, it would have been useless had it been otherwise.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It was worth the trial, if such were likely to be its result.
+What was your plan, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Simply to disfranchise any district in which the law could
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>not be enforced by means of combinations of its people. On
+application to the highest court of the state, an order might be
+granted that no polls should be held in one, or more, towns, or
+counties, in which combinations existed of a force sufficient to
+prevent the laws from being put in force. Nothing could be
+more just than to say that men who will not obey the law shall
+not have a voice in making it, and to me it really seems that
+some such provision would be the best possible expedient to
+check this growing evil. It would be choking the enemy with
+his own food.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why was it not done, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Simply because our sages were speculating on votes, and not
+on principles. They will talk to you like so many books touching
+the vices of all foreign systems, but are ready to die in defence
+of the perfection of their own.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why was it necessary to make a new constitution, the other
+day,” asked Sarah, innocently, “if the old one was so very
+excellent?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sure enough—the answer might puzzle wiser heads than
+yours, child. Perfection requires a great deal of tinkering, in
+this country. We scarcely adopt one plan that shall secure
+everybody’s rights and liberties, than another is broached, to
+secure some newly-discovered rights and liberties. With the
+dire example before them, of the manner in which the elective
+franchise is abused, in this anti-rent movement, the sages of the
+land have just given to the mass the election of judges; as beautiful
+a scheme for making the bench coalesce with the jury-box
+as human ingenuity could invent!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As all present knew that Mr. Dunscomb was bitterly opposed
+to the new constitution, no one was surprised at this last assertion.
+It did create wonder, however, in the minds of all three
+of the ingenuous young persons, when the fact—an undeniable
+and most crushing one it is, too, so far as any high pretension to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>true liberty is concerned—was plainly laid before them, that
+citizens were to be found in New York <em>against</em> whom the law
+was rigidly enforced, while it was powerless in their behalf.
+We have never known this aspect of the case presented to any
+mind, that it did not evidently produce a deep impression, <em>for
+the moment</em>; but, alas! “what is everybody’s business is nobody’s
+business,” and few care for the violation of a principle
+when the wrong does not affect themselves. These young folk
+were, like all around them, unconscious even that they dwelt in
+a community in which so atrocious a wrong was daily done, and,
+for the moment, were startled when the truth was placed before
+their eyes. The young men, near friends, and, by certain signs,
+likely to be even more closely united, were much addicted to
+speculating on the course of events, as they conceived them to
+be tending, in other countries. Michael Millington, in particular,
+was a good deal of a general politician, having delivered
+several orations, in which he had laid some stress on the greater
+happiness of the people of this much favoured land, over those
+of all other countries, and especially on the subject of equal
+rights. He was too young, yet, to have learned the wholesome
+truth, that equality of rights, in practice, exists nowhere; the
+ingenuity and selfishness of man finding the means to pervert to
+narrow purposes, the most cautious laws that have ever been
+adopted in furtherance of a principle that would seem to be so
+just. Nor did he know that the Bible contains all the wisdom
+and justice, transmitted as divine precepts, that are necessary
+to secure to every man all that it is desirable to possess here
+below.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The conversation was terminated by the entrance of a fourth
+colloquist, in the person of Edward McBrain, M. D., who was
+not only the family physician, but the bosom friend of the
+lawyer. The two liked each other on the principle of loving
+their opposites. One was a bachelor, the other was about to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>marry his third wife; one was a little of a cynic, the other much
+of a philanthropist; one distrustful of human nature, the other
+too confiding; one cautious to excess, the other absolutely impetuous,
+whenever anything strongly interested his feelings.
+They were alike in being Manhattanese by birth, somewhat a
+novelty in a New Yorker; in being equally graduates of Columbia,
+and classmates; in a real love of their fellow-creatures;
+in goodness of heart, and in integrity. Had either been wanting
+in these last great essentials, the other could not have
+endured him.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>O change!—stupendous change!</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>There lies the soulless clod;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The sun eternal breaks—</div>
+ <div class='line'>The new immortal wakes—</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Wakes with his God.</div>
+ <div class='line in15'><cite>Mrs. Southey.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>As Dr. McBrain entered the room, the two young men and
+Sarah, after saluting him like very familiar acquaintances, passed
+out into what the niece called her “garden.” Here she immediately
+set her scissors at work in clipping roses, violets, and
+other early flowers, to make bouquets for her companions. That
+of Michael was much the largest and most tasteful; but this her
+brother did not remark, as he was in a brown study, reflecting
+on the singularity of the circumstance that the Constitution of
+the United States should not be the “palladium of his political
+and religious liberties.” Jack saw, for the first time in his life,
+that a true knowledge of the constitution was not to be found
+floating about in society, and that “there was more in the
+nature of the great national compact than was dreamt of in his
+philosophy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, Ned,” said the lawyer, holding out his hand kindly
+but not rising from his chair, “what has brought you here so
+early? Has old Martha spoilt your tea?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not at all; I have paid this visit, as it might be, professionally.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Professionally! I never was better in my life; and set you
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>down as a false prophet, or no doctor, if you like that better, for
+the gout has not even given a premonitory hint, this spring; and
+I hope, now I have given up Sauterne altogether, and take but
+four glasses of Madeira at dinner——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Two, too many.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll engage to drink nothing but sherry, Ned, if you’ll consent
+to four, and that without any of those forbidding looks.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Agreed; sherry has less acidity, and consequently less gout,
+than Madeira. But my business here this morning, though
+professional, does not relate to my craft, but to your <a id='corr27.10'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='own.’'>own.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_27.10'><ins class='correction' title='own.’'>own.”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To the law? Now I take another look at you, I do see
+trouble in your physiognomy; am I not to draw the marriage
+settlements, after all?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There are to be none. The new law gives a woman the
+entire control of all her property, they tell me, and I suppose
+she will not expect the control of mine.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Umph! Yes, she ought to be satisfied with things as they
+are, for she will remain mistress of all her cups and saucers,
+even,—ay, and of her houses and lands, in the bargain. Hang
+me, if I would ever marry, when the contract is so one-sided.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You never did, when the contract was t’other-sided. For
+my part, Tom, I’m disposed to leave a woman mistress of her
+own. The experiment is worth the trial, if it be only to see the
+use she will make of her money.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are always experimenting among the women, and are
+about to try a third wife. Thank Heaven, I’ve got on sixty
+years, quite comfortably, without even one.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have only half lived your life. No old bachelor—meaning
+a man after forty—knows anything of real happiness.
+It is necessary to be married, in order to be truly happy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I wonder you did not add, ‘two or three times.’ But you
+may make this new contract with greater confidence than either
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>of the others. I suppose you have seen this new divorce project
+that is, or has been, before the legislature?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Divorce! I trust no such foolish law will pass. This calling
+marriage a ‘contract,’ too, is what I never liked. It is
+something far more than a ‘contract,’ in my view of the
+matter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Still, that is what the law considers it to be. Get out of
+this new scrape, Ned, if you can with any honour, and remain
+an independent freeman for the rest of your days. I dare say
+the widow could soon find some other amorous youth to place
+her affections on. It matters not much whom a woman loves,
+provided she love. Of this, I’m certain, from seeing the sort
+of animals so many <em>do</em> love.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nonsense; a bachelor talking of love, or matrimony, usually
+makes a zany of himself. It is <span lang="la"><i>terra incognita</i></span> to you, my boy,
+and the less you say about it, the better. You are the only
+human being, Tom, I ever met with, who has not, some time or
+other, been in love. I really believe you never knew what the
+passion is”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I fell in love, early in life, with a certain my lord Coke, and
+have remained true to my first attachment. Besides, I saw I
+had an intimate friend who would do all the marrying that was
+necessary for two, or even for three; so I determined, from the
+first, to remain single. A man has only to be firm, and he may
+set Cupid at defiance. It is not so with women, I do believe; it
+is part of their nature to love, else would no woman admire you,
+at your time of life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I don’t know that—I am by no means sure of that. Each
+time I had the misfortune to become a widower, I was just as
+determined to pass the remainder of my days in reflecting on the
+worth of her I had lost, as you can be to remain a bachelor; but
+somehow or other, I don’t pretend to account for it, not a year
+passed before I have found inducements to enter into new engagements.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>It is a blessed thing, is matrimony, and I am
+resolved not to continue single an hour longer than is necessary.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb laughed out, at the earnest manner in which his
+friend spoke, though conversations, like this we have been relating,
+were of frequent occurrence between them.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The same old sixpence, Ned! A Benedict as a boy, a Benedict
+as a man, and a Benedict as a dotard——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Dotard! My good fellow, let me tell you——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Poh! I don’t desire to hear it. But as you came on business
+connected with the law, and that business is not a marriage-settlement,
+what is it? Does old Kingsborough maintain his
+right to the Harlem lot?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, he has given the claim up, at last. My business, Tom,
+is of a very different nature. What are we coming to, and what
+is to be the end of it all!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As the doctor looked far more than he expressed, Dunscomb
+was struck with his manner. The Siamese twins scarce understand
+each other’s impulses and wishes better than these two
+men comprehended each other’s feelings; and Tom saw at once
+that Ned was now very much in earnest.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Coming to?” repeated Dunscomb. “Do you mean the
+new code, or the ‘Woman-hold-the-Purse Law,’ as I call it? I
+don’t believe you look far enough ahead to foresee all the damnable
+consequences of an elective judiciary.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is not that—this, or that—I do not mean codes, constitutions,
+or pin-money. What is the <em>country</em> coming to, Tom Dunscomb—that
+is the question, I ask.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, and has the country nothing to do with constitutions,
+codes, and elective judges? I can tell you, Master Ned McBrain,
+M. D., that if the patient is to be saved at all, it must be by
+means of the judiciary, and I do not like the advice that has just
+been called in.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>“You are a croaker. They tell me the new judges are reasonably
+good.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“‘Reasonably’ is an expressive word. The new judges are
+<em>old</em> judges, in part, and in so much they do pretty well, by
+chance. Some of the new judges are excellent—but one of the
+very best men on the whole bench was run against one of the
+worst men who could have been put in his place. At the next
+heat I fear the bad fellow will get the track. If you do not
+mean what I have mentioned, what do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I mean the increase of crime—the murders, arsons, robberies,
+and other abominations that seem to take root among us,
+like so many exotics transplanted to a genial soil.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“‘Exotics’ and ‘genial’ be hanged! Men are alike everywhere.
+No one but a fool ever supposed that a republic is to
+stand, or fall, by its virtue.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yet, the common opinion is that such must be the final test
+of our institutions.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Jack has just been talking nonsense on this subject, and
+now <em>you</em> must come to aid him. But, what has your business
+with me, this morning, to do with the general depreciation in
+morals?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A great deal, as you will allow, when you come to hear my
+story.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dr. McBrain then proceeded forthwith to deliver himself of
+the matter which weighed so heavily on his mind. He was the
+owner of a small place in an adjoining county, where it was his
+custom to pass as much time, during the pleasant months, as a
+very extensive practice in town would allow. This was not
+much, it is true, though the worthy physician so contrived
+matters, that his visits to Timbully, as the place was called, if
+not long, were tolerably numerous. A kind-hearted, as well as
+a reasonably-affluent man, he never denied his professional services
+to his country neighbours, who eagerly asked his advice
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>whenever there was need of it. This portion of the doctor’s
+practice flourished on two accounts,—one being his known skill,
+and the other his known generosity. In a word, Dr. McBrain
+never received any compensation for his advice, from any in the
+immediate neighbourhood of his country residence. This rendered
+him exceedingly popular; and he might have been sent to
+Albany, but for a little cold water that was thrown on the project
+by a shrewd patriot, who suggested that while the physician
+was attending to affairs of state, he could not be administering
+to the ailings of his Timbully neighbours. This may have
+checked the doctor’s advancement, but it did not impair his
+popularity.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Now, it happened that the bridegroom-expectant had been out
+to Timbully, a distance of less than fifteen miles from his house
+in Bleecker street, with a view to order matters for the reception
+of the bride, it being the intention of the couple that were soon
+to be united to pass a few days there, immediately after the ceremony
+was performed. It was while at his place, attending to
+this most important duty, that an express came from the county
+town, requiring his presence before the coroner, where he was
+expected to give his evidence as a medical man. It seems that a
+house had been burned, and its owners, an aged couple, had
+been burnt in it. The remains of the bodies had been found,
+and an inquest was about to be held on them. This was pretty
+much all that the messenger could tell, though he rather thought
+that it was suspected the house had been set on fire, and the old
+people, consequently, murdered.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As a matter of course, Dr. McBrain obeyed the summons. A
+county town, in America, is often little more than a hamlet,
+though in New York they are usually places of some greater pretensions.
+The state has now near a dozen incorporated cities,
+with their mayors and aldermen, and with one exception, we believe
+these are all county towns. Then come the incorporated
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>villages, in which New York is fast getting to be rich, places
+containing from one to six or seven thousand souls, and which,
+as a rule, are steadily growing into respectable provincial towns.
+The largest of these usually contain “the county buildings,” as
+it is the custom to express it. But, in the older counties, immediately
+around the great commercial capital of the entire republic,
+these large villages do not always exist; or when they do exist,
+are not sufficiently central to meet the transcendental justice of
+democratic equality—a quality that is sometimes of as exacting
+pretension, as of real imbecility; as witness the remarks of Mr
+Dunscomb, in our opening chapter.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The county buildings of —— happen to stand in a small
+village, or what is considered a small village, in the lower part of
+the state. As the events of this tale are so recent, and the
+localities so familiar to many persons, we choose to call this village
+“Biberry,” and the county “Dukes.” Such was once the
+name of a New York county, though the appellation has been
+dropped, and this not from any particular distaste for the strawberry
+leaves; “Kings,” “Queens,” and “Duchess” having been
+wisely retained—wisely, as names should be as rarely changed
+as public convenience will allow.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dr. McBrain found the village of Biberry in a high state of
+excitement; one, indeed, of so intense a nature as to be far from
+favourable to the judicial enquiry that was then going on in the
+court-house. The old couple who were the sufferers in this affair
+had been much respected by all who knew them; he as a common-place,
+well-meaning man, of no particular capacity, and she as
+a managing, discreet, pious woman, whose greatest failing was a
+neatness that was carried somewhat too near to ferocity. Nevertheless,
+Mrs. Goodwin was, generally, even more respected than
+her husband, for she had the most mind, transacted most of the
+business of the family, and was habitually kind and attentive to
+every one who entered her dwelling; provided, always, that they
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>wiped their feet on her mats, of which it was necessary to pass
+no less than six, before the little parlour was reached, and did
+not spit on her carpet, or did not want any of her money. This
+popularity added greatly to the excitement; men, and women
+also, commonly feeling a stronger desire to investigate wrongs
+done to those they esteem, than to investigate wrongs done to
+those concerning whom they are indifferent.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Doctor McBrain found the charred remains of this unfortunate
+couple laid on a table in the court-house, the coroner in attendance,
+and a jury empanelled. Much of the evidence concerning
+the discovery of the fire had been gone through with, and was
+of a very simple character. Some one who was stirring earlier
+than common had seen the house in a bright blaze, had given
+the alarm, and had preceded the crowd from the village, on the
+road to the burning dwelling. The Goodwins had resided in a
+neat, retired cottage, at the distance of near two miles from
+Biberry, though in sight from the village; and by the time the
+first man from the latter reached the spot, the roof had fallen in,
+and the materials were mostly consumed. A dozen, or more, of
+the nearest neighbours were collected around the ruins, and
+some articles of household furniture had been saved; but, on the
+whole, it was regarded as one of the most sudden and destructive
+fires ever known in that part of the country. When the engine
+arrived from the village, it played briskly on the fire, and was
+the means of soon reducing all within the outer walls, which
+were of stone, to a pile of blackened and smouldering wood. It
+was owing to this circumstance that any portion of the remains
+of the late owners of the house had been found, as was done in
+the manner thus described, in his testimony, by Peter Bacon, the
+person who had first given the alarm in Biberry.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As soon as ever I seed it was Peter Goodwin’s house that
+made the light,” continued this intelligent witness, in the course
+of his examination,—“I guv’ the alarm, and started off on the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>run, to see what I could do. By the time I got to the top of
+Brudler’s Hill, I was fairly out of breath, I can tell you, Mr.
+Coroner and Gentlemen of the Jury, and so I was obliged to
+pull up a bit. This guv’ the fire a so much better sweep, and
+when I reached the spot, there was little chance for doing much
+good. We got out a chest of drawers, and the young woman
+who boarded with the Goodwins was helped down out of the
+window, and most of her clothes, I b’lieve, was saved, so far as I
+know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Stop,” interrupted the coroner; “there was a young woman
+in the house, you say.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; what I call a young woman, or a gal like; though
+other some calls her a young woman. Waal, she was got out;
+and her clothes was got out; but nobody could get out the old
+folks. As soon as the ingyne come up we turned on the water,
+and that put out the fire about the quickest. Arter that we went
+to diggin’, and soon found what folks call the remains, though
+to my notion there is little enough on ’em that is left.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You dug out the remains,” said the coroner, writing; “in
+what state did you find them?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In what I call a pretty poor state; much as you see ’em
+there, on the table.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What has become of the young <em>lady</em> you have mentioned?”
+enquired the coroner, who, as a public functionary, deemed it
+prudent to put all of the sex into the same general category.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can’t tell you, ’squire; I never see’d her arter she was got
+out of the window.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you mean that she was the hired-girl of the family,—or
+had the old lady no help?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I kinder think she was a boarder, like; one that paid her
+keepin’,” answered the witness, who was not a person to draw
+very nice distinctions, as the reader will have no difficulty in
+conceiving, from his dialect. “It seems to me I heer’n tell of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>another help in the Goodwin family—a sorter Jarman, or Irish
+lady.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was any such woman seen about the house this morning,
+when the ruins were searched?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not as <em>I</em>’ner. We turned over the brands and sticks, until
+we come across the old folks; then everybody seemed to think
+the work was pretty much done.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In what state, or situation, were these remains found?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Burnt to a crisp, just as you see ’em, ’squire, as I said
+afore; a pretty poor state for human beings to be in.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But where were they lying, and were they near each other?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Close together. Their heads, if a body can call them black
+lookin’ skulls heads, at all, almost touched, if they didn’t quite
+touch, each other; their feet lay further apart.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you think you could place the skeletons in the same
+manner, as respects each other, as they were when you first saw
+them? But let me first enquire, if any other person is present,
+who saw these remains before they had been removed?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Several men, and one or two women, who were in attendance
+to be examined, now came forward, and stated that they had
+seen the remains in the condition in which they had been originally
+found. Selecting the most intelligent of the party, after
+questioning them all round, the coroner desired that the skeletons
+might be laid, as near as might be, in the same relative positions
+as those in which they had been found. There was a difference
+of opinion among the witnesses, as to several of the minor particulars,
+though all admitted that the bodies, or what remained
+of them, had been found quite close together; their heads touching,
+and their feet some little distance apart. In this manner
+then, were the skeletons now disposed; the arrangement being
+completed just as Dr. McBrain entered the court-room. The
+coroner immediately directed the witnesses to stand aside, while
+the physician made an examination of the crisped bones.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>“This looks like foul play!” exclaimed the doctor, almost as
+soon as his examination commenced. “The skulls of both these
+persons have been fractured; and, if this be anything near the
+positions in which the skeletons were found, as it would seem,
+by the same blow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>He then pointed out to the coroner and jury, a small fracture
+in the frontal bone of each skull, and so nearly in a line as
+to render his conjecture highly probable. This discovery gave
+an entirely new colouring to the whole occurrence, and every one
+present began to speculate on the probability of arson and murder
+being connected with the unfortunate affair. The Goodwins
+were known to have lived at their ease, and the good woman, in
+particular, had the reputation of being a little miserly. As
+everything like order vanished temporarily from the court-room,
+and tongues were going in all directions, many things were
+related that were really of a suspicious character, especially by
+the women. The coroner adjourned the investigation for the
+convenience of irregular conversation, in order to obtain useful
+clues to the succeeding enquiries.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You say that old Mrs. Goodwin had a good deal of specie?”
+enquired that functionary of a certain Mrs. Pope, a widow woman
+who had been free with her communications, and who very well
+might know more than the rest of the neighbours, from a very
+active propensity she had ever manifested, to look into the affairs
+of all around her. “Did I understand you, that you had seen
+this money yourself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir; often and often. She kept it in a stocking of the
+old gentleman’s, that was nothing but darns; so darny, like, that
+nobody could wear <a id='corr36.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='it'>it.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_36.29'><ins class='correction' title='it'>it.</ins></a></span> Miss Goodwin wasn’t a woman to put
+away anything that was of use. A clusser body wasn’t to be
+found, anywhere near Biberry.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And some of this money was gold, I think I heard you say.
+A stocking pretty well filled with gold and silver.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>“The foot was cramming full, when I saw it, and that wasn’t
+three months since. I can’t say there was any great matter in
+the leg. Yes, there was gold in it, too. She showed me the
+stocking the last time I saw it, on purpose to ask me what might
+be the valie of a piece of gold that was almost as big as half
+a dollar.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Should you know that piece of gold, were you to see it,
+again?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That I should. I didn’t know its name, or its valie, for I
+never seed so big a piece afore, but I told Miss Goodwin I
+thought it must be ra’al Californy. Them’s about now, they
+tell me, and I hope poor folks will come in for their share. Old
+as I am—that is, not so very old neither—but such as I am, I
+never had a piece of gold in my life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You cannot tell, then, the name of this particular coin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I couldn’t; if I was to have it for the telling, I couldn’t.
+It wasn’t a five dollar piece; that I know, for the old lady had
+a good many of <em>them</em>, and this was much larger, and yellower,
+too; better gold, I conclude.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The coroner was accustomed to garrulous, sight-seeing females,
+and knew how to humour them.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Where did Mrs. Goodwin keep her specie?” he enquired.
+“If you saw her put the stocking away, you must know its usual
+place of deposit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In her chest of drawers,” answered the woman eagerly.
+“That very chest of drawers which was got out of the house, as
+sound as the day it went into it, and has been brought down into
+the village for safe keeping.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this was so, and measures were taken to push the investigation
+further, and in that direction. Three or four young men,
+willing volunteers in such a cause, brought the bureau into the
+court-room, and the coroner directed that each of the drawers
+should be publicly opened, in the presence of the jurors. The
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>widow was first sworn, however, and testified regularly to the
+matter of the stocking, the money, and the place of usual deposit.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ah! you’ll not find it there,” observed Mrs. Pope, as the
+village cabinet-maker applied a key, the wards of which happened
+to fit those of the locks in question. “She kept her money in
+the lowest draw of all. I’ve seen her take the stocking out,
+first and last, at least a dozen times.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The lower draw was opened, accordingly. It contained female
+apparel, and a goodly store of such articles as were suited to the
+wants of a respectable woman in the fourth or fifth of the gradations
+into which all society so naturally, and unavoidably, divides
+itself. But there was no stocking full of darns, no silver, no
+gold. Mrs. Pope’s busy and nimble fingers were thrust hastily
+into an inner corner of the drawer, and a silk dress was unceremoniously
+opened, that having been the precise receptacle of the
+treasure as she had seen it last bestowed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s gone!” exclaimed the woman. “Somebody must have
+taken it!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A great deal was now thought to be established. The broken
+skulls, and the missing money, went near to establish a case of
+murder and robbery, in addition to the high crime of arson.
+Men, who had worn solemn and grave countenances all that
+morning, now looked excited and earnest. The desire for a
+requiting justice was general and active, and the dead became
+doubly dear, by means of their wrongs.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this time Dr. McBrain had been attending, exclusively, to
+the part of the subject that most referred to his own profession.
+Of the fractures in the two skulls, he was well assured, though
+the appearance of the remains was such as almost to baffle investigation.
+Of another important fact he was less certain. While
+all he heard prepared him to meet with the skeletons of a man
+and his wife, so far as he could judge, in the imperfect state in
+which they were laid before him, the bones were those of two
+females.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>“Did you know this Mr. Goodwin, Mr. Coroner?” enquired
+the physician, breaking into the more regular examination with
+very little ceremony; “or was he well known to any here?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The coroner had no very accurate knowledge of the deceased,
+though every one of the jurors had been well acquainted with
+him. Several had known him all their lives.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was he a man of ordinary size?” asked the doctor.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very small. Not taller than his wife, who might be set
+down as quite a tall old lady.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It often happens in Europe, especially in England, that the
+man and his wife are so nearly of a height as to leave very little
+sensible difference in their statures; but it is a rare occurrence
+in this country. In America, the female is usually delicate, and
+of a comparatively small frame, while the average height of man
+is something beyond that of the European standard. It was a
+little out of the common way, therefore, to meet with a couple
+so nearly of a size, as these remains would make Goodwin and
+his wife to have been.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“These skeletons are very nearly of the same length,” resumed
+the doctor, after measuring them for the fifth time. “The
+man could not have been much, if any, taller than his wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He was not,” answered a juror. “Old Peter Goodwin
+could not have been more than five feet five, and Dorothy was all
+of that, I should think. When they came to meeting together,
+they looked much of a muchness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Now, there is nothing on which a prudent and regular physician
+is more cautious than in committing himself on unknown
+and uncertain ground. He has his theories, and his standard
+of opinions, usually well settled in his mind, and he is ever on
+the alert to protect and bolster them; seldom making any admission
+that may contravene either. He is apt to denounce the
+water cure, however surprising may have been its effects; and
+there is commonly but one of the “opathies” to which he is in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>the least disposed to defer, and that is the particular “opathy”
+on which he has moulded his practice. As for Dr. McBrain, he
+belonged strictly to the alapathic school, and might be termed
+almost an ultra in his adherence to its laws, while the number
+of the new schools that were springing up around him, taught
+him caution, as well as great prudence, in the expression of his
+<a id='corr40.7'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='opinions'>opinions.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_40.7'><ins class='correction' title='opinions'>opinions.</ins></a></span> Give him a patient, and he went to work boldly, and
+with the decision and nerve of a physician accustomed to practise
+in an exaggerated climate; but place him before the public, as a
+theoretical man, and he was timid and wary. His friend Dunscomb
+had observed this peculiarity, thirty years before the commencement
+of our tale, and had quite recently told him, “You
+are bold in the only thing in which I am timid, Ned, and that
+is in making up to the women. If Mrs. Updyke were a newfangled
+theory, now, instead of an old-fashioned widow, as she
+is, hang me if I think you would have ever had the spirit to
+propose.” This peculiarity of temperament, and, perhaps, we
+might add of character, rendered Dr. McBrain, now, very averse
+to saying, in the face of so much probability, and the statements
+of so many witnesses, that the mutilated and charred skeletons
+that lay on the court-house table were those of two females, and
+not those of a man and his wife. It was certainly possible he
+might be mistaken; for the conflagration had made sad work of
+these poor emblems of mortality; but science has a clear eye,
+and the doctor was a skilful and practised anatomist. In his
+own mind, there were very few doubts on the subject.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As soon as the thoughtful physician found time to turn his
+attention on the countenances of those who composed the crowd
+in the court-room, he observed that nearly all eyes were bent on
+the person of one particular female, who sat apart, and was
+seemingly labouring under a shock of some sort or other, that
+materially affected her nerves. McBrain saw, at a glance, that
+this person belonged to a class every way superior to that of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>even the highest of those who pressed around the table. The
+face was concealed in a handkerchief, but the form was not only
+youthful but highly attractive. Small, delicate hands and feet
+could be seen; such hands and feet as we are all accustomed to
+see in an American girl, who has been delicately brought up.
+Her dress was simple, and of studied modesty; but there was
+an air about <em>that</em>, which a little surprised the kind-hearted
+individual, who was now so closely observing her.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The doctor had little difficulty in learning from those near
+him that this “young woman,” so all in the crowd styled <em>her</em>,
+though it was their practice to term most girls, however humble
+their condition, “ladies,” had been residing with the Goodwins
+for a few weeks, in the character of a boarder, as some asserted,
+while others affirmed it was as a <em>friend</em>. At all events, there
+was a mystery about her; and most of the girls of Biberry had
+called her proud, because she did not join in their frivolities,
+flirtations and visits. It was true, no one had ever thought of
+discharging the duties of social life by calling on <em>her</em>, or in
+making the advances usual to well-bred people; but this makes
+little difference where there is a secret consciousness of inferiority,
+and of an inferiority that is felt, while it is denied. Such things
+are of every-day occurrence, in country-life in particular, while
+American town-life is far from being exempt from the weakness.
+In older countries, the laws of society are better respected.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was now plain that the blight of suspicion had fallen on
+this unknown, and seemingly friendless girl. If the fire had
+been communicated intentionally, who so likely to be guilty as
+she? if the money was gone, who had so many means of securing
+it as herself? These were questions that passed from one to
+another, until distrust gathered so much head, that the coroner
+deemed it expedient to adjourn the inquest, while the proof
+might be collected, and offered in proper form.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dr. McBrain was, by nature, kind-hearted; then he could not
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>easily get over that stubborn scientific fact, of both the skeletons
+having belonged to females. It is true that, admitting this to
+be the case, it threw very little light on the matter, and in no
+degree lessened any grounds of suspicion that might properly
+rest on the “young woman”; but it separated him from the
+throng, and placed his mind in a sort of middle condition, in
+which he fancied it might be prudent, as well as charitable, to
+doubt. Perceiving that the crowd was dispersing, though not
+without much animated discussion in under tones, and that the
+subject of all this conversation still remained in her solitary
+corner, apparently unconscious of what was going on, the worthy
+doctor approached the immovable figure, and spoke.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have come here as a witness, I presume,” he said, in a
+gentle tone; “if so, your attendance just now will no longer be
+necessary, the coroner having adjourned the inquest until to-morrow
+afternoon.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At the first sound of his voice, the solitary female removed a
+fine cambric handkerchief from her face, and permitted her new
+companion to look upon it. We shall say nothing, here, touching
+that countenance or any other personal peculiarity, as a sufficiently
+minute description will be given in the next chapter,
+through the communications made by Dr. McBrain to Dunscomb.
+Thanking her informant for his information, and exchanging
+a few brief sentences on the melancholy business which
+had brought both there, the young woman arose, made a slight
+but very graceful inclination of her body, and withdrew.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dr. McBrain’s purpose was made up on the spot. He saw
+very plainly that a fierce current of suspicion was setting against
+this pleasing, and, as it seemed to him, friendless young creature;
+and he determined at once to hasten back to town, and get his
+friend to go out to Biberry, without a moment’s delay, that he
+might appear there that very afternoon in the character of
+counsel to the helpless.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“I am informed thoroughly of the cause.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?”</div>
+ <div class='line in24'><cite>Merchant of Venice.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>Such was the substance of the communication that Doctor
+McBrain now made to his friend, Tom Dunscomb. The latter
+had listened with an interest he did not care to betray, and when
+the other was done he gaily cried—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll tell the widow Updyke of you, Ned!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She knows the whole story already, and is very anxious lest
+you should have left town, to go to the Rockland circuit, where
+she has been told you have an important case to try.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The cause goes over on account of the opposite counsel’s
+being in the court of appeals. Ah’s me! I have no pleasure in
+managing a cause since this Code of Procedure has innovated on
+all our comfortable and venerable modes of doing business. I
+believe I shall close up my affairs, and retire, as soon as I can
+bring all my old cases to a termination.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If you <em>can</em> bring those old cases to a termination, you will
+be the first lawyer who ever did.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, it is true, Ned,” answered Dunscomb, coolly taking a
+pinch of snuff, “you doctors <em>have</em> the advantage of us, in this
+behalf; <em>your cases</em> certainly do not last for ever.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Enough of this, Tom—you will go to Biberry, I take it for
+granted?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>“You have forgotten the fee. Under the new code, compensation
+is a matter of previous agreement.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You shall have a pleasant excursion, over good roads, in the
+month of May, in an easy carriage, and drawn by a pair of as
+spirited horses as ever trotted on the Third Avenue.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The animals you have just purchased in honour of Mrs.
+Updyke that is—Mrs. McBrain that is to be—” touching tho
+bell, and adding to the very respectable black who immediately
+answered the summons, “Tell Master Jack and Miss Sarah I
+wish to see them. So, Ned, you have let the widow know all
+about it, and she does not pout or look distrustful—that is a
+good symptom, at least.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I would not marry a jealous woman, if I never had a wife!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then you will never marry at all. Why, Dr. McBrain, it
+is in the nature of woman to be distrustful—to be jealous—to
+fancy things that are merely figments of the brain.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You know nothing about them, and would be wisest to be
+silent—but here are the young people already, to ask your
+pleasure.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sarah, my dear,” resumed the uncle in a kind and affectionate
+tone of voice, one that the old bachelor almost universally
+held towards that particular relative, “I must give you a
+little trouble. Go into my room, child, and put up, in my smallest
+travelling bag, a clean shirt, a handkerchief or two, three or
+four collars, and a change all round, for a short expedition into
+the country.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Country! Do you quit us to-day, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Within an hour, at latest,” looking at his watch. “If we
+leave the door at ten, we can reach Biberry before the inquest
+reassembles. You told those capital beasts of yours, Ned, to
+come here?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I told Stephen to give them a hint to that effect. You may
+rely on their punctuality.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>“Jack, you had better be of our party. I go on some legal
+business of importance, and it may be well for you to go along,
+in order to pick up an idea, or two.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And why not Michael also, sir? He has as much need of
+ideas as I have myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A pretty general laugh succeeded, though Sarah, who was just
+quitting the room, did not join in it. She rather looked grave,
+as well as a little anxiously towards the last-named neophyte of
+the law.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Shall we want any books, sir?” demanded the nephew.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, yes—we will take the Code of Procedure. One can
+no more move without <em>that</em>, just now, than he can travel in some
+countries without a passport. Yes, put up the code, Jack, and
+we’ll pick it to pieces as we trot along.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There is little need of that, sir, if what they say be true. I
+hear, from all quarters, that it is doing that for itself, on a
+gallop.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Shame on thee, lad—I have half a mind to banish thee to
+Philadelphia! But put up the code; thy joke can’t be worse
+than that joke. As for Michael, he can accompany us if he
+wish it; but you must both be ready by ten. At ten, precisely,
+we quit my door, in the chariot of Phœbus, eh, Ned?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Call it what you please, so you do but go. Be active, young
+gentlemen, for we have no time to throw away. The jury meet
+again at two, and we have several hours of road before us. I
+will run round and look at my slate, and be here by the time
+you are <a id='corr45.27'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='ready.'>ready.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_45.27'><ins class='correction' title='ready.'>ready.”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>On this suggestion everybody was set in active motion. John
+went for his books, and to fill a small rubber bag for himself;
+Michael did the same, and Sarah was busy in her uncle’s <a id='corr45.30'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='room'>room.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_45.30'><ins class='correction' title='room'>room.</ins></a></span>
+As for Dunscomb, he made the necessary disposition of some
+papers, wrote two or three notes, and held himself at the command
+of his friend. This affair was just the sort of professional
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>business in which he liked to be engaged. Not that he had any
+sympathy with crime, for he was strongly averse to all communion
+with rogues; but it appeared to him, by the representations
+of the doctor, to be a mission of mercy. A solitary, young, unfriended
+female, accused, or suspected, of a most heinous crime,
+and looking around for a protector and an adviser, was an object
+too interesting for a man of his temperament to overlook, under
+the appeal that had been made. Still he was not the dupe of his
+feelings. All his coolness, sagacity, knowledge of human nature,
+and professional attainments, were just as active in him as they
+ever had been in his life. Two things he understood well: that
+we are much too often deceived by outward signs, mistaking
+character by means of a fair exterior, and studied words, and
+that neither youth, beauty, sex, nor personal graces were infallible
+preventives of the worst offences, on the one hand; and that,
+on the other, men nurture distrust, and suspicion, often, until it
+grows too large to be concealed, by means of their own propensity
+to feed the imagination and to exaggerate. Against these two
+weaknesses he was now resolved to arm himself; and when the
+whole party drove from the door, our counsellor was as clear-headed
+and impartial, according to his own notion of the matter,
+as if he were a judge.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>By this time the young men had obtained a general notion of
+the business they were on, and the very first subject that was
+started, on quitting the door, was in a question put by John
+Wilmeter, in continuation of a discussion that had been commenced
+between himself and his friend.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mike and I have a little difference of opinion, on a point
+connected with this matter, which I could wish you to settle for
+us, as an arbiter. On the supposition that you find reason to
+believe that this young woman has really committed these horrible
+crimes, what would be your duty in the case—to continue
+to befriend her, and advise her, and use your experience and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>talents in order to shield her against the penalties of the law, or
+to abandon her at once?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In plain English, Jack, you and your brother student wish
+to know whether I am to act as a palladium, or as a runagate, in
+this affair. As neophytes in your craft, it may be well to suggest
+to you, in the first place, that I have not yet been fee’d. I
+never knew a lawyer’s conscience trouble him about questions in
+casuistry, until he had received something down.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But you can suppose that something paid, in this case, sir,
+and then answer our question.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is just the case in which I can suppose nothing of the
+sort. Had McBrain given me to understand I was to meet a
+client, with a well-lined purse, who was accused of arson and
+murder, I would have seen him married to two women, at the
+same time, before I would have budged. It’s the want of a fee
+that takes me out of town, this morning.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And the same want, I trust, sir, will stimulate you to solve
+our difficulty.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The uncle laughed, and nodded his head, much as if he would
+say, “Pretty well for <em>you</em>;” then he gave a thought to the point
+in professional ethics that had started up between his two
+students.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is a very old question with the profession, gentlemen,”
+Dunscomb answered, a little more gravely. “You will find
+men who maintain that the lawyer has, morally, a right to do
+whatever his client would do; that he puts himself in the place
+of the man he defends, and is expected to do everything precisely
+as if he were the accused party himself. I rather think
+that some vague notion, quite as loose as this, prevails pretty
+generally among what one may call the minor moralists of the
+profession.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I confess, sir, that I have been given to understand that
+some such rule <em>ought</em> to govern our conduct,” said Michael Millington,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>who had been in Dunscomb’s office only for the last six
+months.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then you have been very loosely and badly instructed in the
+duties of an advocate, Mr. Michael. A more pernicious doctrine
+was never broached, or one better suited to make men scoundrels.
+Let a young man begin practice with such notions, and two or
+three thieves for clients will prepare him to commit petit larceny,
+and a case or two of perjury would render him an exquisite at
+an affidavit. No, my boys, here is your rule in this matter:
+an advocate has a <em>right</em> to do whatever his client has a <em>right</em> to
+do—not what his client <em>would</em> do.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Surely, sir, an advocate is justified in telling his client to
+plead not guilty, though guilty; and in aiding him to persuade
+a jury to acquit him, though satisfied himself he ought to be
+convicted!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have got hold of the great point in the case, Jack, and
+one on which something may be said on both sides. The law is
+so indulgent, as to permit an accused who has formally pleaded
+‘guilty,’ thus making a distinct admission of his crime, to withdraw
+that plea, and put in another of ‘not guilty.’ Now, had
+the same person made a similar admission <em>out</em> of court, and under
+circumstances that put threats or promises out of the question,
+the law would have accepted <em>that</em> admission as the best possible
+evidence of his guilt. It is evident, therefore, that an understanding
+exists, to which the justice of the country is a party,
+that a man, though guilty, shall get himself out of the scrape, if
+he can do so by legal means. No more importance is attached
+to the ‘not guilty,’ than to the ‘not at home’ to a visitor; it
+being understood, by general convention, that neither means anything.
+Some persons are so squeamish, as to cause their servants
+to say ‘they are engaged,’ by way of not telling a lie;
+but a lie consists in the intentional deception, and ‘not in’ and
+‘not guilty’ mean no more, in the one case, than ‘you can’t see
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>my master,’ and in the other, than ‘I’ll run the chances of a
+trial.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“After all, sir, this is going pretty near the wind, in the way
+of morals.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It certainly is. The Christian man who has committed a
+crime, ought not to attempt to deny it to his country, as he certainly
+cannot to his God. Yet, nine hundred and ninety-nine
+in a thousand of the most strait-laced Christians in the community
+would so deny their guilt, if arraigned. We must not
+tax poor human nature too heavily, though I think the common
+law contains many things, originating in a jealousy of hereditary
+power, that it is great folly for us to preserve. But, while we
+are thus settling principles, we forget facts. You have told me
+nothing of your client, Ned.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What would you wish to know?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You called her young, I remember; what may be her precise
+age?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is more than I know; somewhere between sixteen and
+five-and-twenty.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Five-and-twenty! Is she as old as that?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I rather think not; but I have been thinking much of her
+this morning, and I really do not remember to have seen another
+human being who is so difficult to describe.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She has eyes, of course?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Two—and very expressive they are; though, sworn, I could
+not tell their colour.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And hair?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In very great profusion; so much of it, and so very fine and
+shining, that it was the first thing about her person which I observed.
+But I have not the least notion of its colour.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was it red?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No; nor yellow, nor golden, nor black, nor brown,—and yet
+a little of all blended together, I should say.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>“Ned, I’ll tell the Widow Updyke of thee, thou rogue!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Tell her, and welcome. She has asked me all these questions
+herself, this very morning.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh, she has, has she? Umph! Woman never changes her
+nature. You cannot say anything about the eyes, beyond the
+fact of their being very expressive?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And pleasing; more than that, even—engaging; winning, is
+a better term.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ned, you dog, you have never told the widow one-half!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Every syllable. I even went farther, and declared I had
+never beheld a countenance that, in so short an interview, made
+so deep an impression on me. If I were not to see this young
+woman again, I should never forget the expression of her face—so
+spirited, so sad, so gentle, so feminine, and so very intelligent.
+It seemed to me to be what I should call an illuminated countenance.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Handsome?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not unusually so, among our sweet American girls, except
+through the expression. That was really wonderful; though,
+you will remember, I saw her under very peculiar circumstances.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh, exceedingly peculiar. Dear old soul; what a thump she
+has given him! How were her mouth and her teeth?—complexion,
+stature, figure, and smile?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can tell you little of all these. Her teeth are fine; for she
+gave me a faint smile, such as a lady is apt to give a man in
+quitting him, and I saw just enough of the teeth to know that
+they are exceedingly fine. You smile, young gentlemen; but <em>you</em>
+may have a care for your hearts, in good truth; for if this strange
+girl interests either of you one-half as much as she has interested
+me, she will be either Mrs. John Wilmeter, or Mrs. Michael
+Millington, within a twelvemonth.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Michael looked very sure that she would never fill the last
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>situation, which was already bespoke for Miss Sarah Wilmeter;
+and as for Jack, he laughed outright.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We’ll tell Mrs. Updyke of him, when we get back, and break
+off that affair, at least,” cried the uncle, winking at the nephew,
+but in a way his friend should see him; “then there will be one
+marriage the less in the world.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But is she a lady, doctor?” demanded John, after a short
+pause. “My wife must have some trifling claims in that way, I
+can assure you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As for family, education, association and fortune, I can say
+nothing,—I know nothing. Yet will I take upon myself to
+say she <em>is</em> a lady,—and that, in the strict signification of the
+term.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are not serious now, Ned!” exclaimed the counsellor,
+quickly. “Not a <em>bony fide</em>, as some of our gentlemen have it?
+You cannot mean <em>exactly</em> what you say.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do, though; and that literally.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And she suspected of arson and murder! Where are her
+connections and friends,—those who made her a lady? Why
+is she there alone, and, as you say, unfriended?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So it seemed to me. You might as well ask me why she
+is there, at all. I know nothing of all this. I heard plenty
+of reasons in the street, why she ought to be distrusted,—nay,
+convicted; for the feeling against her had got to be intense, before
+I left Biberry; but no one could tell me whence she came,
+or why she was there.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you learn her name?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; that was in every mouth, and I could not help hearing
+it. She was called Mary Monson by the people of Biberry—but
+I much doubt if that be her real name.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So, your angel in disguise will have to be tried under an
+<a id='corr51.32'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='alias!’'>‘alias!’</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_51.32'><ins class='correction' title='alias!’'>‘alias!’</ins></a></span> That is not much in her favour, Ned. I shall ask no
+more questions, but wait patiently to see and judge for myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>The young men put a few more interrogatories, which were
+civilly answered, and then the subject was dropped. Well it has
+been said that “God made the country; man made the town.”
+No one feels this more than he who has been shut up between
+walls of brick and stone for many months, on his first escape into
+the open, unfettered fields and winding pleasant roads. Thus
+was it now with Dunscomb. He had not been out of town
+since the previous summer, and great was his delight at smelling
+the fragrance of the orchards, and feasting his eyes on their
+beauties. All the other charms of the season came in aid of
+these, and when the carriage drove into the long, broad, and we
+might almost say single street of Biberry, Dunscomb in particular
+was in a most tranquil and pleasant state of mind. He had
+come out to assist a friendless woman, cheerfully and without a
+thought of the sacrifice, either as to time or money, though in
+reflecting on all the circumstances he began to have his doubts
+of the wisdom of the step he had taken. Nevertheless, he preserved
+his native calmness of manner, and coolness of head.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Biberry was found to be in a state of high excitement. There
+were at least a dozen physicians collected there, all from the
+county, and five or six reporters had come from town. Rumours
+of all sorts were afloat, and Mary Monson was a name in every
+person’s mouth. She had not been arrested, however, it having
+been deemed premature for that; but she was vigilantly watched,
+and two large trunks of which she was the mistress, as well as
+an oilskin-covered box of some size, if not absolutely seized, were
+so placed that their owner had no access to them. This state of
+things, however, did not seem to give the suspected girl any
+uneasiness; she was content with what a carpet-bag contained,
+and with which she said she was comfortable. It was a question
+with the wiseacres whether she knew that she was suspected or
+<a id='corr52.32'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='not'>not.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_52.32'><ins class='correction' title='not'>not.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Had Dunscomb yielded to McBrain’s solicitations, he would
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>have gone at once to the house in which Mary Monson was now
+lodged, but he preferred adopting a different course. He thought
+it the most prudent to be a looker-on, until after the next examination,
+which was now close at hand. Wary by long habit, and
+cool by temperament, he was disposed to observe the state of
+things before he committed himself. The presence of the reporters
+annoyed him; not that he stood in any dread of the low
+tyranny that is so apt to characterize this class of men, for no
+member of the bar had held them, and the puny efforts of many
+among them to build up and take away professional character, in
+greater contempt than he had done; but he disliked to have his
+name mixed up with a cause of this magnitude, unless he had
+made up his mind to go through with it. In this temper, then,
+no communication was held with Mary Monson, until they met,
+at the hour appointed for the inquest, in the court-house.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The room was crowded, at least twice as many having collected
+on this occasion as had got together on the sudden call of the
+previous examination. Dunscomb observed that the coroner
+looked grave, like a man who felt he had important business on
+his hands, while a stern expectation was the expression common
+to nearly all the others present. He was an utter stranger, himself,
+even by sight, to every being present, his own party and
+two or three of the reporters excepted. These last no sooner
+observed him, however, than out came their little note-books, and
+the gold pens were at work, scribbling something. It was probably
+a sentence to say, “we observed among the crowd Thomas
+Dunscomb, Esquire, the well-known counsel <em>from the city</em>;” but
+Dunscomb cared very little for such vulgarisms, and continued
+passive.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As soon as the inquest was organized, the coroner directed a
+physician of the neighbourhood to be put on the stand. It had
+gone forth that a “city doctor” had intimated that neither of the
+skeletons was that of Peter Goodwin, and there was a common
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>wish to confront him with a high country authority. It was
+while the medical man now in request was sent for, that McBrain
+pointed out to Dunscomb the person of Mary Monson. She sat
+in a corner different from that she had occupied the day before,
+seemingly for the same purpose, or that of being alone. Alone
+she was not, strictly, however; a respectable-looking female, of
+middle age, being at her side. This was a Mrs. Jones, the wife
+of a clergyman, who had charitably offered the suspected young
+stranger a home under her own roof, pending the investigation.
+It was thought, generally, that Mary Monson had but very vague
+notions of the distrust that rested on her, it being a part of the
+plan of those who were exercising all their wits to detect the
+criminal, that she was first to learn this fact in open court, and
+under circumstances likely to elicit some proofs of guilt. When
+Dunscomb learned this artifice, he saw how ungenerous and unmanly
+it was, readily imagined a dozen signs of weakness that a
+female might exhibit in such a strait, that had no real connection
+with crime, and felt a strong disposition to seek an interview, and
+put the suspected party on her guard. It was too late for this,
+however, just then; and he contented himself, for the moment,
+with studying such signs of character and consciousness as his
+native sagacity and long experience enabled him to detect.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Although nothing could be more simple or unpretending than
+the attire of Mary Monson, it was clearly that of a lady. Everything
+about her denoted that station, or origin; though everything
+about her, as Dunscomb fancied, also denoted a desire to bring
+herself down, as nearly as possible, to the level of those around
+her, most probably that she might not attract particular <a id='corr34.27'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='attention'>attention.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_34.27'><ins class='correction' title='attention'>attention.</ins></a></span>
+Our lawyer did not exactly like this slight proof of management,
+and wished it were not so apparent. He could see the hands,
+feet, figure, hair, and general air of the female he was so strangely
+called on to make the subject of his investigations, but he could
+not yet see her face. The last was again covered with a cambric
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>handkerchief, the hand which held it being ungloved. It was a
+pretty little American hand; white, well-proportioned, and delicate.
+It was clear, that neither its proportions nor its colour had
+been changed by uses unsuited to its owner’s sex or years. But
+it had no ring, in this age of be-jewelled fingers. It was the left
+hand, moreover, and the fourth finger, like all the rest, had no
+ornament, or sign of matrimony. He inferred from this, that the
+stranger was unmarried; one of the last things that a wife usually
+lays aside being her wedding-ring. The foot corresponded with
+the hand, and was decidedly the smallest, best-formed, and best-decorated
+foot in Biberry. John Wilmeter thought it the
+prettiest he had ever seen. It was not studiously exhibited,
+however, but rested naturally and gracefully in its proper place.
+The figure generally, so far as a capacious shawl would allow of
+its being seen, was pleasing, graceful, and a little remarkable for
+accuracy of proportions, as well as of attire.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Once or twice Mrs. Jones spoke to her companion; and it was
+when answering some question thus put, that Dunscomb first got
+a glimpse of his intended client’s face. The handkerchief was
+partly removed, and remained so long enough to enable him to
+make a few brief observations. It was then that he felt the perfect
+justice of his friend’s description. It was an indescribable
+countenance, in all things but its effect; which was quite as
+marked on the lawyer, as it had been on the physician. But the
+arrival of Dr. Coe put an end to these observations, and drew all
+eyes on that individual, who was immediately sworn. The customary
+preliminary questions were put to this witness, <a id='corr55.27'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='respectin'>respecting</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_55.27'><ins class='correction' title='respectin'>respecting</ins></a></span>
+his profession, length of practice, residence, &c., when the examination
+turned more on the matter immediately under <a id='corr55.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='investigation'>investigation.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_55.29'><ins class='correction' title='investigation'>investigation.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You see those objects on the table, doctor?” said the coroner.
+“What do you say they are?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<span lang="la"><i>Ossa hominum</i></span>; human bones, much defaced and charred
+by <a id='corr55.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='heat'>heat.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_55.33'><ins class='correction' title='heat'>heat.</ins></a></span>”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>“Do you find any proof about them of violence committed,
+beyond the damage done by fire?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly. There is the <span lang="la"><i>os frontis</i></span> of each fractured by a
+blow; a common blow, as I should judge.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What do you mean, sir, by a common blow? An accidental,
+or an intentional blow?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By common blow, I mean that one blow did the damage to
+both <span lang="la"><i>cranys</i></span>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<i>Crany?</i>—how do you spell that word, doctor? Common
+folks get put out by foreign tongues.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Cranys, in the plural, sir. We say cran<i>ium</i>, for <em>one</em> skull, and
+crany, for two.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I wonder what he would say for numskull?” whispered John
+to Michael.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir; I understand you, now. I trust the reporters will
+get it right.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! they never make any mistakes, especially in legal proceedings,”
+quietly remarked Mr. Dunscomb to the doctor. “In
+matters of law and the constitution, they are of proof! Talk of
+letters on the constitution! What are equal to those that come
+to us, <em>hibernally</em>, as one may say, from Washington?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Hibernially would be the better word,” answered McBrain,
+in the same under tone.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You ought to know; your grandfather was an Irishman,
+Ned. But listen to this examination.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And now, Dr. Coe, have the goodness to look at those skeletons,”
+resumed the coroner, “and tell us whether they belong to
+man, woman, or child. Whether they are the remains of adults,
+or of children.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Of adults, certainly. On that point, sir, I conceive there can
+be no doubt.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And as to the sex?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should think that is equally clear. I have no doubt that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>one are the remains of Peter Goodwin, and the other those of
+his wife. Science can distinguish between the sexes, in ordinary
+cases, I allow; but this is a case in which science is at fault, for
+want of facts; and taking all the known circumstances into consideration,
+I have no hesitation in saying that, according to my
+best judgment, those are the remains of the missing man and
+woman—man and wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Am I to understand that you recognize the particular skeletons
+by any outward, visible proofs?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; there is the stature. Both of the deceased were well
+known to me; and I should say, that making the usual allowance
+for the absence of the <span lang="la"><i>musculi</i></span>, the <span lang="la"><i>pellis</i></span>, and other known substances——</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Doctor, would it be just as agreeable to you to use the common
+dialect?” demanded a shrewd-looking farmer, one of the
+jury, who appeared equally amused and vexed at this display of
+<a id='corr57.16'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='earning'>learning</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_57.16'><ins class='correction' title='earning'>learning</ins></a></span>.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly, sir—certainly, Mr. Blore; <span lang="la"><i>musculi</i></span> means muscles,
+and <span lang="la"><i>pellis</i></span> is the skin. Abstract the muscles and skin, and the
+other intermediate substances, from the bones, and the apparent
+stature would be reduced, as a matter of course. Making those
+allowances, I see in those skeletons the remains of Peter and
+Dorothy Goodwin. Of the fact, I entertain no manner of doubt.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As Dr. Coe was very sincere in what he said, he expressed
+himself somewhat earnestly. A great many eyes were turned
+triumphantly towards the stranger who had presumed to intimate
+that the bones of both the remains were those of women, when
+everybody in and about Biberry knew Peter Goodwin so well,
+and knew that his wife, if anything, was the taller of the two.
+No one in all that crowd doubted as to the fact, except McBrain
+and his friend; and the last doubted altogether on the faith of
+the doctor’s science. He had never known him mistaken, though
+often examined in court, and was aware that the bar considered
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>him one of the safest and surest witnesses they could employ in
+all cases of controverted facts.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dr. Coe’s examination proceeded.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you a direct knowledge of any of the circumstances
+connected with this fire?” demanded the coroner.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A little, perhaps. I was called to visit a patient about midnight,
+and was obliged to pass directly before the door of Goodwin’s
+house. The jury knows that it stood on a retired road, and
+that one would not be likely to meet with any person travelling
+it, so early in the morning. I did pass, however, two men, who
+were walking very fast, and in the direction of Goodwin’s. I
+could not see their faces, nor did I know them by their figures
+and movements. As I see everybody, and know almost everybody,
+hereabouts, I concluded they were strangers. About four,
+I was on my return along the same road, and as my sulky rose
+to the top of Windy Hill, I got a view of Goodwin’s house.
+The flames were just streaming out of the east end of the roof,
+and the little wing on that end of the building, in which the old
+folks slept, was in a bright blaze. The other end was not much
+injured; and I saw at an upper window the figure of a female—she
+resembled, as well as I could judge by that light, and at that
+distance, the young lady now present, and who is said to have
+occupied the chamber under the roof, in the old house, for some
+time past; though I can’t say I have ever seen her there, unless
+I saw her then, under the circumstances mentioned. The old
+people could not have been as ailing this spring as was common
+with them, as I do not remember to have been stopped by them
+once. They never were in the habit of sending for the doctor,
+but seldom let me go past the door, without calling me in.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you see any one beside the figure of the female at the
+window?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes. There were two men beneath that window, and they
+appeared to me to be speaking to, or holding some sort of communication
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>with, the female. I saw gestures, and I saw one or
+two articles thrown out of the window. My view was only for a
+minute; and when I reached the house, a considerable crowd had
+collected, and I had no opportunity to observe, particularly in a
+scene of such confusion.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was the female still at the upper window, when you reached
+the house?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No. I saw the lady now present standing near the burning
+building, and held by a man—Peter Davidson, I think it was—who
+told me she wanted to rush into the house to look for the
+old folks.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you see any efforts of that sort in her?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly. She struggled to get away from Peter, and acted
+like a person who wished to rush into the burning building.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Were the struggles natural—or might they not have been
+affected?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They might. If it was acting, it was <em>good</em> acting. I have
+seen as good, however, in my life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The doctor had a meaning manner, that said more than his
+words. He spoke very low—so low as not to be audible to those
+who sat in the farther parts of the room; which will explain the
+perfect indifference to his testimony, that was manifested by the
+subject of his remarks. An impression, however, was made on
+the jury, which was composed of men much disposed to push distrust
+to demonstration.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The coroner now thought it time to spring the principal mine,
+which had been carefully preparing during the recess in the investigation;
+and he ordered “Mary Monson” to be called—a
+witness who had been regularly summoned to attend, among the
+crowd of persons that had received similar notices.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>My deed’s upon my head! I crave the law,</div>
+ <div class='line'>The penalty and forfeit of my bond.</div>
+ <div class='line in28'><cite>Shylock.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The eyes of Dunscomb were fastened intently on the female
+stranger, as she advanced to the place occupied by the witnesses.
+Her features denoted agitation, certainly; but he saw no traces
+of guilt. It seemed so improbable, moreover, that a young woman
+of her years and appearance should be guilty of so dark an offence,
+and that for money, too, that all the chances were in favour of
+her innocence. Still, there were suspicious circumstances, out
+of all question, connected with her situation; and he was too
+much experienced in the strange and unaccountable ways of
+crime, not to be slow to form his conclusions.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The face of Mary Monson was now fully exposed; it being
+customary to cause female witnesses to remove their hats, in order
+that the jurors may observe their countenances. And what a
+countenance it was! Feminine, open, with scarce a trace of the
+ordinary passions about it, and illuminated from within, as we
+have already intimated. The girl might have been twenty, though
+she afterwards stated her age to be a little more than twenty-one—perhaps
+the most interesting period of a female’s existence.
+The features were not particularly regular, and an artist might
+have discovered various drawbacks on her beauty, if not positive
+defects; but no earthly being could have quarrelled with the
+expression. That was a mixture of intelligence, softness, spirit,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>and feminine innocence, that did not fail to produce an impression
+on a crowd which had almost settled down into a firm conviction
+of her guilt. Some even doubted, and most of those present
+thought it very strange.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The reporters began to write, casting their eyes eagerly towards
+this witness; and John Dunscomb, who sat near them, soon
+discovered that there were material discrepancies in their descriptions.
+These, however, were amicably settled by comparing
+notes; and when the accounts of that day’s examination appeared
+in the journals of the time, they were sufficiently consistent with
+each other; much more so, indeed, than with the truth in its
+severer aspects. There was no wish to mislead, probably; but
+the whole system has the capital defect of making a trade of
+news. The history of passing events comes to us sufficiently
+clouded and obscured by the most vulgar and least praiseworthy
+of all our lesser infirmities, even when left to take what may be
+termed its natural course; but, as soon as the money-getting principle
+is applied to it, facts become articles for the market, and
+go up and down, much as do other commodities, in the regular
+prices-current.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson trembled a little when sworn; but she had evidently
+braced her nerves for the trial. Women are very capable
+of self-command, even in situations as foreign to their habits as
+this, if they have time to compose themselves, and to come
+forward under the influence of resolutions deliberately formed.
+Such was probably the state of mind of this solitary and seemingly
+unfriended young woman; for, though pale as death, she
+was apparently composed. We say unfriended—Mrs. Jones,
+herself, having given all her friends to understand that she had
+invited the stranger to her house under a sense of general duty,
+and not on account of any private or particular interest she felt
+in her affairs. She was as much a stranger to her, as to every
+one else in the village.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>“Will you be so good as to tell us your name, place of ordinary
+residence, and usual occupation?” asked the coroner, in a
+dry, cold manner, though not until he had offered the witness a
+seat, in compliment to her sex.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>If the face of Mary Monson was pale the instant before, it now
+flushed to scarlet. The tint that appears in the August evening
+sky, when heat-lightning illuminates the horizon, is scarce more
+bright than that which chased the previous pallid hue from her
+cheeks. Dunscomb understood her dilemma, and interposed.
+She was equally unwilling to tell her real name, and to give a
+false one, under the solemn responsibility of an oath. There is,
+probably, less of deliberate, calculated false-swearing, than of any
+other offence against justice; few having the nerve, or the moral
+obtuseness, that is necessary to perjury. We do not mean by
+this, that all which legal witnesses say is true, or the half of it;
+for ignorance, dull imaginations working out solutions of half-comprehended
+propositions, and the strong propensity we all feel
+to see things as we have expected to find them, in a measure
+disqualifies fully half of those on whom the law has devolved a
+most important duty, to discharge it with due intelligence and
+impartiality.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As a member of the bar, I interfere in behalf of the witness,”
+said Dunscomb, rising. “She is evidently unacquainted
+with her true position here, and consequently with her rights.
+Jack, get a glass of water for the young lady;” and never did
+Jack obey a request of his uncle with greater alacrity. “A
+witness cannot, with propriety, be treated as a criminal, or
+one suspected, without being apprised that the law does not
+require of those thus circumstanced, answers affecting themselves.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb had listened more to his feelings than to his legal
+knowledge, in offering this objection, inasmuch as no very searching
+question had, as yet, been put to Mary Monson. This the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>coroner saw, and he did not fail to let it be understood that he
+was aware of the weakness of the objection.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Coroners are not governed by precisely the same rules as
+ordinary committing magistrates,” he quietly observed, “though
+we equally respect the rules of evidence. No witness is obliged
+to answer a question before an inquest, that will criminate himself,
+any more than at the Oyer and Terminer. If the lady will
+say she does not wish to tell her real name, <em>because it may criminate
+her</em>, I shall not press the question myself, or allow it to
+be pressed by others.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true, sir; but the law requires, in these preliminary
+proceedings, no more than such accuracy as is convenient in
+making out the records. I conceive that in this particular case
+the question might be varied by asking, ‘You are known by the
+name of Mary Monson, I believe?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What great harm can it be to this young female to give her
+real name, Mr. Dunscomb, as I understand you are that distinguished
+counsellor, if she be perfectly innocent of the death of
+the Goodwins?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A perfectly innocent person may have good reasons for wishing
+to conceal her name. These reasons obtain additional force
+when we look around us, and see a committee of reporters, who
+stand ready to transmit all that passes to the press;—but, it
+might better serve the ends of justice to allow me to confer with
+the witness in private.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“With all my heart, sir. Take her into one of the jury
+rooms, and I will put another physician on the stand. When
+you are through with your consultation, Mr. Dunscomb, we
+shall be ready to proceed with your client.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb offered his arm to the girl, and led her through the
+crowd, while a third medical man was sworn. This witness corroborated
+all of Dr. Coe’s opinions, treating the supposition that
+both the skeletons were those of women with very little respect.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>It must be admitted that the suspected stranger lost a great deal
+of ground in the course of that half-hour. In the first place, the
+discussion about the name was received very much as an admission
+of guilt; for Dunscomb’s argument that persons who were
+innocent might have many reasons for concealing their names,
+did not carry much weight with the good people of Biberry.
+Then any doubts which might have been raised by McBrain’s
+suggestion concerning the nature of the skeletons, were effectually
+removed by the corroborating testimony of Dr. Short, who so
+fully sustained Dr. Coe. So much are the Americans accustomed
+to refer the decision of nearly all questions to numbers,
+it scarcely exaggerates the truth to say that, on the stand, the
+opinion of half-a-dozen country surveyors touching a problem
+in geometry, would be very apt to overshadow that of a professor
+from West Point, or old Yale. Majorities are the primum
+mobile of the common mind, and he who can get the greatest
+number on his side is very apt to be considered right, and to
+reap the benefits of being so.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A fourth and a fifth medical man were examined, and they
+concurred in the opinions of Dr. Coe and his neighbours. All
+gave it as the result of their enquiries, that they believed the
+two skulls had been broken with the same instrument, and that
+the blow, if it did not cause immediate death, must have had the
+effect to destroy consciousness. As regards the sex, the answers
+were given in a tone somewhat supercilious.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Science is a very good thing in its place,” observed one of
+these last witnesses; “but science is subject to known facts
+We all know that Peter Goodwin and his wife lived in that
+house; we all know that Dorothy Goodwin was a large woman,
+and that Peter Goodwin was a small man,—that they were about
+of a height, in fact,—and that these skeletons very accurately
+represent their respective statures. We also know that the house
+is burnt, that the old couple are missing, that these bones were
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>found in a wing in which they slept, and that no other bones
+have been found there. Now, to my judgment, these facts carry
+as much weight, ay, even more weight, than any scientific reasoning
+in the premises. I conclude, therefore, that these are the
+remains of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin—have no doubt that
+they are, indeed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Am I permitted to ask this witness a question, Mr. Coroner?”
+demanded Dr. McBrain.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“With all my heart, sir. The jury wishes to ascertain all
+they can, and our sole object is justice. Our inquests are not
+very rigid as to forms, and you are welcome to examine the witness
+as much as you please.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You knew Goodwin?” asked McBrain, directly of the
+witness.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did, sir; quite well.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Had he all his teeth, as you remember?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think he had.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“On the supposition that his front upper teeth were all gone,
+and that the skeleton you suppose to be his <em>had</em> all the front
+upper teeth, would you still regard the facts you have mentioned
+as better, or even as good proof, as the evidence of science, which
+tells us that the man who has lost his teeth cannot possess them?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I scarcely call that a scientific fact, at all, sir. Any one may
+judge of that circumstance, as well as a physician. If it were as
+you say, I should consider the presence of the teeth pretty good
+proof that the skeleton was that of some other person, unless the
+teeth were the work of a dentist.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then why not put any other equally sure anatomical fact in
+opposition to what is generally supposed, in connection with the
+wing, the presence of the men, and all the other circumstances
+you have mentioned?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If there were any other sure anatomical fact, so I would.
+But, in the condition in which those remains are, I do not think
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>the best anatomist could say that he can distinguish whether
+they belonged to a man or to a woman.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I confess that the case has its difficulties,” McBrain quietly
+answered. “Still I incline to my first opinion. I trust, Mr.
+Coroner, that the skeletons will be carefully preserved, so long
+as there may be any reason to continue these legal enquiries?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly, sir. A box is made for that purpose, and they
+will be carefully deposited in it, as soon as the inquest adjourns
+for the day. It is no unusual thing, gentlemen, for doctors to
+disagree.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was said with a smile, and had the effect to keep the
+peace. McBrain, however, had all the modesty of knowledge,
+and was never disposed to show off his superior attainments in
+the faces of those who might be supposed to know less than
+himself. Nor was he, by any means, certain of his fact; though
+greatly inclined to believe that both the skeletons were those of
+females. The heat had been so powerful as to derange, in some
+measure, if not entirely to deface, his proofs; and he was not a
+man to press a fact, in a case of this magnitude, without sufficient
+justification. All he now wanted, was to reserve a point that
+might have a material influence hereafter, in coming to a correct
+conclusion.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was fully an hour before Dunscomb returned, bringing
+Mary Monson on his arm. John followed the latter closely, for,
+though not admitted to the room in which this long private conference
+had been held, he had not ceased to pace the gallery in
+front of its door during the whole time. Dunscomb looked very
+grave, and, as McBrain thought, and he was very expert in interpreting
+the language of his friend’s countenance, disappointed.
+The girl herself had evidently been weeping, and that violently.
+There was a paleness of the face, and a tremor in the frame, too,
+that caused the observant physician to suppose that, for the first
+time, she had been made to comprehend that she was the object
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>of such dire distrust. No sooner were the two in their old seats,
+than the coroner prepared to renew the suspended examination.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Witness,” repeated that functionary with marked formality,
+“what is your name?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The answer was given in a tremulous voice, but with sufficient
+readiness, as if previously prepared.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am known, in and around Biberry, by the name of Mary
+Monson.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The coroner paused, passed a hand over his brow, mused a
+moment, and abandoned a half-formed determination he had
+made, to push this particular enquiry as far as he could. To
+state the truth, he was a little afraid of Mr. Thomas Dunscomb,
+whose reputation at the bar was of too high a character to have
+escaped his notice. On the whole, therefore, he decided to
+accept the name of Mary Monson, reserving the right of the state
+to enquire further, hereafter.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Where do you reside?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“At present, in this place—lately, in the family of Peter
+Goodwin, whose remains are supposed to be in this room.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How long had you resided in that family?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nine weeks, to a day. I arrived in the morning, and the
+fire occurred at night.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Relate all that you know concerning that fire, if you please,
+Miss—I call you Miss, supposing you to be unmarried?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson merely made a slight inclination of her head, as
+one acknowledges that a remark is heard and understood. This
+did not more than half satisfy the coroner, his wife, for reasons
+of her own, having particularly desired him to ask the “Monson
+girl,” when she was put on the stand, whether she was or was
+not married. But it was too late, just then, to ascertain this interesting fact,
+and the examination proceeded.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Relate all that you know concerning the fire, if you please,
+ma’am.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>“I know very little. I was awakened by a bright light—arose,
+and dressed myself as well as I could, and was about to descend
+the stairs, when I found I was too late. I then went to a window,
+and intended to throw my bed out, and let myself down
+on it, when two men appeared, and raised a ladder, by which I
+got safely out.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Were any of your effects saved?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All, I believe. The same two persons entered my room, and
+passed my trunks, box, and carpet-bag, writing-desk, and other
+articles, out of the room, as well as most of its furniture. It was
+the part of the building last on fire, and it was safe entering the
+room I occupied, for near half an hour after I escaped.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How long had you known the Goodwins?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“From the time when I first came to live in their house.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you pass the evening of the night of the fire in their
+company?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did not. Very little of my time was passed in their company,
+unless it was at meals.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This answer caused a little stir among the audience, of whom
+much the larger portion thought it contained an admission to be
+noted. Why should not a young woman who lived in a house
+so much apart from a general neighbourhood, not pass most of
+her time in the company of those with whom she dwelt? “If
+they were good enough to live with, I should think they might
+be good enough to associate with,” whispered one of the most
+active female talkers of Biberry, but in a tone so loud as to be
+heard by all near her.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was merely yielding to a national and increasing susceptibility
+to personal claims; it being commonly thought aristocratic
+to refuse to associate with everybody, when the person subject
+to remark has any apparent advantages to render such association
+desirable. All others may do as they please.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You did not, then, make one of the family regularly, but
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>were there for some particular purpose of your own?” resumed
+the coroner.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think, sir, on reflection, that you will see this examination
+is taking a very irregular course,” interposed Dunscomb. “It
+is more like an investigation for a commitment, than an inquest.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The law allows the freest modes of enquiry in all such cases,
+<a id='corr69.7'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mr'>Mr.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_69.7'><ins class='correction' title='Mr'>Mr.</ins></a></span> Dunscomb. Recollect, sir, there have been arson and murder—two
+of the highest crimes known to the books.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not forget it; and recognise not only all your rights,
+sir, but your duties. Nevertheless, this young lady has rights,
+too, and is to be treated distinctly in one of two characters; as a
+witness, or as a party accused. If in the latter, I shall at once
+advise her to answer no more questions in this state of the case.
+My duty, as her counsel, requires me to say as much.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She has, then, regularly retained you, Mr. Dunscomb?” the
+coroner asked, with interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That, sir, is a matter between her and myself. I appear
+here as counsel, and shall claim the rights of one. I know that
+you can carry on this inquest without my interference, if you see
+fit; but no one can exclude the citizen from the benefit of advice.
+Even the new code, as extravagant and high-flying an invention as
+ever came from the misguided ingenuity of man, will allow of this.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There is no wish, Mr. Dunscomb, to put any obstacles in
+your way. Let every man do his whole duty. Your client can
+certainly refuse to answer any questions she may please, on the
+ground that the answer may tend to criminate herself; and so
+may any one else.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I beg your pardon, sir; the law is still more indulgent in
+these preliminary proceedings. A party who knows himself to
+be suspected, has a right to evade questions that may militate
+against his interests; else would the boasted protection which
+the law so far throws around every one, that he need not be his
+own accuser, become a mere pretence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>“I shall endeavour to put my questions in such a way, as to
+give her the benefit of all her rights. Miss Monson, it is said
+that you have been seen, since the fire, to have some gold in your
+possession; have you any objection to let that gold be seen by
+the jury?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“None in the world, sir. I have a few gold pieces—here
+they are, in my purse. They do not amount to much, either in
+numbers or value. You are at liberty to examine them as much
+as you please.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb had betrayed a little uneasiness at this question;
+but the calm, steady manner in which the young woman answered,
+and the coolness with which she put her purse into the
+coroner’s hand, reassured, or rather surprised him. He remained
+silent, therefore, interposing no objection to the examination.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Here are seven half-eagles, two quarter-eagles, and a strange
+coin that I do not remember ever to have seen before,” said the
+coroner. “What do you call this piece, Mr. Dunscomb?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I cannot tell you, sir; I do not remember ever to have seen
+the coin before, myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is an Italian coin, of the value of about twenty dollars,
+they tell me,” answered Mary, quietly. “I think it is called
+after the reigning sovereign, whoever he may be. I got it, in
+exchange for some of our own money, from an emigrant from
+Europe, and kept it as a thing a little out of the common way.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The simplicity, distinctness, not to say nerve, with which this
+was said, placed Dunscomb still more at his ease, and he now
+freely let the enquiry take its course. All this did not prevent
+his being astonished that one so young, and seemingly so friendless,
+should manifest so much coolness and self-possession, under
+circumstances so very trying. Such was the fact, however; and
+he was fain to await further developments, in order better to comprehend
+the character of his client.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is Mrs. Pope present?” enquired the coroner. “The lady
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>who told us yesterday she had seen the specie of the late Mrs.
+Goodwin, during the life-time of the latter?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was almost <a id='corr71.3'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='superflous'>superfluous</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_71.3'><ins class='correction' title='superflous'>superfluous</ins></a></span> to ask if any particular person were
+present, as nearly all Biberry were in, or about, the court-house.
+Up started the widow, therefore, at this appeal, and coming forward
+with alacrity, she was immediately sworn, which she had
+not been the previous day, and went on the stand as a regular
+witness.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Your name?” observed the coroner.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Abigail Pope—folks write ‘relict of John Pope, deceased,’
+in all my law papers.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very well, Mrs. Pope; the simple name will suffice for the
+present purposes. Do you reside in this neighbourhood?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In Biberry. I was born, brought up, married, became a
+widow, and still dwell, all within half-a-mile of this spot. My
+maiden name was Dickson.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Absurd and forward as these answers may seem to most persons,
+they had an effect on the investigation that was then going
+on in Biberry. Most of the audience saw, and felt, the difference
+between the frank statements of the present witness, and the
+reserve manifested by the last.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Now, why couldn’t that Mary Monson answer all these
+questions, just as well as Abigail Pope?” said one female talker
+to a knot of listeners. “She has a glib enough tongue in her
+head, if she only sees fit to use it! I’ll engage no one can answer
+more readily, when she wishes to let a thing out. There’s
+a dreadful history behind the curtain, in my judgment, about
+that same young woman, could a body only get at it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Sanford <em>will</em> get at it, before he has done with her, I’ll
+engage,” answered a friend. “I have heard it said he is the
+most investigating coroner in the state, when he sets about a case
+in good earnest. He’ll be very apt to make the most of this,
+for we never have had anything one-half so exciting in Biberry,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>as these murders! I have long thought we were rather out of
+the way of the rest of the world, until now; but our time has
+come, and we shan’t very soon hear the last of it!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s all in the papers, already!” exclaimed a third. “Biberry
+looks as grand as York, or Albany, in the columns of every
+paper from town, this morning! I declare it did me good to see
+our little place holding up its head among the great of the earth,
+as it might be——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>What else, in the way of local patriotism, may have escaped
+this individual, cannot now be known, the coroner drawing off
+her auditors, by the question next put to the widow.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you ever see any gold coins in the possession of the late
+Mrs. Goodwin?” asked that functionary.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Several times—I don’t know but I might say often. Five
+or six times, at least. I used to sew for the old lady, and you
+know how it is when a body works, in that way, in a family—it’s
+next thing, I do suppose, to being a doctor, so far as secrets go.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Should you know any of that coin were you to see it again,
+Mrs. Pope?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think I might. There’s one piece, in partic’lar, that I
+suppose I should know, anywhere. It’s a wonderful looking
+piece of money, and true Californy, I conclude.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did any of Mrs. Goodwin’s gold coins bear a resemblance to
+this?” showing a <a id='corr72.24'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='half-eagle.”'>half-eagle.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_72.24'><ins class='correction' title='half-eagle.”'>half-eagle.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir—that’s a five-dollar piece—I’ve had one of them
+myself, in the course of my life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Goodwin had coins similar to this, I then understand
+you to say?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She had as many as fifty, I should think. Altogether, she
+told me she had as much as four hundred dollars in that stocking!
+I remember the sum, for it sounded like a great deal for
+anybody to have, who wasn’t a bank, like. It quite put me in
+mind of the <em>place ers</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>“Was there any coin like this?” showing the widow the
+Italian piece.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That’s the piece! I’d know it among a thousand! I had
+it in my hands as much as five minutes, trying to read the
+Latin on it, and make it out into English. All the rest was
+American gold, the old lady told me; but this piece she said was
+foreign.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This statement produced a great sensation in the court-room.
+Although Mrs. Pope was flippant, a gossip, and a little notorious
+for meddling with her neighbours’ concerns, no one suspected her
+of fabricating such a story, under oath. The piece of gold passed
+from juror to juror; and each man among them felt satisfied that
+he would know the coin again, after an interval of a few weeks.
+Dunscomb probably put less faith in this bit of testimony, than
+any other person present; and he was curious to note its effect
+on his client. To his great surprise, she betrayed no uneasiness;
+her countenance maintaining a calm that he now began to apprehend
+denoted a practised art; and he manifested a desire to examine
+the piece of gold for himself. It was put in his hand, and
+he glanced at its face a little eagerly. It was an unusual coin;
+but it had no defect or mark that might enable one to distinguish
+between it and any other piece of a similar impression. The
+coroner interpreted the meaning of his eye, and suspended the
+examination of the widow, to question Mary Monson herself.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Your client sees the state of the question, Mr. Dunscomb,”
+he said; “and you will look to her rights. Mine authorize me,
+as I understand them, to enquire of her concerning a few facts
+in relation to this piece of money.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I will answer your questions, sir, without any hesitation,”
+the accused replied, with a degree of steadiness that Dunscomb
+deemed astonishing.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How long has this piece of gold been in your possession, if
+you please, Miss?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>“About a twelvemonth. I began to collect the gold I have,
+very nearly a year since.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Has it been in your possession, uninterruptedly, all that
+time?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So far as I know, sir, it has. A portion of the time, and a
+large portion of it, it has not been kept in my purse; but I should
+think no one could have meddled with it, when it has been elsewhere.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you anything to remark on the testimony just given?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is strictly true. Poor Mrs. Goodwin certainly had the
+store of gold mentioned by Mrs. Pope, for she once showed it to
+me. I rather think she was fond of such things; and had a pleasure
+in counting her hoards, and showing them to other persons.
+I looked over her coins; and finding she was fond of those that
+are a little uncommon, I gave her one or two of those that I happened
+to own. No doubt, Mrs. Pope saw the counterpart of this
+piece, but surely not the piece itself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understand you to say, then, that Mrs. Goodwin had a gold
+coin similar to this, which gold coin came from yourself. What
+did Mrs. Goodwin allow you in the exchange?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How much did you estimate the value of that Italian piece
+at, and in what money did Mrs. Goodwin pay you for it? It is
+necessary to be particular in these cases.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She returned me nothing for the coin, sir. It was a present
+from me to her, and of course not to be paid for.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This answer met with but little favour. It did not appear to
+the people of Biberry at all probable that an unknown, and
+seemingly friendless young woman, who had been content to
+dwell two months in the “garret-room” of the “old Goodwin
+house,” faring none of the best, certainly, and neglecting so
+many superior tenements and tables that were to be met with on
+every side of her, would be very likely to give away a piece of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>gold of that unusual size. It is true, we are living in a marvellous
+age, so far as this metal is concerned; but the Californian
+gold had not then arrived in any great quantity, and the people
+of the country are little accustomed to see anything but silver
+and paper, which causes them to attach an unwonted value to
+the more precious metal. Even the coroner took this view of
+the matter; and Dunscomb saw that the explanation just made
+by his client was thought to prove too much.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are you in the habit, Miss, of giving away pieces of gold?”
+asked one of the jurors.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That question is improper,” interposed Mr. Dunscomb. “No
+one can have a right to put it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The coroner sustained this objection, and no answer was given.
+As Mrs. Pope had suggested that others, besides herself, had
+seen Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking, four more witnesses were examined
+to this one point. They were all females, who had been admitted
+by the deceased, in the indulgence of her passion, to feast
+their eyes with a sight of her treasure. Only one, however, of
+these four professed to have any recollection of the particular
+coin that had now become, as it might be, the pivoting point in
+the enquiry; and her recollections were by no means as clear as
+those of the widow. She <em>thought</em> she had seen such a piece of
+gold in Mrs. Goodwin’s possession, though she admitted she was
+not allowed to touch any of the money, which was merely held
+up, piece by piece, before her admiring eyes, in the hands of its
+proper owner. It was in this stage of the enquiry that Dunscomb
+remarked to the coroner, that “it was not at all surprising
+a woman who was so fond of exposing her treasure should be
+robbed and murdered!” This remark, however, failed of its intended
+effect, in consequence of the manner in which suspicion
+had become riveted, as it might be, through the testimony of
+Mrs. Pope, on the stranger who had so mysteriously come to
+lodge with the Goodwins. The general impression now appeared
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>to be that the whole matter had been previously arranged, and
+that the stranger had come to dwell in the house expressly to
+obtain facilities for the commission of the crime.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A witness who was related to the deceased, who was absent
+from home, but had been told, by means of the wires, to return,
+and who had intimated an intention to comply, was still wanting;
+and the inquest was again adjourned for an hour, in order to
+allow of the arrival of a stage from town. During this interval,
+Dunscomb ascertained how strongly the current was setting
+against his client. A hundred little circumstances were cited, in
+confirmation of suspicions that had now gained a firm footing,
+and which were so nearly general as to include almost every person
+of any consequence in the place. What appeared strangest
+to Dunscomb, was the composure of the young girl who was so
+likely to be formally accused of crimes so heinous. He had told
+her of the nature of the distrust that was attached to her situation,
+and she received his statement with a degree of emotion
+that, at first, had alarmed him. But an unaccountable calmness
+soon succeeded this burst of feeling, and he had found it necessary
+to draw confidence in the innocence of his client, from that
+strangely illuminated countenance, to study which was almost
+certain to subdue a man by its power. While thus gazing at the
+stranger, he could not believe her guilty; but, while reflecting
+on all the facts of the case, he saw how difficult it might be to
+persuade others to entertain the same opinion. Nor were there
+circumstances wanting to shake his own faith in expression, sex,
+years, and all the other probabilities. Mary Monson had declined
+entering at all into any account of her previous life; evaded
+giving her real name even to him; carefully abstained from all
+allusions that might furnish any clue to her former place of abode,
+or to any fact that would tend to betray her secret.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At the appointed hour the stage arrived, bringing the expected
+witness. His testimony went merely to corroborate the accounts
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>concerning the little hoard of gold that his kinswoman had undeniably
+possessed, and to the circumstance that she always kept it
+in a particular drawer of her bureau. The bureau had been saved,
+for it did not stand in the sleeping-room of the deceased, but had
+formed a principal embellishment of her little parlour, and the
+money was not in it. What was more, each drawer was carefully
+locked, but no keys were to be found. As these were articles
+not likely to be melted under any heat to which they might have
+been exposed, a careful but fruitless search had been made for
+them among the ruins. They were nowhere to be seen.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>About nine o’clock in the evening, the jury brought in the
+result of their inquest. It was a verdict of murder in the first
+degree, committed, in the opinion of the jurors, by a female who
+was known by the name of Mary Monson. With the accusation
+of arson, the coroner’s inquest, as a matter of course, had no
+connection. A writ was immediately issued, and the accused
+arrested.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id004'>
+<img src='images/i_081.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“It was the English,” Kasper cried,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>“Who put the French to rout;</div>
+ <div class='line'>But what they killed each other for,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>I could not well make out.</div>
+ <div class='line'>But everybody said,” quoth he,</div>
+ <div class='line'>“That ’twas a famous victory.”</div>
+ <div class='line in24'><cite>Southey.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The following day, after an early breakfast, Dunscomb and his
+friend the doctor were on their way back to town. The former
+had clients and courts, and the latter patients, who were not to
+be neglected, to say nothing of the claims of Sarah and Mrs.
+Updyke. John and Michael remained at Biberry; the first being
+detained there by divers commissions connected with the comforts
+and treatment of Mary Monson, but still more by his own inclinations;
+and the last remaining, somewhat against his wishes, as
+a companion to the brother of her who so strongly drew him
+back to New York.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As the commitment was for offences so serious, crimes as grave
+as any known to the law, bail would not have been accepted,
+could any have been found. We ought not to speak with too
+much confidence, however, on this last point; for Dr. McBrain, a
+man of very handsome estate, the result of a liberal profession
+steadily and intelligently pursued, was more than half disposed
+to offer himself for one of the sureties, and to go and find a
+second among his friends. Nothing, indeed, prevented his doing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>so; but Dunscomb’s repeated assurances that no bondsmen would
+be received. Even charming young women, when they stand
+charged with murder and arson, must submit to be incarcerated,
+until their innocence is established in due form of law; or, what
+is the same thing in effect, until the caprice, impulses, ignorance,
+or corruption of a jury acquits them.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The friends did not entirely agree in their manner of viewing
+this affair. The doctor was firmly impressed with the conviction
+of Mary Monson’s innocence; while Dunscomb, more experienced
+in the ways of crime and the infirmities of the human heart, had
+his misgivings. So many grounds of suspicion had occurred, or
+been laid open to his observation, during the hour of private
+communication, that it was not easy for one who had seen so
+much of the worst side of human nature, to cast them off under
+the mere influence of a graceful form, winning manner, and
+bright countenance. Then, the secondary facts, well established,
+and, in one important particular, admitted by the party accused,
+were not of a character to be overlooked. It often happens, and
+Dunscomb well knew it, that innocence appears under a repulsive
+exterior, while guilt conceals itself in forms and aspects so fair,
+as to deceive all but the wary and experienced.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hope that the comfort of Miss Monson has been properly
+attended to, since she must be confined for a few days,” said
+McBrain, while he took a last look at the little gaol, as the carriage
+passed the brow of a hill. “Justice can ask no more
+than security.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is a blot on the character of the times, and on this country
+in particular,” answered Dunscomb, coldly, “that so little attention
+is paid to the gaols. We are crammed with false philanthropy
+in connection with convicted rogues, who ought to be
+made to feel the penalties of their offences; while we are not even
+just in regard to those who are only accused, many of whom
+are really innocent. But for my interference, this delicate and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>friendless girl would, in all probability, have been immured in a
+common dungeon.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What! before her guilt is established?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Relatively, her treatment after conviction, would be far
+more humane than previously to that event. Comfortable, well-furnished,
+but secure apartments, ought to be provided for the
+accused in every county in the state, as acts of simple justice,
+before another word of mawkish humanity is uttered on the subject
+of the treatment of recognised criminals. It is wonderful
+what a disposition there is among men to run into octaves, in
+everything they do, forgetting that your true melody is to be
+found only in the simpler and more natural notes. There is as
+much of the <em>falsetto</em>, now-a-days, in philanthropy, as in music.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And this poor girl is thrust into a dungeon?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No; it is not quite as bad as that. The gaol has one decent
+apartment, that was fitted up for the comfort of a prize-fighter,
+who was confined in it not long since; and as the room is sufficiently
+secure, I have persuaded the gaoler’s wife to put Mary
+Monson in it. Apart from loss of air and exercise, and the happiness
+of knowing herself respected and beloved, the girl will not
+be very badly off there. I dare say, the room is quite as good as
+that she occupied under the roof of those unfortunate Goodwins.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How strange, that a female of her appearance should have
+been the inmate of such a place! She does not seem to want
+money, either. You saw the gold she had in her purse?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay; it were better had that gold not been there, or not seen.
+I sincerely wish it had been nothing but silver.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You surely do not agree with that silly woman, the Widow
+Pope, as they call her, in believing that she has got the money
+of those persons who have been murdered?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“On that subject, I choose to suspend my opinion—I may,
+or I may not; as matters shall turn up. She has money;
+and in sufficient quantity to buy herself out of jeopardy. At
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>least, she offered me a fee of a hundred dollars, in good city
+paper.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which you did not take, Tom?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why not? It is my trade, and I live by it. Why not take
+her fee, if you please, sir? Does the Widow Updyke teach you
+such doctrines? Will you drive about town for nothing? Why
+not take her fee, Master Ned?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why not, sure enough! That girl has bewitched me, I
+believe; and that is the solution.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll tell you what, Ned, unless there is a stop put to this
+folly, I’ll make Mrs. Updyke acquainted with the whole matter,
+and put an end to nuptials No. 3. Jack is head and ears in love,
+already; and here you are flying off at a tangent from all your
+engagements and professions, to fall at the feet of an unknown
+girl of twenty, who appears before you, on a first interview, in
+the amiable light of one accused of the highest crimes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And of which I no more believe her guilty, than I believe
+you to be guilty of them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Umph! ‘Time will show;’ which is the English, I suppose,
+of the ‘<span lang="fr"><i>nous verrons</i></span>,’ that is flying about in the newspapers.
+Yes, she has money to buy three or four journals, to get up a
+‘sympathy’ in her behalf; when her acquittal would be almost
+certain, if her trial were not a legal impossibility. I am not sure
+it is not her safest course, in the actual state of the facts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Would you think, Dunscomb, of advising any one who looked
+up to you for counsel, to take such a course?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly not—and you know it, well enough, McBrain;
+but that does not lessen, or increase, the chances of the expedient.
+The journals have greatly weakened their own power, by the
+manner in which they have abused it; but enough still remains
+to hoodwink, not to say to overshadow, justice. The law is very
+explicit and far-sighted as to the consequences of allowing any one
+to influence the public mind in matters of its own administration;
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>but in a country like this, in which the virtue and intelligence of
+the people are said to be the <span lang="la"><i>primum mobile</i></span> in everything, there
+is no one to enforce the ordinances that the wisdom of our ancestors
+has bequeathed to us. Any editor of a newspaper who publishes
+a sentence reflecting on the character or rights of a party
+to a pending suit, is guilty, at common law, of what the books
+call a ‘libel on the courts of justice,’ and can be punished for it,
+as for any other misdemeanor; yet, you can see for yourself, how
+little such a provision, healthful and most wise—nay, essential
+as it is to justice—is looked down by the mania which exists, of
+putting everything into print. When one remembers that very
+little of what he reads is true, it is fearful to reflect that a system,
+of which the whole merit depends on its power to extract facts,
+and to do justice on their warranty, should be completely overshadowed
+by another contrivance which, when stripped of its
+pretension, and regarded in its real colours, is nothing more than
+one of the ten thousand schemes to make money that surround
+us, with a little higher pretension than common to virtue.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“‘Completely overshadowed’ are strong words, Dunscomb!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps they are, and they may need a little qualifying.
+Overshadowed often—much too often, however, is not a particle
+stronger than I am justified in using. Every one, who thinks at
+all, sees and feels the truth of this; but here is the weak side
+of a popular government. The laws are enforced by means of
+public virtue, and public virtue, like private virtue, is very frail.
+We all are willing enough to admit the last, as regards our
+neighbours at least, while there seems to exist, in most minds, a
+species of idolatrous veneration for the common sentiment, as
+sheer a quality of straw, as any image of a lover drawn by the
+most heated imagination of sixteen.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You surely do not disregard public opinion, Tom, or set it
+down as unworthy of all respect!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By no means; if you mean that opinion which is the result
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>of deliberate judgment, and has a direct connection with our religion,
+morals, and manners. That is a public opinion to which
+we all ought to defer, when it is fairly made up, and has been
+distinctly and independently pronounced; most especially when
+it comes from high quarters, and not from low. But the country
+is full of simulated public opinion, in the first place, and it is not
+always easy to tell the false from the true. Yes, the country is
+full of what I shall call an artificial public opinion, that has been
+got up to effect a purpose, and to that no wise man will defer, if
+he can help it. Now, look at our scheme of administering justice.
+Twelve men taken out of the bosom of the community,
+by a species of lottery, are set apart to pronounce on your fortune,
+or mine—nay, to utter the fearful words of ‘guilty,’ or
+‘not guilty.’ All the <a id='corr83.14'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='accessaries'>accessories</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_83.14'><ins class='correction' title='accessaries'>accessories</ins></a></span> of this plan, as they exist here,
+make against its success. In the first place, the jurors are paid,
+and that just enough to induce the humblest on the list to serve,
+and not enough to induce the educated and intelligent. It is a
+day-labourer’s wages, and the day-labourer will be most likely to
+profit by it. Men who are content to toil for seventy-five cents
+a day are very willing to serve on juries for a dollar; while those
+whose qualifications enable them to obtain enough to pay their
+fines, disregard the penalty, and stay away.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why is not an evil as flagrant as this remedied? I should
+think the whole bar would protest against it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“With what result? Who cares for the bar? Legislators
+alone can change this system, and men very different from those
+who are now sent must go to the legislature, before one is found,
+honest enough, or bold enough, to get up and tell the people
+they are not all fit to be trusted. No, no; this is not the way
+of the hour. We have a cycle in opinion to make, and it may
+be that when the round is fairly made, men may come back to
+their senses, and perceive the necessity of fencing in justice by
+some of the useful provisions that we are now so liberally throwing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>away. To tell you the truth, Ned, the state is submitting to
+the influence of two of the silliest motives that can govern men—ultra
+conservatism, and ultra progress; the one holding back,
+often, to preserve that which is not worth keeping; and the other
+‘going ahead,’ as it is termed, merely for the sake of boasting
+of their onward tendencies. Neither course is in the least suited
+to the actual wants of society, and each is pernicious in its way.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is thought, however, that when opinion thus struggles
+with opinion, a healthful compromise is made, in which society
+finds its advantage.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The cant of mediocrity, depend on it, Ned. In the first place,
+there is no compromise about it; one side or the other gains the
+victory; and as success is sustained by numbers, the conquerors
+push their advantages to the utmost. They think of their own
+grosser interests, their passions and prejudices, rather than of any
+‘healthful compromise,’ as you term it. What compromise is there
+in this infernal code?”—Dunscomb was an ultra himself, in opposition
+to a system that has a good deal of that which is useful,
+diluted by more that is not quite so good—“or what in this
+matter of the election of judges by the people? As respects the
+last, for instance, had the tenure of office been made ‘good behaviour,’
+there would have been something like a compromise;
+but, no—the conquerors took all; and what is worse, the conquerors
+were actually a minority of the voters, so easy is it
+to cow even numbers by political chicanery. In this respect,
+democracy is no more infallible, than any other form of government.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I confess, I do not see how this is shown, since the polls were
+free to every citizen.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The result fairly proves it. Less than half of the known
+number of the electors voted for the change. Now, it is absurd
+to suppose that men who really and affirmatively wished a new
+constitution would stay away from the polls.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>“More so, than to suppose that they who did not wish it,
+would stay away, too?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“More so; and for this reason. Thousands fancied it useless
+to stem the current of what they fancied a popular movement,
+and were passive in the matter. Any man, of an extensive
+acquaintance, may easily count a hundred such idlers. Then a
+good many stood on their legal rights, and refused to vote, because
+the manner of producing the change was a palpable violation
+of a previous contract; the old constitution pointing out the
+manner in which the instrument could be altered, which was not
+the mode adopted. Then tens of thousands voted for the new
+constitution, who did not know anything about it. They loved
+change, and voted for change’s sake; and, possibly, with some
+vague notion that they were to be benefited by making the institutions
+as popular as possible.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And is not this the truth? Will not the mass be all the
+better off, by exercising as much power as they can?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No; and for the simple reason that masses cannot, in the
+nature of things, exercise more than a very limited power. You,
+yourself, for instance, one of the mass, cannot exercise this very
+power of choosing a judge, as it ought to be exercised, and of
+course are liable to do more harm than good.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The deuce I cannot! Why is not my vote as good as your
+own? or that of any other man?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For the simple reason, that you are ignorant of the whole
+matter. Ask yourself the question, and answer it like an honest
+man: would you—<em>could</em> you, with the knowledge you possess,
+lay your finger on any man in this community, and say, ‘I make
+you a judge?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; my finger would be laid on you, in a minute.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ah, Ned, that will do, as a friend; but how would it do as
+a judicious selection of a judge you do not know? You are
+ignorant of the law, and must necessarily be ignorant of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>qualifications of any particular person to be an interpreter of it.
+What is true of you, is equally true of a vast majority of those
+who are now the electors of our judges.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am not a little surprised, Tom, to hear <em>you</em> talk in this
+way; for you profess to be a democrat!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To the extent of giving the people all power, in the last
+resort—all power that they can intelligently and usefully use;
+but not to the extent of permitting them to make the laws, to
+execute the laws, and to interpret the laws. All that the people
+want, is sufficient power to secure their liberties, which is simply
+such a state of things as shall secure what is right between man
+and man. Now, it is the want of this all-important security, in
+a practical point of view, of which I complain. Rely on it, Ned,
+the people gain nothing by exercising an authority that they do
+not know how to turn to good account. It were far better for
+them, and for the state, to confine themselves to the choice of
+general agents, of whose characters they may know something,
+and then confide all other powers to servants appointed by those
+named by these agents, holding all alike to a rigid responsibility.
+As for the judges, they will soon take decided party characters;
+and men will as blindly accuse, and as blindly defend them,
+as they now do their other leading partisans. What between
+the bench and the jury-box, we shall shortly enjoy a legal pandemonium.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yet there are those who think the trial by jury is the palladium
+of our liberties.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb laughed outright, for he recollected his conversation
+with the young men, which we have already related. Then
+suppressing his risible propensity, he continued gravely—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, one or two papers, well fee’d by this young woman’s
+spare cash, might do her more good than any service I can render
+her. I dare say the accounts now published, or soon to be
+published, will leave a strong bias against her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>“Why not fee a reporter as well as a lawyer, eh, Tom? There
+is no great difference, as I can see.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes you can, and will, too, as soon as you look into the
+matter. A lawyer is paid for a known and authorized assistance,
+and the public recognises in him one engaged in the interests of
+his client, and accepts his statements and efforts accordingly.
+But the conductor of a public journal sets up a claim to strict
+impartiality, in his very profession, and should tell nothing but
+what he believes to be true, neither inventing nor suppressing. In
+his facts, he is merely the publisher of a record; in his reasoning,
+a judge; not an advocate.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The doctor now laughed, in his turn, and well he might; few
+men being so ignorant as not to understand how far removed
+from all this are most of those who control the public journals.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“After all, it is a tremendous power to confide to irresponsible
+men!” he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That it is, and there is nothing among us that so completely
+demonstrates how far, very far, the public mind is in the rear of
+the facts of the country, than the blind, reckless manner in
+which the press is permitted to tyrannize over the community, in
+the midst of all our hosannas to the Goddess of Liberty. Because,
+forsooth, what is termed a free press is useful, and has
+been useful in curbing an irresponsible, hereditary power, in
+other lands, we are just stupid enough to think it is of equal
+importance here, where no such power exists, and where all that
+remains to be done, is to strictly maintain the equal rights of all
+classes of citizens. Did we understand ourselves, and our own
+real wants, not a paper should be printed in the state, that did
+not make a deposit to meet the legal penalties it might incur by
+the abuse of its trust. This is or was done in France, the country
+of all others that best respects equality of rights in theory, if not
+in practice!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You surely would not place restrictions on the press!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>“I would though, and very severe restrictions, as salutary
+checks on the immense power it wields. I would, for instance,
+forbid the publication of any statement whatever, touching parties
+in the courts, whether in civil or criminal cases, pending the
+actions, that the public mind might not be tainted, by design.
+Give the right to publish, and it will be, and is abused, and that
+most flagrantly, to meet the wishes of corruption. I tell you,
+Ned, as soon as you make a trade of news, you create a stock
+market that will have its rise and fall, under the impulses of fear,
+falsehood, and favour, just like your money transactions. It is
+a perversion of the nature of things, to make of news more than
+a simple statement of what has actually occurred.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is surely natural to lie!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is it, and this is the very reason we should not throw
+extraordinary protection around a thousand tongues which speak
+by means of types, that we do not give to the natural member.
+The lie that is told by the press is ten thousand times a lie, in
+comparison with that which issues from the mouth of man.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By George, Tom, if I had your views, I would see that some
+of this strange young woman’s money should be used in sustaining
+her, by means of the agents you mention!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That would never do. This is one of the cases in which
+‘want of principle’ has an ascendancy over ‘principle.’ The
+upright man cannot consent to use improper instruments, while
+the dishonest fellows seize on them with avidity. So much the
+greater, therefore, is the necessity for the law’s watching the
+interests of the first with the utmost jealousy. But, unfortunately,
+we run away with the sound, and overlook the sense of
+things.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We have related this conversation at a length which a certain
+class of our readers will probably find tedious, but it is necessary
+to a right comprehension of various features in the picture we
+are about to draw. At the Stag’s Head the friends stopped to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>let the horses blow, and, while the animals were cooling themselves
+under the care of Stephen Hoof, McBrain’s coachman, the
+gentlemen took a short walk in the hamlet. At several points,
+as they moved along, they overheard the subject of the murders
+alluded to, and saw divers newspapers, in the hands of sundry
+individuals, who were eagerly perusing accounts of the same
+events; sometimes by themselves, but oftener to groups of attentive
+listeners. The travellers were now so near town as to be
+completely within its moral, not to say physical, atmosphere—being
+little more than a suburb of New York. On their return
+to the inn, the doctor stopped under the shed to look at his
+horses, before Stephen checked them up again, previously to a
+fresh start. Stephen was neither an Irishman nor a black; but
+a regular, old-fashioned, Manhattannese coachman; a class apart,
+and of whom, in the confusion of tongues that pervades that
+modern Babel, a few still remain, like monuments of the past,
+scattered along the Appian Way.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How do your horses stand the heat, Stephen?” the doctor
+kindly enquired, always speaking of the beasts as if they were
+the property of the coachman, and not of himself. “Pill looks
+as if he had been well warmed this morning.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, he takes it somewhat hotter than Poleus, in the
+spring of the year, as a gineral thing. Pill vill vork famously,
+if a body vill only give him his feed in vhat I calls a genteel
+vay; but them ’ere country taverns has nothing nice about ’em,
+not even a clean manger; and a town horse that is accustomed
+to a sweet stable and proper company, won’t stand up to the rack
+as he should do, in one of their holes. Now, Poleus I calls a
+gineral feeder; it makes no matter vith him vhether he is at
+home, or out on a farm—he finishes his oats, but it isn’t so
+vith Pill, sir—his stomach is delicate, and the horse that don’t
+get his proper food vill sweat, summer or vinter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I sometimes think, Stephen, it might be better to take them
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>both off their oats for a few days, and let blood, perhaps; they say
+that the fleam is as good for a horse as the lancet is for a man.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do n’t think on’t, sir, I beg of you! I’m sure they has
+doctor-stuff in their names, not to crowd ’em down vith any
+more, jist as varm veather is a settin’ in. Oats is physic enough
+for a horse, and vhen the creaturs vants anything more, sir, jist
+leave ’em to me. I knows as peculiar a drench as ever vas
+poured down a vheeler’s throat, vithout troublin’ that academy
+in Barclay street, vhere so many gentlemen goes two or three
+times a veek, and vhere they do say, so many goes in as never
+comes out whole.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, Stephen, I’ll not interfere with your treatment, for I
+confess to very little knowledge of the diseases of horses. What
+have you got in the paper there, that I see you have been
+reading?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Vhy, sir,” answered Stephen, scratching his head, “it’s all
+about our affair, up yonder.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Our affair! Oh! you mean the inquest, and the murder.
+Well, what does the paper say about it, Hoof?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It says it’s a most ‘thrilling a’count,’ sir, and an ‘awful
+tragedy’; and it vonders vhat young vomen is a coming to, next.
+I am pretty much of the same vay of thinking, sir, myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are in the habit of thinking very much as the newspapers
+do, are you not, Stephen?” asked Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Vell, ’Squire Dunscomb, you’ve hit it! There is an onaccountable
+resemblance, like, in our thoughts. I hardly ever set
+down to read a paper, that, afore I’ve got half vay through it, I
+find it thinking just as I do! It puzzles me to know how them
+that writes for these papers finds out a body’s thoughts so vell!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They have a way of doing it; but it is too long a story to go
+over now. So this paper has something to say about our young
+woman, has it, Stephen? and it mentions the Biberry business?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A good deal, ’Squire; and vhat I calls good sense, too
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>Vhy, gentlemen, vhat shall we all come to, if young gals of
+fifteen can knock us in the head, matched, like, or in pairs, killing
+a whole team at one blow, and then set fire to the stables, and
+burn us up to our anatomies?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Fifteen! Does your account say that Miss Monson is only
+fifteen, Hoof?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“‘She appears to be of the tender age of fifteen, and is of
+extr’ornary personal attractions.’ Them’s the werry vords, sir;
+but perhaps you’d like to read it yourselves, gentlemen?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As Stephen made this remark, he very civilly offered the
+journal to Dunscomb, who took it; but was not disposed to drop
+the conversation just then to read it, though his eye did glance
+at the article, as he continued the subject. This was a habit
+with him; his clerks often saying, he could carry the chains of
+arguments of two subjects in his mind at the same moment. His
+present object, was to ascertain from this man what might be the
+popular feeling in regard to his client, at the place they had just
+left, and the scene of the events themselves.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What is thought and said, at Biberry, among those with
+whom you talked, Stephen, concerning this matter?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That it’s a most awful ewent, ’Squire! One of the werry
+vorst that has happened in these werry vicked times, sir. I heard
+one gentleman go over all the murders that has taken place about
+York during these last ten years, and a perdigious sight on ’em
+there vas; so many, that I began to vonder I vasn’t one of the
+wictims myself; but he counted ’em off on his fingers, and made
+this out to be one of the werry vorst of ’em all, sir. He did,
+indeed, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was he a reporter, Stephen? one of the persons who are
+sent out by the papers to collect news?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe he vas, sir. Quite a gentleman; and vith something
+to say to all he met. He often came out to the stables,
+and had a long conwersation vith as poor a feller as I be.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>“Pray, what could he have to say to you, Stephen?” demanded
+the doctor, a little gravely.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! lots of things, sir. He began by praising the horses,
+and asking their names. I give him <em>my</em> names, sir, not <em>yourn</em>;
+for I thought he might get it into print, somehow, that Dr.
+McBrain calls his coach-horses after his physic, Pill and Poleus”—“Bolus,”
+was the real appellation that the owner had been
+pleased to give this beast; but as Stephen fancied the word had
+some connection with “pole-horse,” he chose to pronounce it as
+written—“Yes, I didn’t vish <em>your</em> names to get into the papers,
+sir; and so I told him ‘Pill’ vas called ‘Marygoold,’ and
+‘Poleus,’ ‘Dandelion.’ He promised an article about ’em, sir;
+and I give him the ages, blood, sires, and dams, of both the
+beauties. He told me he thought the names delightful; and
+I’m in hopes, sir, you’ll give up <em>yourn</em>, arter all, and take to
+<em>mine</em>, altogether.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We shall see. And he promised an article, did he?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, quite woluntary. I know’d that the horses couldn’t
+be outdone, and told him as much as that; for I thought, as the
+subject vas up, it might be as vell to do ’em all the credit I
+could. Perhaps, vhen they gets to be too old for vork, you
+might vish to part vith ’em, sir, and then a good newspaper
+character could do ’em no great harm.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Stephen was a particularly honest fellow, as to things in general;
+but he had the infirmity which seems to be so general among
+men, that of a propensity to cheat in a transfer of horse-flesh.
+Dunscomb was amused at this exhibition of character, of which
+he had seen so much in his day, and felt disposed to follow it up.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe you had some difficulty in choosing one of the
+horses, Stephen”—McBrain commissioned his coachman to do
+all the bargaining of this sort, and <a id='corr92.31'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='bad'>had</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_92.31'><ins class='correction' title='bad'>had</ins></a></span> never lost a cent by his
+confidence—“Pill, I think it was, that didn’t bring as good a
+character as he might have done?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>“Beg your pardon, ’Squire, ’twas n’t he, but Marygoold.
+Vhy, the thing vas this: a gentleman of the church had bought
+Marygoold to go in a buggy; but soon vanted to part vith him,
+’cause of his shyin’ in single harness, vhich frightened his vife,
+<em>as he said</em>. Now, all the difficulty vas in this one thing: not
+that I cared at all about the creatur’s shyin’, vhich vas no great
+matter in double harness, you know, sir, and a body could soon
+coax him out of the notion on it, by judgematical drivin’; but
+the difficulty vas here—if the owner of a horse owned so much
+ag’in his character, there must be a great deal behind, that a
+feller must find out as vell as he could. I’ve know’d a foundered
+animal put off under a character for shyin’.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And the owner a clergyman, Stephen?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps not, sir. But it makes no great matter in tradin’
+horses; church and the vorld is much of a muchness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did that reporting gentleman ask any questions concerning
+the owner, as well as concerning the horses?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Vhy, yes, sir; vhen he vas done vith the animals, he did
+make a few obserwations about the doctor. He vanted to know
+if he vas married yet, and vhen it vas to happen; and how much
+I thought he might be vorth, and how much Mrs. Updyke vas
+counted for; and if there vas children; and vhich house the
+family vas to live in; and vhere he should keep the slate, arter
+the veddin’ had come off; and how much the doctor’s practice
+vas vorth; and vhether he vas vhig or locy; and, most of all, he
+vanted to know vhy he and you, sir, should go to Biberry about
+this murder.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What did you tell him, Stephen, in reference to the last?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Vhat could I, sir? I don’t know, myself. I’ve druv’ the
+doctor often and often to see them that has died soon arter our
+wisit; but I never druv’ him, afore, to wisit the dead. That
+gentleman seemed to think he vas much mistaken about the
+skeletons; but it’s all in the paper, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>On hearing this, Dunscomb quickly turned to the columns of
+the journal again, and was soon reading their contents aloud to
+his friend; in the meantime, Stephen set Marygoold and Dandelion
+in motion once more.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The account was much as Dunscomb expected to find it; so
+written as to do no possible good, while it might do a great deal
+of harm. The intention was to feed a morbid feeling in the vulgar
+for exaggerated accounts of the shocking—the motive being
+gain. Anything that would sell, was grist for this mill; and the
+more marvellous and terrible the history of the event could be
+made, the greater was the success likely to be. The allusions to
+Mary Monson were managed with a good deal of address; for,
+while there was a seeming respect for her rights, the reader was
+left to infer that her guilt was not only beyond a question, but
+of the darkest dye. It was while reading and commenting on
+these articles, that the carriage entered Broadway, and soon set
+Dunscomb down at his own door. There the doctor left it;
+choosing to walk as far as Mrs. Updyke’s, rather than give
+Stephen more materials for the reporter.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Then none was for a party;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Then all were for the state;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then the great man help’d the poor,</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>And the poor man lov’d the great:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Then lands were fairly portion’d;</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>Then spoils were fairly sold;</div>
+ <div class='line'>The Romans were like brothers</div>
+ <div class='line in2'>In the brave days of old.”</div>
+ <div class='line in23'><cite>Macaulay.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>It has been said that John Wilmeter was left by his uncle at
+Bilberry, to look after the welfare of their strange client. John,
+or Jack, as he was commonly called by his familiars, including
+his pretty sister, was in the main a very good fellow, though far
+from being free from the infirmities to which the male portion
+of the human family are subject, when under the age of thirty.
+He was frank, manly, generous, disposed to think for himself,
+and what is somewhat unusual with his countrymen, of a temperament
+that led him to make up his mind suddenly, and was
+not to be easily swayed by the notions that might be momentarily
+floating about in the neighbourhood. Perhaps a little of a spirit
+of opposition to the feeling that was so rapidly gaining head in
+Biberry, inclined him to take a warmer interest in the singular
+female who stood charged with such enormous crimes, than he
+might otherwise have done.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The instructions left by Mr. Dunscomb with his nephew, also
+gave the latter some uneasiness. In the first place, they had
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>been very ample and thoughtful on the subject of the prisoner’s
+comforts, which had been seen to in a way that is by no means
+common in a gaol. Money had been used pretty freely in effecting
+this object, it is true; but, out of the large towns, money
+passes for much less on such occasions, in America, than in most
+other countries. The people are generally kind-hearted, and
+considerate for the wants of others; and fair words will usually
+do quite as much as dollars. Dunscomb, however, had made a
+very judicious application of both, and beyond the confinement
+and the fearful nature of the charges brought against her, Mary
+Monson had very little to complain of in her situation.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The part of his instructions which gave John Wilmeter most
+uneasiness, which really vexed him, related to the prisoner’s innocence
+or guilt. The uncle distrusted; the nephew was all
+confidence. While the first had looked at the circumstances
+coolly, and was, if anything, leaning to the opinion that there
+might be truth in the charges; the last beheld in Mary Monson
+an attractive young person of the other sex, whose innocent
+countenance was the pledge of an innocent soul. To John, it
+was preposterous to entertain a charge of this nature against one
+so singularly gifted.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should as soon think of accusing Sarah of such dark
+offences, as of accusing this young lady!” exclaimed John to his
+friend Michael Millington, while the two were taking their breakfast
+next day. “It is preposterous—wicked—monstrous, to suppose
+that a young, educated female, would, or could, commit such
+crimes! Why, Mike, she understands French and Italian, and
+Spanish; and I think it quite likely that she can also read German,
+if, indeed, she cannot speak it!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How do you know this?—Has she been making a display
+of her knowledge?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not in the least—it all came out as naturally as possible.
+She asked for some of her own books to read, and when they
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>were brought to her, I found that she had selected works in all
+four of these languages. I was quite ashamed of my own ignorance,
+I can assure you; which amounts to no more than a
+smattering of French, in the face of her Spanish, Italian and
+German!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Poh! I shouldn’t have minded it, in the least,” Michael
+very coolly replied, his mouth being half-full of beefsteak. “The
+girls lead us in such things, of course. No man dreams of keeping
+up with a young lady who has got into the living languages.
+Miss Wilmeter might teach us both, and laugh at our ignorance,
+in the bargain.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sarah! Ay, she is a good enough girl, in her <em>way</em>—but no
+more to be compared——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Jack Wilmeter stopped short, for Millington dropped his knife
+with not a little clatter, on his plate, and was gazing at his friend
+in a sort of fierce astonishment.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You don’t dream of comparing your sister to this unknown
+and suspected stranger!” at length Michael got out, speaking
+very much like one whose head has been held under water until
+his breath was nearly exhausted. “You ought to recollect,
+John, that virtue should never be brought unnecessarily in contact
+with vice.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mike, and do you, too, believe in the guilt of Mary Monson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe that she is committed under a verdict given by an
+inquest, and think it best to suspend my opinion as to the main
+fact, in waiting for further evidence. Remember, Jack, how
+often your uncle has told us that, after all, good witnesses were
+the gist of the law. Let us wait and see what a trial may bring
+forth.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Young Wilmeter covered his face with his hands, bowed his
+head to the table, and ate not another morsel that morning.
+His good sense admonished him of the prudence of the advice
+just given; while feelings, impetuous, and excited almost to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>fierceness, impelled him to go forth and war on all who denied
+the innocence of the accused. To own the truth, John Wilmeter
+was fast becoming entangled in the meshes of love.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>And, sooth to say, notwithstanding the extreme awkwardness
+of her situation, the angry feeling that was so fast rising up
+against her in Biberry and its vicinity, and the general mystery
+that concealed her real name, character and history, there was
+that about Mary Monson, in her countenance, other personal advantages,
+and most of all in her manner and voice, that might
+well catch the fancy of a youth of warm feelings, and through
+his fancy, sooner or later, touch his heart. As yet, John was
+only under the influence of the new-born sentiment, and had he
+now been removed from Biberry, it is probable that the feelings
+and interest which had been so suddenly and powerfully awakened
+in him would have passed away altogether, or remained
+in shadow on his memory, as a melancholy and yet pleasant
+record of hours past, under circumstances in which men live fast,
+if they do not always live well. Little did the uncle think of
+the great danger to which he exposed his nephew, when he
+placed him, like a sentinel in law, on duty near the portal of his
+immured client. But the experienced Dunscomb was anxious to
+bring John into active life, and to place him in situations that
+might lead him to think and execute for himself; and it had been
+much his practice, of late, to put the young man forward, when
+ever circumstances would admit of it. Although the counsellor
+was more than at his ease in fortune, and John and Sarah each
+possessed very respectable means, that placed them altogether
+above dependence, he was exceedingly anxious that his nephew
+should succeed to his own business, as the surest mode of securing
+his happiness and respectability in a community where the
+number of the idle is relatively so small as to render the pursuits
+of a class that is by no means without its uses, where it can be
+made to serve the tastes and manners of a country, difficult of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>attainment. He had the same desire in behalf of his niece, or
+that she should become the wife of a man who had something to
+do; and the circumstance that Millington, though of highly
+reputable connections, was almost entirely without fortune, was
+no objection in his eyes to the union that Sarah was so obviously
+inclined to form. The two young men had been left on the
+ground, therefore, to take care of the interests of a client whom
+Dunscomb was compelled to admit was one that interested him
+more than any other in whose services he had ever been employed,
+strongly as he was disposed to fear that appearances
+might be deceitful.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Our young men were not idle. In addition to doing all that
+was in their power to contribute to the personal comforts of Miss
+Monson, they were active and intelligent in obtaining, and
+making notes of, all the facts that had been drawn out by the
+coroner’s inquest, or which could be gleaned in the neighbourhood.
+These facts, or rumours, John classed into the “proved,”
+the “reported,” the “probable” and the “improbable;” accompanying
+each division with such annotations as made a very useful
+sort of brief for any one who wished to push the inquiries
+further.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There, Millington,” he said when they reached the gaol, on
+their return from a walk as far as the ruins of the house which
+had been burnt, and after they had dined, “there; I think we
+have done tolerably well for one day, and are in a fair way to give
+uncle Tom a pretty full account of this miserable business. The
+more I see and learn of it, the more I am convinced of the perfect
+innocence of the accused. I trust it strikes you in the same
+way, Mike?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>But Mike was by no means as sanguine as his friend. He
+smiled faintly at this question, and endeavoured to evade a direct
+answer. He saw how lively were the hopes of Tom, and
+how deeply his feelings were getting to be interested in the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>matter, while his own judgment, influenced, perhaps, by <a id='corr100.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mr'>Mr.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_100.1'><ins class='correction' title='Mr'>Mr.</ins></a></span>
+Dunscomb’s example, greatly inclined him to the worst foreboding
+of the result. Still he had an honest satisfaction in saying
+anything that might contribute to the gratification of Sarah’s
+brother, and a good opportunity now offering, he did not let it
+escape him.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There is one thing, Jack, that seems to have been strangely
+overlooked,” he said, “and out of which some advantage may
+come, if it be thoroughly sifted. You may remember it was
+stated by some of the witnesses, that there was a German woman
+in the family of the Goodwins, the day that preceded the fire—one
+employed in housework?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Now you mention it, I do! Sure enough; what has become
+of that woman?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“While you were drawing your diagram of the ruins, and
+projecting your plan of the out-buildings, garden, fields and so
+on, I stepped across to the nearest house, and had a chat with
+the ladies. You may remember I told you it was to get a drink
+of milk; but I saw petticoats, and thought something might be
+learned from woman’s propensity to talk?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know you left me, but was too busy, just then, to see on
+what errand, or whither you went.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It was to the old stone farm-house that stands only fifty rods
+from the ruins. The family in possession is named Burton, and
+a more talkative set I never encountered in petticoats.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How many had you to deal with, Mike?” John enquired,
+running his eyes over his notes as he asked the question, in a
+way that showed how little he anticipated from this interview
+with the Burtons. “If more than one of the garrulous set I
+pity you, for I had a specimen of them yesterday morning myself,
+in a passing interview.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There were three talkers, and one silent body. As is usual,
+I thought that the silent member of the house knew more than
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>the speakers, if she had been inclined to let out her knowledge.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, that is a way we have of judging of one another; but it
+is as often false as true. As many persons are silent because
+they have nothing to say, as because they are reflecting; and of
+those who <em>look</em> very wise, about one-half, as near as I can judge,
+<em>look</em> so as a sort of apology for being very silly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can’t say how it was with Mrs. Burton, the silent member
+of the family, in this case; but I do know that her three worthy
+sisters-in-law are to be classed among the foolish virgins.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Had they no oil to trim their lamps withal?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It had all been used to render their tongues limber. Never
+did three damsels pour out words in so full a rivulet, as I was
+honoured with for the first five minutes. By the end of that
+time, I was enabled to put a question or two; after which they
+were better satisfied to let me interrogate, while they were content
+to answer.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you learn anything, Mike, to reward you for all this
+trouble?” again glancing at his notes.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think I did. With a good deal of difficulty in <em>eliminating</em>
+the surplussage, if I may coin a word for the occasion, I got these
+facts:—It would seem that the German woman was a newly-arrived
+immigrant, who had strolled into the country, and offered
+to work for her food, &c. Mrs. Goodwin usually attended to all
+her own domestic matters; but she had an attack of the rheumatism
+that predisposed her to receive this offer, and that so much
+the more willingly, because the ‘help’ was not to be paid. It
+appears that the deceased female was an odd mixture of miserly
+propensities with a love of display. She hoarded all she could
+lay her hands on, and took a somewhat uncommon pleasure in
+showing her hoards to her neighbours. In consequence of this
+last weakness, the whole neighbourhood knew not only of her
+gold, for she turned every coin into that metal, before it was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>consigned to her stocking; but of the amount to a dollar, and
+the place where she kept it. In this all agreed, even to the
+silent matron.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And what has become of this German woman?” asked John
+closing his notes with sudden interest. “Why was she not examined
+before the inquest? and where is she now?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No one knows. She has been missing ever since the fire
+and a few fancy that she may, after all, be the person who has
+done the whole mischief. It does wear a strange look, that no
+trace can be heard of her!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This must be looked into closely, Mike. It is unaccountably
+strange that more was not said of her before the coroner. Yet,
+I fear one thing, too. Dr. McBrain is a man of the highest
+attainments as an anatomist, and you will remember that he
+inclines to the opinion that both the skeletons belonged to
+females. Now, it may turn out that this German woman’s
+remains have been found; which will put her guilt out of the
+question.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Surely, Jack, you would not be sorry to have it turn out
+that any human being should be innocent of such crimes!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By no means; though it really does seem to me more probable
+that an unknown straggler should be the guilty one in this
+case, than an educated young female, who has every claim in the
+way of attainments to be termed a lady. Besides, Michael, these
+German immigrants have brought more than their share of crime
+among us. Look at the reports of murders and robberies for the
+last ten years, and you will find that an undue proportion of them
+have been committed by this class of immigrants. To me, nothing
+appears more probable than this affair’s being traced up to
+that very woman.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I own you are right, in saying what you do of the Germans.
+But it should be remembered, that some of their states are said
+to have adopted the policy of sending their rogues to America.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>If <em>England</em> were to attempt that, now, I fancy Jonathan would
+hardly stand it!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He ought not to stand it for an hour, from any nation on
+earth. If there ever was a good cause for war, this is one. Yes,
+yes; that German immigrant must be looked up, and examined.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Michael Millington smiled faintly at John Wilmeter’s disposition
+to believe the worst of the High Dutch; touching the
+frailties of whom, however, neither of the two had exaggerated
+anything. Far more than their share of the grave crimes of this
+country have, within the period named, been certainly committed
+by immigrants from Germany; whether the cause be in the
+reason given, or in national character. This is not according to
+ancient opinion, but we believe it to be strictly according to fact.
+The Irish are clannish, turbulent, and much disposed to knock
+each other on the head; but it is not to rob, or to pilfer, but to
+quarrel. The Englishman will pick your pocket, or commit burglary,
+when inclined to roguery, and frequently he has a way of
+his own of extorting, in the way of vails. The Frenchmen may
+well boast of their freedom from wrongs done to persons or property
+in this country; no class of immigrants furnishing to the
+prisons, comparatively, fewer criminals. The natives, out of all
+proportion, are freest from crime, if the blacks be excepted, and
+when we compare the number of the convicted with the number
+of the people. Still, such results ought not to be taken as furnishing
+absolute rules by which to judge of large bodies of men;
+since unsettled lives on the one hand, and the charities of life
+on the other, may cause disproportions that would not otherwise
+exist.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><a id='corr103.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='If'>“If</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_103.29'><ins class='correction' title='If'>“If</ins></a></span> one of these skeletons be that of the German woman, and
+Dr. McBrain should prove to be right,” said John Wilmeter,
+earnestly, “what has become of the remains of Mr. Goodwin?
+There was a husband as well as a wife, in that family.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true,” answered Millington; “and I learned something
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>concerning him, too. It seems that the old fellow drank intensely,
+at times, when he and his wife made the house too hot to hold
+them. All the Burtons agreed in giving this account of the
+good couple. The failing was not generally known, and had not
+yet gone so far as to affect the old man’s general character, though
+it would seem to have been known to the immediate neighbours.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And not one word of all this, is to be found in any of the
+reports in the papers from town! Not a particle of testimony on
+the point before the inquest! Why, Mike, this single fact may
+furnish a clue to the whole catastrophe.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In what way?” Millington very quietly enquired.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Those bones are the bones of females; old Goodwin has
+robbed the house, set fire to it, murdered his wife and the German
+woman in a drunken frolic, and run away. Here is a history
+for Uncle Tom, that will delight him; for if he do not feel
+quite certain of Mary Monson’s innocence now, he would be delighted
+to learn its truth!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You make much out of a very little, Jack, and imagine far
+more than you can prove. Why should old Goodwin set fire to
+his own house—for I understand the property was his—steal his
+own money—for, though married women did then hold a separate
+estate in a bed-quilt, or a gridiron, the law could not touch
+the previous accumulations of a feme coverte—and murder a
+poor foreigner, who could neither give nor take away anything
+that the building contained? Then he is to burn his own house,
+and make himself a vagrant in his old age—and that among
+strangers! I learn he was born in that very house, and has
+passed his days in it. Such a man would not be very likely to
+destroy it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why not, to conceal a murder? Crime must be concealed,
+or it is punished.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sometimes,” returned Michael, drily. “This Mary Monson
+will be hanged, out of all question, should the case go against
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>her, for she understands French, and Italian, and German, you
+say; either of which tongues would be sufficient to hang her;
+but had old Mrs. Goodwin murdered <em>her</em>, philanthropy would
+have been up and stirring, and no rope would be stretched.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><a id='corr106.5'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='‘Millington'>“Millington</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_106.5'><ins class='correction' title='‘Millington'>“Millington</ins></a></span>, you have a way of talking, at times, that is quite
+shocking! I do wish you could correct it. What use is there
+in bringing a young lady like Miss Monson down to the level of
+a common criminal?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She will be brought down as low as that, depend on it, if
+guilty. There is no hope for one who bears about her person,
+in air, manner, speech, and deportment, the unequivocal signs of
+a lady. Our sympathies are all kept for those who are less set
+apart from the common herd. Sympathy goes by majorities, as
+well as other matters.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You think her, at all events, a lady?” said John, quickly.
+“How, then, can you suppose it possible that she has been guilty
+of the crimes of which she stands accused?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Simply, because my old-fashioned father has given me old-fashioned
+notions of the meaning of terms. So thin-skinned
+have people become lately, that even language must be perverted
+to gratify their conceit. The terms ‘gentleman’ and ‘lady’ have
+as defined meanings as any two words we possess—signifying
+persons of cultivated minds, and of certain refinements in tastes
+and manners. Morals have nothing to do with either, necessarily,
+as a ‘gentleman’ or ‘lady’ may be very wicked; nay,
+often are. It is true there are particular acts, partaking of meannesses,
+rather than anything decidedly criminal, that, by a convention,
+a gentleman or lady may not commit; but there are a
+hundred others, that are far worse, which are not prohibited. It
+is unlady-like to <em>talk</em> scandal; but it is not deemed always unlady-like
+to give grounds to scandal. Here is a bishop who has
+lately been defining a gentleman, and, as usually happens with
+such men, unless they were originally on a level with their
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>dioceses, he describes a ‘Christian,’ rather than a ‘gentleman.’
+This notion of making converts by means of enlisting our vanity
+and self-love in the cause, is but a weak one, at the best.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly, Mike; I agree with you in the main. As large
+classes of polished people do exist, who have loose enough notions
+of morals, there ought to be terms to designate them, as a class,
+as well as to give any other name, when we have the thing.
+Use has applied those of ‘gentlemen’ and ‘ladies,’ and I can see
+no sufficient reason for changing them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It comes wholly from the longings of human vanity. As a
+certain distinction is attached to the term, everybody is covetous
+of obtaining it, and all sorts of reasoning is resorted to, to drag
+them into the categories. It would be the same, if it were a
+ground of distinction to have but one ear. But this distinction
+will be very likely to make things go hard with our client, Jack,
+if the jury say ‘guilty’.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The jury never can—never <em>will</em> render such a verdict! I
+do not think the grand jury will even return a bill. Why should
+they? The testimony wouldn’t convict an old state-prison-bird.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Michael Millington smiled, a little sadly, perhaps—for John
+Wilmeter was Sarah’s only brother—but he made no reply, perceiving
+that an old negro, named Sip, or Scipio, who lived about
+the jail by a sort of sufferance, and who had now been a voluntary
+adherent of a place that was usually so unpleasant to men
+of his class for many years, was approaching, as if he were the
+bearer of a message. Sip was an old-school black, grey-headed,
+and had seen more than his three-score years and ten. No
+wonder, then, that his dialect partook, in a considerable degree,
+of the peculiarities that were once so marked in a Manhattan
+“nigger.” Unlike his brethren of the present day, he was courtesy
+itself to all “gentlemen,” while his respect for “common
+folks” was a good deal more equivocal. But chiefly did the old
+man despise “yaller fellers;” these he regarded as a mongrel
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>race, who could neither aspire to the pure complexion of the Circassian
+stock, nor lay claim to the glistening dye of Africa.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Gott, she want to see masser,” said Scipio, bowing to
+John, grinning—for a negro seldom loses his teeth—and turning
+civilly to Millington, with a respectful inclination of a head that
+was as white as snow. “Yes, sah; she want to see masser, soon
+as conbe’nent; and soon as he can come.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Now, Mrs. Gott was the wife of the sheriff, and, alas! for the
+dignity of the office! the sheriff was the keeper of the county gaol.
+This is one of the fruits born on the wide-spreading branches of
+the tree of democracy. Formerly, a New York sheriff bore a
+strong resemblance to his English namesake. He was one of the
+county gentry, and executed the duties of his office with an air
+and a manner; appeared in court with a sword, and carried with
+his name a weight and an authority, that now are nearly wanting.
+Such men would scarcely become gaolers. But that universal
+root of all evil, the love of money, made the discovery that there
+was profit to be had in feeding the prisoners, and a lower class
+of men aspired to the offices, and obtained them; since which
+time, more than half of the sheriffs of New York have been their
+own gaolers.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you know <em>why</em> Mrs. Gott wishes to see me, Scipio?” demanded
+Wilmeter.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I b’lieve, sah, dat ’e young woman, as murders ole Masser
+Goodwin and he wife, ask her to send for masser.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was plain enough, and it caused Jack a severe pang; for
+it showed how conclusively and unsparingly the popular mind
+had made up its opinion touching Mary Monson’s guilt. There
+was no time to be lost, however; and the young man hastened
+towards the building to which the gaol was attached, both standing
+quite near the court-house. In the door of what was her
+dwelling, for the time-being, stood Mrs. Gott, the wife of the
+high sheriff of the county, and the only person in all Biberry
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>who, as it appeared to John, entertained his own opinions of the
+innocence of the accused. But Mrs. Gott was, by nature, a kind
+hearted woman; and, though so flagrantly out of place in her
+united characters, was just such a person as ought to have the
+charge of the female department of a prison. Owing to the constant
+changes of the democratic principle of rotation in office,
+one of the most impudent of all the devices of a covetous envy,
+this woman had not many months before come out of the bosom
+of society, and had not seen enough of the ways of her brief
+and novel situation to have lost any of those qualities of her sex,
+such as extreme kindness, gentleness of disposition, and feminine
+feeling, that are anything but uncommon among the women of
+America. In many particulars, she would have answered the
+imaginative bishop’s description of a “lady;” but she would
+have been sadly deficient in some of the requisites that the
+opinions of the world have attached to the character. In these
+last particulars, Mary Monson, as compared with this worthy
+matron, was like a being of another race; though, as respects
+the first, we shall refer the reader to the events to be hereafter
+related, that he may decide the question according to his own
+judgment.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson has sent for you, Mr. Wilmeter,” the good
+Mrs. Gott commenced, in a low, confidential sort of tone, as if
+she imagined that she and John were the especial guardians of
+this unknown and seemingly ill-fated young woman’s fortunes.
+“She is wonderfully resigned and patient—a great deal more
+patient than I should be, if I was obliged to live in this gaol—that
+is, on the other side of the strong doors; but she told me,
+an hour ago, that she is not sure, after all, her imprisonment is
+not the very best thing that could happen to her!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That was a strange remark!” returned John. “Did she
+make it under a show of feeling, as if penitence, or any other
+strong emotion, induced her to utter it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>“With as sweet a smile, as composed a manner, and as gentle
+and soft a voice as a body ever sees, or listens to! What a wonderfully
+soft and musical voice she has, Mr. Wilmeter!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She has, indeed. I was greatly struck with it, the moment
+I heard her speak. How much like a lady, Mrs. Gott, she uses
+it,—and how correct and well-pronounced are her words!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Although Mrs. Gott and John Wilmeter had very different
+ideas, at the bottom, of the requisites to form a lady, and the
+pronunciation of the good woman was by no means faultless, she
+cordially assented to the truth of the young man’s eulogy. Indeed,
+Mary Monson, for the hour, was her great theme; and,
+though still a young woman herself, and good looking withal,
+she really seemed never to tire of uttering her praises.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She has been educated, Mr. Wilmeter, far above any female
+hereabout, unless it may be some of the ——s and ——s,”
+the good woman continued. “Those families, you know, are our
+upper crust—not upper ten thousand, as the newspapers call it,
+but upper hundred, and them ladies may know as much as Mary;
+but, beyond <em>them</em>, no female hereabouts can hold a candle to her!
+Her books have been brought in, and I looked them over—there
+isn’t more than one in three that I can read at all. What is
+more, they don’t seem to be all in one tongue, the foreign books,
+but in three or four!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She certainly has a knowledge of several of the living languages,
+and an accurate knowledge, too. I know a little of such
+things myself, but my friend Millington is quite strong in both
+the living and dead languages, and he says that what she knows
+she knows well.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is comforting—for a young lady that can speak so
+many different tongues would hardly think of robbing and murdering
+two old people, in their beds. Well, sir, perhaps you had
+better go to the door and see her, though I could stay here and
+talk about her all day. Pray Mr. Wilmeter, which of the languages
+is really dead?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>John smiled, but civilly enlightened the sheriff’s lady on this
+point, and then, preceded by her, he went to the important door
+which separated the dwelling of the family from the rooms of the
+gaol. Once opened, an imperfect communication is obtained
+with the interior of the last, by means of a grating in an inner
+door. The gaol of Dukes county is a recent construction, and is
+built on a plan that is coming much into favour, though still
+wanting in the highest proof of civilization, by sufficiently separating
+criminals, and in treating the accused with a proper degree
+of consideration, until the verdict of a jury has pronounced them
+guilty.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The construction of this gaol was very simple. A strong, low,
+oblong building had been erected on a foundation so filled in
+with stones as to render digging nearly impossible. The floors
+were of large, massive stones, that ran across the whole building
+a distance of some thirty feet, or if there were joints, they were
+under the partition walls, rendering them as secure as if solid.
+The cells were not large, certainly, but of sufficient size to admit
+of light and air. The ceilings were of the same enormous flat
+stones as the floors, well secured by a load of stones, and beams
+to brace them, and the partitions were of solid masonry. There
+the prisoner is encased in stone, and nothing can be more hopeless
+than an attempt to get out of one of these cells, provided the
+gaoler gives even ordinary attention to their condition. Above
+and around them are erected the outer walls of the gaol. The
+last comprise an ordinary stone house, with roof, windows, and
+the other customary appliances of a human abode. As these
+walls stand several feet without those of the real prison, and are
+somewhat higher, the latter axe an <span lang="la"><i>imperium in imperio</i></span>; a house
+within a house. The space between the walls of the two buildings
+forms a gallery extending around all the cells. Iron grated
+gates divide the several parts of this gallery into so many compartments,
+and in the gaol of Biberry care has been had so to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>arrange these subdivisions that those within any one compartment
+may be concealed from those in all of the others, but the two
+that immediately join it. The breezes are admitted by means of
+the external windows, while the height of the ceiling in the galleries,
+and the space above the tops of the cells, contribute largely
+to comfort and health in this important particular. As the
+doors of the cells stand opposite to the windows, the entire gaol
+can be, and usually is, made airy and light. Stoves in the galleries
+preserve the temperature, and effectually remove all disagreeable
+moisture. In a word, the place is as neat, convenient,
+and decent as the gaol of convicts need ever to be; but the proper
+sort of distinction is not attended to between them and those who
+are merely accused. Our civilization in this respect is defective.
+While the land is filled with senseless cries against an aristocracy
+which, if it exist at all, exists in the singular predicament of being
+far less favoured than the democracy, involving a contradiction
+in terms; against a feudality that consists in men’s having bargained
+to pay their debts in chickens, no one complaining in
+behalf of those who have entered into contracts to do the same in
+wheat; and against <em>rent</em>, while <em>usury</em> is not only smiled on, but
+encouraged, and efforts are made to legalize extortion; the public
+mind is quiet on the subject of the treatment of those whom the
+policy of government demands should be kept in security until
+their guilt or innocence be established. What reparation, under
+such circumstances, can be made to him to whom the gates are
+finally opened, for having been incarcerated on charges that are
+groundless? The gaols of the Christian world were first constructed
+by an irresponsible power, and to confine the weak. We
+imitate the vices of the system with a cool indifference, and shout
+“feudality” over a bantam, or a pound of butter, that are paid
+under contracted covenants for rent!</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Sir, this is the house; please it you, that I call?”</div>
+ <div class='line in29'><cite>Taming of the Shrew.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The grated window which John Wilmeter now approached, commanded
+nearly an entire view of the gallery that communicated
+with the cell of Mary Monson. It also commanded a partial
+view of the cell itself. As he looked through the grates, he saw
+how neat and comfortable the last had been made by means of
+Mrs. Gott’s care, aided, doubtless, by some of the prisoner’s
+money—that gold which was, in fact, the strongest and only
+very material circumstance against her. Mrs. Gott had put a
+carpet in the cell, and divers pieces of furniture that were useful,
+as well as two or three that were intended to be ornamental, rendering
+the otherwise gloomy little apartment tolerably cheerful.
+The gallery, much to John’s surprise, had been furnished, also.
+Pieces of new carpeting were laid on the flags, chairs and table
+had been provided, and among other articles of this nature, was
+a very respectable looking-glass. Everything appeared new, and
+as if just sent from the different shops where the various articles
+were sold. Wilmeter fancied that not less than a hundred dollars
+had been expended in furnishing that gallery. The effect was
+surprising; taking away from the place its chilling, jail-like air,
+and giving to it, what it had never possessed before, one of household
+comfort.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson was walking to and fro, in this gallery, with
+slow, thoughtful steps, her head a little bowed, and her hands
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>hanging before her, with the fingers interlocked. So completely
+was she lost in thought, that John’s footstep, or presence at the
+grate, was not observed, and he had an opportunity to watch her
+for near a minute, unseen himself. The occupation was not
+exactly excusable; but, under all the circumstances, young Wilmeter
+felt as if it might be permitted. It was his duty to ascertain
+all he fairly might, concerning his client.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It has already been said that this strange girl, extraordinary
+by her situation as a person accused of crimes so heinous, and
+perhaps still more so by her manner of bearing up against the
+terrors and mortifications of her condition, as well as by the mystery
+which so completely veiled her past life, was not a beauty,
+in the common acceptation of the term. Nevertheless, not one
+female in ten thousand would sooner ensnare the heart of a
+youth, by means of her personal attractions alone. It was not
+regularity of features, nor brilliancy of complexion, nor lustre of
+the eyes, nor any of the more ordinary charms, that gave her
+this power; but an indescribable union of feminine traits, in
+which intellectual gifts, spirit, tenderness, and modesty, were so
+singularly blended, as to leave it questionable which had the
+advantage. Her eyes were of a very gentle and mild expression,
+when in a state of rest; excited, they were capable of opening
+windows to the inmost soul. Her form was faultless; being
+the true medium between vigorous health and womanly delicacy;
+which, in this country, implies much less of the robust and solid
+than one meets with in the other hemisphere.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is not easy to tell how we acquire those in-and-in habits,
+which get to be a sort of second nature, and almost bestow on us
+new instincts. It is by these secret sympathies, these tastes that
+pervade the moral, as the nerves form a natural telegraph through
+the physical, system, that one <em>feels</em> rather than <em>sees</em>, when he is
+in the company of persons in his own class in life. Dress will
+not afford an infallible test, on such an occasion, though the daw
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>is instantly seen not to be the peacock; neither will <em>ad</em>dress, for
+the distinctive qualities lie much deeper than the surface. But
+so it is; a gentleman can hardly be brought into the company
+of man or woman, without his at once perceiving whether he or
+she belong to his own social caste or not. What is more, if a
+man of the world, he detects almost instinctively the <em>degrees</em> of
+caste, as well as the greater subdivisions, and knows whether his
+strange companions have seen much, or little; whether their
+gentility is merely the result of the great accident, with its customary
+advantages, or has been smoothed over by a liberal intercourse
+with the better classes of a general society. Most of
+all, may a travelled person be known—and that more especially
+in a provincial country, like our own—from one that has not
+travelled; though the company kept in other lands necessarily
+draws an obvious distinction between the last. Now, John Wilmeter,
+always mingling with the best society of his own country,
+had also been abroad, and had obtained that “second sight”
+which so insensibly, but certainly, increases the vision of all
+Americans who enjoy the advantage of acquiring it. What is
+more, though his years and the plans of his uncle for his future
+welfare, had prevented his staying in Europe long enough to
+receive all the benefit such a tour can bestow, he had remained
+long enough to pass beyond the study of merely physical
+things; and had made certain acquisitions in other matters, more
+essential to tastes, if not to character. When an American returns
+from an excursion into the old world, with “I come back
+better satisfied than ever with my own country,” it is an infallible
+sign that he did not stay long enough abroad; and when he
+returns only to find fault, it is equally proof that he has stayed too
+long. There is a happy medium which teaches something near
+the truth, and that would tell us that there are a thousand things
+to be amended and improved at home, while there are almost as
+many enjoyed, that the oldest and most polished people on earth
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>might envy. John Wilmeter had not reached the point that
+enabled him to make the nicest distinctions, but he was sufficiently
+advanced to have detected what he conceived to be signs
+that this singular young creature, unknown, unsupported by any
+who appeared to take an interest in her, besides himself and the
+accidental acquaintances formed under the most painful circumstances,
+had been abroad; perhaps, had been educated there.
+The regulated tones of one of the sweetest voices he had ever
+heard, the distinctness and precision of her utterance, as far as
+possible removed from mouthing and stiffness, but markedly
+quiet and even, with a total absence of all the affectations of
+boarding-school grammar, were so many proofs of even a European
+education, as he fancied; and before that week was terminated,
+John had fully made up his mind that Mary Monson—though
+an American by birth, about which there could be no
+dispute—had been well taught in some of the schools of the
+old world.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was a conclusion not reached immediately. He had to
+be favoured with several interviews, and to worm himself gradually
+into the confidence of his uncle’s client, ere he could be
+permitted to see enough of the subject of his studies to form an
+opinion so abstruse and ingenious.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>When Mary Monson caught a glimpse of John Wilmeter’s
+head at her grate—where he stood respectfully uncovered, as in
+a lady’s presence—a slight flush passed over her face; but expecting
+him, as she did, she could not well be surprised.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This bears some resemblance, Mr. Wilmeter, to an interview
+in a convent,” she then said, with a slight smile, but with perfect
+composure of manner. “I am the novice—and novice am
+I, indeed, to scenes like this—you, the excluded friend, who is
+compelled to pay his visit through a grate! I must apologize for
+all the trouble I am giving you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not name it—I cannot be better employed than in your
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>behalf. I am rejoiced that you sustain yourself so well against
+what must be a most unheard-of calamity, for one like yourself,
+and cannot but admire the admirable equanimity with which you
+bear your cruel fortune.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Equanimity!” repeated Mary with emphasis, and a slight
+display of intense feeling, powerfully controlled; “if it be so,
+Mr. Wilmeter, it must be from the sense of security that I feel.
+Yes; for the first time in months, I do feel myself safe—secure.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Safe!—Secure!—What, in a gaol?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly; gaols are intended for places of security, are they
+not?” answered Mary, smiling, but faintly and with a gleam of
+sadness on her face. “This may appear wonderful to you, but I
+do tell no more than sober truth, in repeating that, for the first
+time in months, I have now a sense of security. I am what you
+call in the hands of the law, and one there must be safe from
+everything but what the law can do to her. Of that I have no
+serious apprehensions, and I feel happy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Happy!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; by comparison, happy. I tell you this the more willingly,
+for I plainly see you feel a generous interest in my welfare—an
+interest which exceeds that of the counsel in his
+client——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A thousand times exceeds it, Miss Monson!—Nay—is not
+to be named with it!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I thank you, Mr. Wilmeter—from my heart I thank you,”
+returned the prisoner, a slight flush passing over her features,
+while her eyes were cast towards the floor. “I believe you are
+one of strong feelings and quick impulses, and am grateful that
+these have been in my favour, under circumstances that might
+well have excused you for thinking the worst. From the hints
+of this kind woman, Mrs. Gott, I am afraid that the opinion of
+Biberry is less consoling?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You must know how it is in country villages, Miss Monson,—every
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>one has something to say, and every one brings all
+things down to the level of his own knowledge and understanding.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson smiled, again; this time more naturally, and
+without any painful expression to lessen the bright influence
+that lighting up of her features gave to a countenance so remarkable
+for its appearance of illumination from within.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is not such the case in towns, as well as in villages, Mr.
+Wilmeter?” she asked.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps it is—but I mean that the circle of knowledge is
+more confined in a place like this, than in a large town, and that
+the people here could not well go beyond it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Biberry is so near New York, that I should think, taking
+class against class, no great difference can be found in their inhabitants.
+That which the good folk of Biberry think of my
+case, I am afraid will be thought of it by those of your own
+town.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<em>My</em> own town?—and are you not really from New York,
+Miss Monson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In no manner,” answered Mary, once more smiling; this
+time, however, because she understood how modestly and readily
+her companion was opening a door by which she might let a
+secret she had declined to reveal to his uncle, escape. “I am
+not what you call a Manhattanese, in either descent, birth, or
+residence; in no sense, whatever.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But, surely, you have never been educated in the country?—You
+must belong to some large town—your manners show
+that—I mean that you——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not belong to Biberry. In that you are quite right, <a id='corr117.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='sir'>sir.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_117.29'><ins class='correction' title='sir'>sir.</ins></a></span>
+I had never seen Biberry three months since; but, as for New
+York, I have not passed a month there, in my whole life. The
+longest visit I ever paid you, was one of ten days, when I landed,
+coming from Havre, about eighteen months since.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>“From Havre! Surely, you are an American, Miss Monson—our
+own countrywoman?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Your own countrywoman, Mr. Wilmeter, by birth, descent,
+and feelings. But an American female may visit Europe.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly; and be educated there, as I had already suspected
+was your case.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In part it was, and in part if was not.” Here Mary paused,
+looked a little arch, seemed to hesitate, and to have some doubts
+whether she ought to proceed, or not; but finally added—“You
+have been abroad, yourself?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have. I was nearly three years in Europe; and have not
+been home yet, quite a twelvemonth.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You went into the east, I believe, after passing a few months
+in the Pyrenees?” continued the prisoner, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are quite right; we travelled as far as Jerusalem. The
+journey has got to be so common, that it is no longer dangerous.
+Even ladies make it, now, without any apprehension.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am aware of that, having made it myself——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You, Miss Monson! You been at Jerusalem!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why not, Mr. Wilmeter? You say, yourself, that females
+constantly make the journey; why not I, as well as another?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I scarce know, myself; but it is so strange—all about you
+is so very extraordinary——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You think it extraordinary that one of my sex, who has been
+partly educated in Europe, and who has travelled in the Holy
+Land, should be shut up in this gaol in Biberry—is it not so?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is one view of the matter, I will confess; but it was
+scarcely less strange, that such a person should be dwelling
+in a garret-room of a cottage, like that of these unfortunate
+Goodwins.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That touches on my secret, sir; and no more need be said.
+You may judge how important I consider that secret, when I
+know its preservation subjects me to the most cruel distrust; and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>that, too, in the minds of those with whom I would so gladly
+stand fair. Your excellent uncle, for instance, and—yourself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should be much flattered, could I think the last—I who
+have scarcely the claim of an acquaintance.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You forget the situation in which your respectable and most
+worthy uncle has left you here, Mr. Wilmeter; which, of itself,
+gives you higher claims to my thanks and confidence than any
+that mere acquaintance could bestow. Besides, we are not”—another
+arch, but scarcely perceptible, smile again illuminated
+that remarkable countenance—“the absolute strangers to each
+other, that you seem to think us.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not strangers? You amaze me! If I have ever had the
+honour——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Honour!” interrupted Mary, a little bitterly. “It is truly
+a great honour to know one in my situation!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I esteem it an honour; and no one has a right to call in
+question my sincerity. If we have ever met before, I will
+frankly own that I am ignorant of both the time and place.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This does not surprise me, in the least. The time is long,
+for persons as young as ourselves, and the place was far away.
+Ah! those were happy days for me, and most gladly would I
+return to them! But we have talked enough on this subject.
+I have declined telling my tale to your most excellent and very
+respectable uncle; you will, therefore, the more easily excuse me,
+if I decline telling it to you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Who am not ‘most excellent and very respectable,’ to recommend
+me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Who are too near my own age, to make you a proper confidant,
+were there no other objection. The character that I learned
+of you, when we met before, Mr. Wilmeter, was, however, one
+of which you have no reason to be ashamed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was said gently, but earnestly; was accompanied by a
+most winning smile, and was instantly succeeded by a slight
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>blush. John Wilmeter rubbed his forehead, sooth to say, in a
+somewhat stupid manner, as if expecting to brighten his powers
+of recollection by friction. A sudden change was given to the
+conversation, however, by the fair prisoner herself, who quietly
+resumed—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We will defer this part of the subject to another time. I
+did not presume to send for you, Mr. Wilmeter, without an object,
+having your uncle’s authority for giving you all this trouble——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And my own earnest request to be permitted to serve you,
+in any way I could.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have not forgotten that offer, nor shall I ever. The man
+who is willing to serve a woman, whom all around her frown
+on, has a fair claim to be remembered. Good Mrs. Gott and
+yourself are the only two friends I have in Biberry. Even your
+companion, Mr. Millington, is a little disposed to judge me
+harshly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>John started; the movement was so natural, that his honest
+countenance would have betrayed him, had he been disposed to
+deny the imputation.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That Millington has fallen into the popular notion about
+here, I must allow, Miss Monson; but he is an excellent fellow
+at the bottom, and will hear reason. Prejudices that are beyond
+reason are detestable, and I generally avoid those whose characters
+manifest this weakness; but Mike will always listen to what he
+calls ‘law and facts,’ and so we get along very well together.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is fortunate; since you are about to be so nearly connected——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Connected! Is it possible that <em>you</em> know this circumstance?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You will find in the end, Mr. Wilmeter,” returned the prisoner,
+smiling—this time, naturally, as one manifests satisfaction
+without pain of any sort—“that I know more of your private
+affairs than you had supposed. But let me come to business, if
+you please, sir; I have great occasion here for a maid-servant.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>Do you not think that Miss Wilmeter might send me one from
+town?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A servant! I know the very woman that will suit you. A
+perfect jewel, in her way!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is a very housekeeper sort of a character,” rejoined
+Mary, absolutely laughing, in spite of her prison walls, and all
+the tenable charges that had brought her within them; “just
+such a character as I might have expected from Dr. McBrain’s
+intended, Mrs. Updyke——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And you know it, too! Why will you not tell us more,
+since you tell us so much?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In good time, I suppose all will come out. Well, I endeavour
+to submit to my fate; or to the will of God!” There was
+no longer anything merry, in voice, face, or manner, but a simple,
+natural pathos was singularly mixed in the tones with which
+these few words were uttered. Then rousing herself, she gravely
+resumed the subject which had induced her to send for John.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You will pardon me, if I say that I would prefer a woman
+chosen and recommended by your sister, Mr. Wilmeter, than one
+chosen and recommended by yourself,” said Mary. “When I
+shall have occasion for a footman, I will take your advice. It is
+very important that I should engage a respectable, discreet woman;
+and I will venture to write a line, myself, to Miss Wilmeter, if
+you will be so kind as to send it. I know this is not the duty
+of a counsel; but you see my situation. Mrs. Gott has offered
+to procure a girl for me, it is true; but the prejudice is so strong
+against me in Biberry, that I doubt if the proper sort of person
+could be obtained. At any rate, I should be receiving a spy into
+my little household, instead of a domestic, in whom I could place
+confidence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sarah would join me in recommending Marie, who has been
+with herself more than two years, and only left her to take care
+of her father, in his last illness. Another, equally excellent, has
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>been taken in her place; and now, that she wishes to return to
+my sister’s service, there is no opening for her. Mike Millington
+is dying to return to town, and will gladly go over this evening.
+By breakfast-time to-morrow, the woman might be here, if——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She will consent to serve a mistress in my cruel situation.
+I feel the full weight of the objection, and know how difficult it
+will be to get a female, who values her character as a servant, to
+enter on such an engagement. You called this woman Marie;
+by that, I take it she is a foreigner?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A Swiss—her parents emigrated; but I knew her in the
+service of an American family, abroad, and got her for Sarah.
+She is the best creature in the world—if she can be persuaded
+to come.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Had she been an American, I should have despaired of succeeding
+unless her feelings could have been touched; but, as
+she is a foreigner, perhaps money will procure her services.
+Should Miss Wilmeter approve of your selection, sir, I will
+intreat her to go as high as fifty dollars a month, rather than not
+get the sort of person I want. You can imagine how much importance
+I attach to success. To escape remarks and gossiping,
+the person engaged can join me as a companion, or friend, and
+not as a servant.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I will get Mike off in half an hour, and Sarah will at least
+make an effort. Yes, Marie Moulin, or Mary Mill, as the girls
+call her, is just the thing!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Marie Moulin! Is that the name of the woman? She who
+was in the service of the Barringers, at Paris? Do you mean
+<em>that</em> person—five-and-thirty, slightly pock-marked, with light
+blue eyes, and yellowish hair—more like a German, than her
+French name would give reason to expect?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The very same; and you knew her, <em>too</em>! Why not bring
+all your friends around you at once, Miss Monson, and not
+remain here an hour longer than is necessary.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>Mary was too intent on the subject of engaging the woman in
+question, to answer this last appeal. Earnestly did she resume
+her instructions, therefore, and with an eagerness of manner
+young Wilmeter had never before observed in her.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If Marie Moulin be the person meant,” she said, “I will
+spare no pains to obtain her services. Her attentions to poor
+Mrs. Barringer, in her last illness, were admirable; and we all
+loved her, I may say. Beg your sister to tell her, Mr. Wilmeter,
+that an old acquaintance, in distress, implores her assistance.
+That will bring Marie, sooner than money, Swiss though she be.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If you would write her a line, enclosing your real name, for
+we are persuaded it is not Monson, it might have more effect
+than all our solicitations, in behalf of one that is unknown.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The prisoner turned slowly from the grate, and walked up and
+down her gallery for a minute or two, as if pondering on this
+proposal. Once she smiled, and it almost gave a lustre to her
+remarkable countenance; then a cloud passed over her face, and
+once more she appeared sad.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No,” she said, stopping near the grate again, in one of her
+turns. “I will not do it—it will be risking too much. I can
+do nothing, just now, that will tell more of me than your sister
+can state.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Should Marie Moulin know you, she must recognise you
+when you meet.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It will be wiser to proceed a little in the dark. I confide
+all to your powers of negotiation, and shall remain as tranquil as
+possible, until to-morrow morning. There is still another little
+affair that I must trouble you with, Mr. Wilmeter. My gold is
+sequestered, as you know, and I am reduced to an insufficient
+amount of twos and threes. Might I ask the favour of you to
+obtain smaller notes for this, without mentioning in whose
+behalf it is done?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>While speaking, Mary handed through the grate a hundred
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>dollar note of one of the New York banks, with a manner so
+natural and unpretending, as at once to convince John Wilmeter,
+ever so willing to be persuaded into anything in her favour, that
+she was accustomed to the use of money in considerable sums;
+or, what might be considered so, for the wants and habits of a
+female. Luckily, he had nearly money enough in his wallet to
+change the note, making up a small balance that was needed, by
+drawing five half-eagles from his purse. The prisoner held the
+last, in the open palm of one of the most beautiful little hands
+the eyes of man ever rested on.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This metal has been my bane, in more ways than one, Mr.
+Wilmeter,” she said, looking mournfully at the coin. “Of one
+of its evil influences on my fate, I may not speak, now, if ever;
+but you will understand me when I say, that I fear that gold
+piece of Italian money is the principal cause of my being where
+I am.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No doubt, it has been considered one of the most material
+of the facts against you, Miss Monson; though it is by no
+means conclusive, as evidence, even with the most bitter and
+prejudiced.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hope not. Now, Mr. Wilmeter, I will detain you no
+longer; but beg you to do my commission with your sister, as
+you would do it for her with me. I would write, but my hand
+is so peculiar, it were better that I did not.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson now dismissed the young man, with the manner
+of one very familiar with the tone of good society—a term that
+it is much the fashion to ridicule just now, but which conveys a
+meaning, that it were better the scoffers understood. This she
+did, however, after again apologising for the trouble she was
+giving, and thanking him earnestly for the interest he took in
+her affairs. We believe in animal magnetism; and cannot pretend
+to say what is the secret cause of the powerful sympathy
+that is so often suddenly awakened between persons of different
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>sexes, and, in some instances, between those who are of the same
+sex; but Mary Monson, by that species of instinct that teaches
+the female where she has awakened an interest livelier than
+common, and possibly where she has not, was certainly already
+aware that John Wilmeter did not regard her with the same cool
+indifference he would have felt towards an ordinary client of his
+uncle’s. In thanking him, therefore, her own manner manifested
+a little of the reflected feeling that such a state of things is pretty
+certain to produce. She coloured, and slightly hesitated once, as
+if she paused to choose her terms with more than usual care; but,
+in the main, acquitted herself well. The parting, betrayed interest,
+perhaps feeling, on both sides; but nothing very manifest
+escaped either of our young people.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Never had John Wilmeter been at a greater loss to interpret
+facts, than he was on quitting the grate. The prisoner was truly
+the most incomprehensible being he had ever met with. Notwithstanding
+the fearful nature of the charges against her—charges
+that might well have given great uneasiness to the firmest
+man—she actually seemed in love with her prison. It is true,
+that worthy Mrs. Gott had taken from the place many of its
+ordinary, repulsive features; but it was still a gaol, and the sun
+could be seen only through grates, and massive walls separated
+her that was within, from the world without. As the young
+man was predisposed to regard everything connected with this
+extraordinary young woman <span lang="fr"><i>couleur de rose</i></span>, however, he saw
+nothing but the surest signs of innocence in several circumstances
+that might have increased the distrust of his cooler-headed uncle;
+but most persons would have regarded the gentle tranquillity
+that now seemed to soothe a spirit that had evidently been much
+troubled of late, as a sign that her hand could never have committed
+the atrocities with which she was charged.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is she not a sweet young thing, Mr. Wilmeter?” exclaimed
+kind Mrs. Gott, while locking the doors after John, on his
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>retiring from the <a id='corr126.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='grate'>grate.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_126.1'><ins class='correction' title='grate'>grate.</ins></a></span> “I consider it an honour to Biberry
+gaol, to have such a prisoner within its walls!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe that you and I stand alone in our favourable
+opinion of Miss Monson,” John answered; “so far, at least, as
+Biberry is concerned. The excitement against her seems to be
+at the highest pitch; and I much doubt whether a fair trial can
+be had in the county.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The newspapers won’t mend the matter, sir. The papers
+from town, this morning, are full of the affair, and they all
+appear to lean the same way. But it’s a long road that has no
+turning, Mr. Wilmeter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true, and nothing wheels about with a quicker step
+than the sort of public opinion that is got up under a cry, and
+runs itself out of breath, at the start. I expect to see Mary
+Monson the most approved and most extolled woman in this
+county, yet!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. Gott hoped with all her heart that it might be so, though
+<em>she</em> had, certainly, misgivings that the young man did not feel.
+Half an hour after John Wilmeter had left the gaol, his friend,
+Michael Millington, was on the road to town, carrying a letter to
+Sarah, with a most earnest request that she would use all her
+influence with Marie Moulin to engage in the unusual service
+asked of her, for a few weeks, if for no longer a period. This
+letter reached its destination in due time, and greatly did the
+sister marvel over its warmth, as well as over the nature of
+the request.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I never knew John to write so earnestly!” exclaimed Sarah,
+when she and Michael had talked over the matter a few moments.
+“Were he actually in love, I could not expect him to be more
+pressing.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I will not swear that he is not,” returned the friend, laughing.
+“He sees everything with eyes so different from mine, that
+I scarce know what to make of him. I have never known John
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>so deeply interested in any human being, as he is at this moment
+in this strange creature!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Creature! You men do not often call young ladies <em>creatures</em>,
+and my brother affirms that this Mary Monson is a lady.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly she is, so far as exterior, manner, education, and I
+suppose, tastes, are concerned. Nevertheless, there is too much
+reason to think she is, in some way unknown to us, connected
+with crime.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have read accounts of persons of these attainments, who
+have been leagued together, and have carried on a great system
+of plundering for years, with prodigious success. That, however,
+was in older countries, where the necessities of a crowded population
+drive men into extremes. We are hardly sufficiently advanced,
+or civilized as they call it, for such bold <a id='corr127.14'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='sic'>villany</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_127.14'><ins class='correction' title='sic'>villany</ins></a></span>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A suspicion of that nature has crossed my mind,” returned
+Millington, looking askance over his shoulder, as if he apprehended
+that his friend might hear him. “It will not do, however, to
+remotely hint to John anything of the sort. His mind is beyond
+the influence of testimony.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Sarah scarce knew what to make of the affair, though sisterly
+regard disposed her to do all she could to oblige her brother.
+Marie Moulin, however, was not easily persuaded into consenting
+to serve a mistress who was in prison. She held up her hands,
+turned up her eyes, uttered fifty exclamations, and declared, over
+and over again “<span lang="fr"><i>c’est impossible</i></span>;” and wondered how a female
+in such a situation could suppose any respectable domestic would
+serve her, as it would be very sure to prevent her ever getting a
+good place afterwards. This last objection struck Sarah as quite
+reasonable, and had not her brother been so very urgent with
+her, would of itself have induced her to abandon all attempt at
+persuasion. Marie, however, finally yielded to a feeling of intense
+curiosity, when no bribe in money could have bought her. John
+had said the prisoner knew her—had known her in Europe—and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>she was soon dying with the desire to know who, of all her many
+acquaintances in the old world, could be the particular individual
+who had got herself into this formidable difficulty. It was impossible
+to resist this feeling, so truly feminine, which was a good
+deal stimulated by a secret wish in Sarah, also, to learn who this
+mysterious person might be; and who did not fail to urge Marie,
+with all her rhetoric, to consent to go and, at least, see the person
+who had so strong a wish to engage her services. The Swiss had
+not so much difficulty in complying, provided she was permitted
+to reserve her final decision until she had met the prisoner, when
+she might gratify her curiosity, and return to town prepared to
+enlighten Miss Wilmeter, and all her other friends, on a subject
+that had got to be intensely interesting.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was not late, next morning, when Marie Moulin, attended
+by John Wilmeter, presented herself to Mrs. Gott, as an applicant
+for admission to the gallery of Mary Monson. The young
+man did not show himself, on this occasion; though he was near
+enough to hear the grating of the hinges when the prison-door
+opened.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“C’est bien vous donc, Marie!” said the prisoner, in a quick
+but pleased salutation.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mademoiselle!” exclaimed the Swiss. The kisses of women
+succeeded. The door closed, and John Wilmeter learned no
+more, on that occasion.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id001'>
+<img src='images/i_132.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“And can you by no drift of conference</div>
+ <div class='line'>Get from him, why he puts on this confusion—”</div>
+ <div class='line in34'><cite>Hamlet.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>There is something imaginative, if not very picturesque, in
+the manner in which the lawyers of Manhattan occupy the buildings
+of Nassau street, a thoroughfare which connects Wall street
+with the Tombs. There they throng, resembling the remains of so
+many monuments along the Appian way, with a “<span lang="la"><i>siste viator</i></span>” of
+their own, to arrest the footsteps of the wayfarer. We must now
+transfer the scene to a building in this street, which stands about
+half-way between Maiden Lane and John Street, having its front
+plastered over with little tin signs, like a debtor marked by writs,
+or what are now called “complaints.” Among these signs, which
+afforded some such pleasant reading as an almanac, was one that
+bore this simple and reasonably intelligent inscription:</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Thomas Dunscomb, 2d floor, in front.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is somewhat singular that terms as simple as those of first
+floor, second floor, &c., should not signify the same things in the
+language of the mother country, and that of this land of progress
+and liberty. Certain it is, nevertheless, that in American parlance,
+more especially in that of Manhattan, a first floor is never
+up one pair of stairs, as in London, unless indeed the flight is
+that by which the wearied foot-passenger climbs the high stoop
+to gain an entrance into the building. In other words, an English
+first floor corresponds with an American second; and, taking
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>that as the point of departure, the same difference exists throughout.
+Tom Dunscomb’s office (or offices would be the better term)
+occupied quite half of the second story of a large double house,
+that had once been the habitation of some private family of note,
+but which had long been abandoned to the occupation of these
+ministers of the law. Into those offices it has now become our
+duty to accompany one who seemed a little strange in that den
+of the profession, at the very moment he was perfectly at home.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Lawyer Dunscomb in?” demanded this person, who had a
+decided rustic mien, though his dress had a sort of legal dye on
+it, speaking to one of the five or six clerks who raised their heads
+on the stranger’s entrance.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In, but engaged in a consultation, I believe,” answered one
+who, being paid for his services, was the working clerk of the
+office; most of the others being students who get no remuneration
+for their time, and who very rarely deserve it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll wait till he is through,” returned the stranger, helping
+himself coolly to a vacant chair, and taking his seat in the midst
+of dangers that might have alarmed one less familiar with the
+snares, and quirks, and quiddities of the law. The several clerks,
+after taking a good look each at their guest, cast their eyes down
+on their books or foolscap, and seemed to be engrossed with their
+respective occupations. Most of the young men, members of
+respectable families in town, set the stranger down for a rustic
+client; but the working-clerk saw at once, by a certain self-possessed
+and shrewd manner, that the stranger was a country practitioner.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In the course of the next half hour, Daniel Lord and George
+Wood came out of the sanctum, attended as far as the door by
+Dunscomb himself. Exchanging “good morning” with his professional
+friends, the last caught a glimpse of his patient visitor,
+whom he immediately saluted by the somewhat brief and familiar
+name of Timms, inviting him instantly, and with earnestness, to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>come within the limits of the privileged. Mr. Timms complied,
+entering the <span lang="la"><i>sanctum</i></span> with the air of one who had been there
+before, and appearing to be in no manner overcome by the honour
+he enjoyed. And now, as a faithful chronicler of events, it is
+here become our painful, not to say revolting duty, to record an
+act on the part of the man who was known throughout Duke’s
+county as ’Squire Timms, which it will never do to overlook,
+since it has got to be perfectly distinctive and characteristic of
+late years, not of an individual, but of large classes who throng
+the bar, the desk, the steamboats, the taverns, the streets. A
+thousand paragraphs have been written on the subject of American
+spitting, and not one line, as we can remember, on the subject
+of an equally common and still grosser offence against the minor
+morals of the country, if decency in manners may be thus termed.
+Our meaning will be explained more fully in the narrative of the
+stranger’s immediate movements on entering the sanctum.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Take a seat, Mr. Timms,” said Dunscomb, motioning to a
+chair, while he resumed his own well-cushioned seat, and deliberately
+proceeded to light a segar, not without pressing several
+with a species of intelligent tenderness, between his thumb and
+finger. “Take a seat, sir; and take a segar.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here occurred the great <span lang="fr"><i>tour de force</i></span> in manners of ’Squire
+Timms. Considerately turning his person quartering towards his
+host, and seizing himself by the nose, much as if he had a quarrel
+with that member of his face, he blowed a blast that sounded
+sonorously, and which fulfilled all that it promised. Now a better
+mannered man than Dunscomb it would not be easy to find. He
+was not particularly distinguished for elegance of deportment, but
+he was perfectly well-bred. Nevertheless, he did not flinch before
+this broad hint from vulgarity, but stood it unmoved. To own
+the truth, so large has been the inroad from the base of society,
+within the last five-and-twenty years, on the habits of those who
+once exclusively dwelt together, that he had got hardened even
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>to <em>this</em> innovation. The fact is not to be concealed, and, as we
+intend never to touch upon the subject again, we shall say distinctly
+that Mr. Timms blowed his nose with his fingers, and that,
+in so doing, he did not innovate one half as much, to-day, on the
+usages of the Upper Ten Thousand, as he would have done had
+he blowed his nose with his thumb only, a quarter of a century
+since.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb bore this infliction philosophically; and well he
+might, for there was no remedy. Waiting for Timms to use his
+handkerchief, which was produced somewhat tardily for such an
+operation, he quietly opened the subject of their interview.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So the grand jury has actually found a bill for murder and
+arson, my nephew writes me,” Dunscomb observed, looking enquiringly
+at his companion, as if really anxious for further intelligence.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Unanimously, they tell me, Mr. Dunscomb,” answered Timms.
+“I understand that only one man hesitated, and he was brought
+round before they came into court. That piece of money damns
+our case in old Duke’s.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Money saves more cases than it damns, Timms; and no one
+knows it better than yourself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true, sir. Money may defy even the new code. Give
+me five hundred dollars, and change the proceedings to a civil
+action, and I’ll carry anything in my own county that you’ll put
+on the calendar, barring some twenty or thirty jurors I could
+name. There <em>are</em> about thirty men in the county that I can do
+nothing with—for that matter, whom I dare not approach.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How the deuce is it, Timms, that you manage your causes
+with so much success? for I remember you have given me a good
+deal of trouble in suits in which law and fact were both clearly
+enough on my <a id='corr132.30'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='side'>side.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_132.30'><ins class='correction' title='side'>side.</ins></a></span>”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose those must have been causes in which we ‘horse-shedded’
+and ‘pillowed’ a good deal.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>“Horse-shedded and pillowed! Those are legal terms of which
+I have no knowledge!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They are country phrases, sir, and country customs too, for
+that matter. A man might practise a long life in town, and know
+nothing about them. The Halls of Justice are not immaculate;
+but they can tell us nothing of horse-shedding and pillowing.
+They do business in a way of which we in the country are just
+as ignorant as you are of our mode.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have the goodness, Timms, just to explain the meaning of
+your terms, which are quite new to me. I will not swear they
+are not in the Code of Practice, but they are in neither Blackstone
+nor Kent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Horse-shedding, ’Squire Dunscomb, explains itself. In the
+country, most of the jurors, witnesses, &c., have more or less to
+do with the horse-sheds, if it’s only to see that their beasts are
+fed. Well, we keep proper talkers there, and it must be a knotty
+case, indeed, into which an ingenious hand cannot thrust a doubt
+or an argument. To be frank with you, I’ve known three pretty
+difficult suits summed up under a horse-shed in one day; and
+twice as many opened.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But how is this done?—do you present your arguments
+directly, as in court?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Lord bless you, no. In court, unless the jury happen to be
+unusually excellent, counsel have to pay some little regard to the
+testimony and the law; but, in horse-shedding, one has no need
+of either. A skilful horse-shedder, for instance, will talk a party
+to pieces, and not say a word about the case. That’s the perfection
+of the business. It’s against the law, you know, Mr. Dunscomb,
+to talk of a case before a juror—an indictable offence—but
+one may make a case of a party’s general character, of his
+means, his miserly qualities, or his aristocracy; and it will be
+hard to get hold of the talker for any of them qualities. Aristocracy,
+of late years, is a capital argument, and will suit almost
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>any state of facts, or any action you can bring. Only persuade
+the jury that the plaintiff or defendant fancies himself better than
+they are, and the verdict is certain. I got a thousand dollars in
+the Springer case, solely on that ground. Aristocracy did it! It
+is going to do us a great deal of harm in this murder and arson
+indictment.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But Mary Monson is no aristocrat—she is a stranger, and
+unknown. What privileges does she enjoy, to render her obnoxious
+to the charge of aristocracy?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“More than will do her any good. Her aristocracy does her
+almost as much harm in old Duke’s as the piece of gold. I
+always consider a cause as half lost, when there is any aristocracy
+in it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Aristocracy means exclusive political privileges in the hands
+of a few; and it means nothing else. Now, what exclusive political
+privileges does this unfortunate young woman enjoy? She
+is accused of two of the highest crimes known to the laws; is
+indicted, imprisoned, and will be tried.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, and by her <em>peers</em>,” said Timms, taking out a very respectable-looking
+box, and helping himself liberally to a pinch
+of cut tobacco. “It’s wonderful, ’Squire Dunscomb, how much
+breadth the <em>peerage</em> possesses in this country! I saw a trial, a
+year or two since, in which one of the highest intellects of the
+land was one of the parties, and in which a juror asked the judge
+to explain the meaning of the word ‘bereaved.’ <em>That</em> citizen
+had his rights referred to his peers, with a vengeance!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; the venerable maxim of the common law is, occasionally,
+a little caricatured among us. This is owing to our adhering
+to antiquated opinions after the facts in which they had their
+origin have ceased to exist. But, by your manner of treating
+the subject, Timms, I infer that you give up the aristocracy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not at all. Our client will have more risks to run on account
+of <em>that</em>, than on account of any other weak spot in her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>case. I think we might get along with the piece of gold, as a
+life is in question; but it is not quite so easy to see how we are
+to get along with the aristocracy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And this in the face of her imprisonment, solitary condition,
+friendless state, and utter dependence on strangers for her future
+fate? I see no one feature of aristocracy to reproach her
+with.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But I see a great many, and so does the neighbourhood. It
+is already getting to be the talk of half the county. In short,
+all are talking about it, but they who know better. You’ll see,
+’Squire Dunscomb, there are two sorts of aristocracy in the eyes
+of most people; <em>your</em> sort, and <em>my</em> sort. <em>Your</em> sort is a state of
+society that gives privileges and power to a few, and keeps it
+there. That is what I call old-fashioned aristocracy, about which
+nobody cares anything in this country. We have no such aristocrats,
+I allow, and consequently they don’t signify a straw.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yet they are the only true aristocrats, after all. But what,
+or who are yours.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well now, ’Squire, <em>you</em> are a sort of aristocrat yourself, in a
+certain way. I don’t know how it is—I’m admitted to the bar
+as well as you—have just as many rights—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“More, Timms, if leading jurors by the nose, and horse-shedding,
+can be accounted rights.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, more, in some respects, may be. Notwithstanding all
+this, there is a difference between us—a difference in our ways,
+in our language, in our ideas, our manner of thinking and acting,
+that sets you up above me in a way I should not like in any other
+man. As you did so much for me when a boy, sir, and carried
+me through to the bar on your shoulders, as it might be, I shall
+always look up to you; though I must say that I do not always
+like even <em>your</em> superiority.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should be sorry, Timms, if I ever so far forget my own
+great defects, as to parade unfeelingly any little advantages I
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>may happen to possess over you, or over any other man, in consequence
+of the accidents of birth and education.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You do not parade them unfeelingly, sir; you do not <em>parade</em>
+them at all. Still, they will show themselves; and they are just
+the things I do not like to look at. Now, what is true of me, is
+true of all my neighbours. We call anything aristocracy that is
+a touch above us, let it be what it may. I sometimes think
+’Squire Dunscomb is a sort of an aristocrat in the law! Now, as
+for our client, she has a hundred ways with her that are not the
+ways of Duke’s, unless you go among the tip-toppers.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The Upper Ten——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Pshaw! I know better than that myself, ’Squire. Their
+Upper Ten should be upper one, or two, to be common sense.
+Rude and untaught as I was until you took me by the hand, sir,
+I can tell the difference between those who wear kids, and ride in
+their coaches, and those who are fit for either. Our client has
+none of this, sir; and that it is which surprises me. She has no
+Union Place, or Fifth Avenue, about her; but is the true coin.
+There is one thing in particular that I’m afraid may do her
+harm.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is the true coin which usually passes with the least trouble
+from hand to hand. But what is this particular source of uneasiness?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, the client has a lady-friend——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A little exclamation from Dunscomb caused the speaker to
+pause, while the counsellor removed the segar from his mouth,
+knocked off its ashes, and appeared to ponder for a moment,
+touching the best manner of treating a somewhat delicate subject.
+At length, native frankness overcame all scruples, and he spoke
+plainly, or as the familiar instructor might be expected to address
+a very green pupil.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If you love me, Timms, never repeat that diabolical phrase
+again,” said Dunscomb, looking quite serious, however much
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>there might have been of affectation in his aspect. “It is even
+worse than Hurlgate, which I have told you fifty times I cannot
+endure. ‘Lady friend’ is infernally vulgar, and I <em>will</em> not stand
+it. You may blow your nose with your fingers, if it give you
+especial satisfaction, and you may blow out against aristocracy as
+much as you please; but you shall not talk to me about ‘lady-friends’
+or ‘Hurlgate.’ I am no dandy, but a respectable elderly
+gentleman, who professes to speak English, and who wishes to be
+addressed in his own language. Heaven knows what the country
+is coming to! There is Webster, to begin with, cramming a
+Yankee dialect down our throats for good English; then comes
+all the cant of the day, flourishing finical phrases, and new significations
+to good old homely words, and changing the very nature
+of mankind by means of terms. Last of all, is this infernal Code,
+in which the ideas are as bad as possible, and the terms still worse.
+But whom do you mean by your ‘lady-friend?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The French lady that has been with our client, now, for a
+fortnight. Depend on it, <em>she</em> will do us no good when we are on.
+She is too aristocratic altogether.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb laughed outright. Then he passed a hand across
+his brow, and seemed to muse.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All this is very serious,” he at length replied, “and is really
+no laughing matter. A pretty pass are we coming to, if the
+administration of the law is to be influenced by such things as
+these! The doctrine is openly held that the rich shall not, ought
+not to embellish their amusements at a cost that the poor cannot
+compass; and here we have a member of the bar telling us a
+prisoner shall not have justice because she has a foreign maid-servant!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A servant! Call her anything but that, ’Squire, if you wish
+for success! A prisoner accused of capital crimes, with a servant,
+would be certain to be condemned. Even the court would hardly
+stand <em>that</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>“Timms, you are a shrewd, sagacious fellow, and are apt to
+laugh in your sleeve at follies of this nature, as I well know from
+long acquaintance; and here you insist on one of the greatest of
+all the absurdities.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Things are changed in Ameriky, Mr. Dunscomb. The people
+are beginning to govern; and when they can’t do it legally, they
+do it without law. Don’t you see what the papers say about
+having operas and play-houses at the people’s prices, and the
+right to hiss? There’s Constitution for you! I wonder what
+Kent and Blackstone would say to <em>that</em>?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sure enough. They would find some novel features in a
+liberty which says a man shall not set the price on the seats in
+his own theatre, and that the hissing may be done by an audience
+in the <em>streets</em>. The facts are, Timms, that all these abuses about
+O. P.’s, and controlling other persons’ concerns under the pretence
+that the public has rights where, as a public, it has no
+rights at all, come from the reaction of a half-way liberty in other
+countries. Here, where the people are really free, having all the
+power, and where no political right is hereditary, the people
+ought, at least, to respect their own ordinances.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you not consider a theatre a public place, ’Squire Dunscomb?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In one sense it is, certainly; but not in the sense that bears
+on this pretended power over it. The very circumstance that
+the audience pay for their seats, makes it, in law as in fact, a
+matter of covenant. As for this newfangled absurdity about its
+being a duty to furnish low-priced seats for the poor, where they
+may sit and look at pretty women because they cannot see them
+elsewhere, it is scarcely worth an argument. If the rich should
+demand that the wives and daughters of the poor should be
+paraded in the pits and galleries, for <em>their</em> patrician eyes to feast
+on, a pretty clamour there would be! If the state requires cheap
+theatres, and cheap women, let the state pay for them, as it does
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>for its other wants; but, if these amusements are to be the object
+of private speculations, let private wisdom control them. I have
+no respect for one-sided liberty, let it cant as much as it may.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, I don’t know, sir; I have read some of these articles,
+and they seemed to me——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What—convincing?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps not just that, ’Squire; but very <em>agreeable</em>. I’m
+not rich enough to pay for a high place at an opera or a theatre;
+and it is pleasant to fancy that a poor feller can get one of the
+best seats at half-price. Now, in England, they tell me, the
+public won’t stand prices they don’t like.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Individuals of the public may refuse to purchase, and there
+their rights cease. An opera, in particular, is a very expensive
+amusement; and in all countries where the rates of admission
+are low, the governments contribute to the expenditures. This
+is done from policy, to keep the people quiet, and possibly to
+help civilize them; but, if we are not far beyond the necessity of
+any such expedients, our institutions are nothing but a sublime
+mystification.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is wonderful, ’Squire, how many persons see the loose
+side of democracy, who have no notion of the tight! But, all
+this time, our client is in gaol at Biberry, and must be tried next
+week. Has nothing been done, ’Squire, to choke off the newspapers,
+who have something to say about her almost every day.
+It’s quite time the other side should be heard.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is very extraordinary that the persons who control these
+papers should be so indifferent to the rights of others as to allow
+such paragraphs to find a place in their columns.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Indifferent! What do they care, so long as the journal sells?
+In our case, however, I rather suspect that a certain reporter has
+taken offence; and when men of that class get offended, look out
+for news of the colour of their anger. Isn’t it wonderful, ’Squire
+Dunscomb, that the people don’t see and feel that they are sustaining
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>low tyrants, in two-thirds of their silly clamour about
+the liberty of the press?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Many do see it; and I think this engine has lost a great
+deal of its influence within the last few years. As respects proceedings
+in the courts, there never will be any true liberty in the
+country, until the newspapers are bound hand and foot.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are right enough in one thing, ’Squire, and that is in
+the ground the press has lost. It has pretty much used itself up
+in Duke’s; and I would pillow and horse-shed a cause through
+against it, the best day it ever saw!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By the way, Timms, you have not explained the pillowing
+process to me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should think the word itself would do that, sir. You
+know how it is in the country. Half a dozen beds are put in the
+same room, and two in a bed. Waal, imagine three or four jurors
+in one of these rooms, and two chaps along with ’em, with instructions
+how to talk. The conversation is the most innocent
+and nat’ral in the world; not a word too much or too little; but
+it sticks like a bur. The juror is a plain, simple-minded countryman,
+and swallows all that his room-mates say, and goes into the
+box next day in a beautiful frame of mind to listen to reason and
+evidence! No, no; give me two or three of these pillow-counsellors,
+and I’ll undo all that the journals can do, in a single
+conversation. You’ll remember, ’Squire, that we get the last
+word by this system; and if the first blow is half the battle in
+war, the last word is another half in the law. Oh! it’s a beautiful
+business, is this trial by jury.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All this is very wrong, Timms. For a long time I have
+known that you have exercised an extraordinary influence over
+the jurors of Duke’s; but this is the first occasion on which you
+have been frank enough to reveal the process.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Because this is the first occasion on which we have ever had
+a capital case together. In the present state of public opinion
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>in Duke’s, I much question whether we can get a jury empannelled
+in this trial at all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The Supreme Court will then send us to town, by way of
+mending the matter. Apropos, Timms——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“One word if you please, ’Squire; what does <i>à propos</i> really
+mean? I hear it almost every day, but never yet knew the
+meaning.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It has shades of difference in its signification—as I just used
+it, it means ‘speaking of <em>that</em>.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And is it right to say à propos <em>to</em> such a thing?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is better to say à propos <em>of</em>, as the French do. In old
+English it was always <em>to</em>; but in our later mode of speaking, we
+say ‘of.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Thank you, sir. You know how I glean my knowledge in
+driblets; and out in the country not always from the highest
+authorities. Plain and uncouth as I know I appear to you, and
+to Miss Sarah, I have an ambition to be a gentleman. Now, I
+have observation enough to see that it is these little matters, after
+all, and not riches and fine clothes, that make gentlemen and
+ladies.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am glad you have so much discrimination, Timms; but,
+you must permit me to remark, that you will never make a gentleman
+until you learn to let your nose alone.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Thank you, sir—I am thankful for even the smallest hints
+on manners. It’s a pity that so handsome and so agreeable a
+young lady should be hanged, Mr. Dunscomb!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Timms, you are as shrewd a fellow, in your own way, as I
+know. Your law does not amount to any great matter, nor do
+you take hold of the strong points of a case very often; but you
+perform wonders with the weaker. In the way of an opinion on
+facts, I know few men more to be relied on. Tell me, then,
+frankly, what do you think of the guilt or innocence of Mary
+Monson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>Timms screwed up his mouth, passed a hand over his brow,
+and did not answer for near a minute.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps it is right, after all, that we should understand each
+other on this subject,” he then said. “We are associated as
+counsel, and I feel it a great honour to be so associated, ’Squire
+Dunscomb, I give you my word; and it is proper that we should
+be as free with each other as brothers. In the first place, then,
+I never saw such a client before, as this same lady—for lady I
+suppose we must call her until she is convicted——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Convicted!—You cannot think there is much danger of <em>that</em>,
+Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We never know, sir; we never know. I have lost cases of
+which I was sure, and gained them of which I had no hopes—cases
+which I certainly ought not to have gained—ag’in all law
+and the facts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, that came of the horse-shed, and the sleeping of two in
+a bed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps it did, ’Squire,” returned Timms, laughing very
+freely, though without making any noise; “perhaps it did. When
+the small-pox is about, there is no telling who may take it. As
+for this case, ’Squire Dunscomb, it is my opinion we shall have
+to run for disagreements. If we can get the juries to disagree
+once or twice, and can get a change of <em>venue</em>, with a couple of
+charges, the deuce is in it if a man of your experience don’t
+corner them so tightly, they’ll give the matter up, rather than
+have any more trouble about it. After all, the state can’t gain
+much by hanging a young woman that nobody knows, even if
+she be a little aristocratical. We must get her to change her
+dress altogether, and some of her ways too; which, in her circumstances,
+I call downright hanging ways; and the sooner she is
+rid of them, the better.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I see that you do not think us very strong on the merits,
+Timms, which is as much as admitting the guilt of our client. I
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>was a good deal inclined to suspect the worst myself; but two or
+three more interviews, and what my nephew Jack Wilmeter tells
+me, have produced a change. I am now strongly inclined to
+believe her innocent. She has some great and secret cause of
+apprehension, I will allow; but I do not think these unfortunate
+Goodwins have anything to do with it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Waal, one never knows. The verdict, if ‘not guilty,’ will
+be just as good as if she was as innocent as a child a year old.
+I see how the work is to be done. All the law, and the summing
+up, will fall to your share; while the outdoor work will be mine.
+We <em>may</em> carry her through—though I’m of opinion that, if we
+do, it will be more by means of bottom than by means of foot.
+There is one thing that is very essential, sir—the money must
+hold out.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you want a refresher so soon, Timms?—Jack tells
+me that she has given you two hundred and fifty dollars
+already!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I acknowledge it, sir; and a very respectable fee it is—<em>you</em>
+ought to have a thousand, ’Squire.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have not received a cent, nor do I mean to touch any of
+her money. My feelings are in the case, and I am willing to
+work for nothing.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms gave his old master a quick but scrutinizing glance.
+Dunscomb was youthful, in all respects, for his time of life; and
+many a man has loved, and married, and become the parent of a
+flourishing family, who had seen all the days he had seen. That
+glance was to inquire if it were possible that the uncle and nephew
+were likely to be rivals, and to obtain as much knowledge
+as could be readily gleaned in a quick, jealous look. But the
+counsellor was calm as usual, and no tinge of colour, no sigh, no
+gentleness of expression, betrayed the existence of the master
+passion. It was reported among the bachelor’s intimates that
+formerly, when he was about five-and-twenty, he had had an
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>affair of the heart, which had taken such deep hold that even
+the lady’s marriage with another man had not destroyed its impression.
+That marriage was said not to have been happy, and
+was succeeded by a second, that was still less so; though the
+parties were affluent, educated, and possessed all the means that
+are commonly supposed to produce felicity. A single child was
+the issue of the first marriage, and its birth had shortly preceded
+the separation that followed. Three years later the father died,
+leaving the whole of a very ample fortune to this child, coupled
+with the strange request that Dunscomb, once the betrothed of
+her mother, should be the trustee and guardian of the daughter.
+This extraordinary demand had not been complied with, and
+Dunscomb had not seen any of the parties from the time he
+broke with his mistress. The heiress married young, died within
+the year, and left another heiress; but no further allusion to our
+counsellor was made, in any of the later wills and settlements.
+Once, indeed, he had been professionally consulted concerning
+the devises in favour of the granddaughter—a certain Mildred
+Millington—who was a second-cousin to Michael of that name,
+and as rich as he was poor. For some years, a sort of vague
+expectation prevailed that those two young Millingtons might
+marry; but a feud existed in the family, and little or no intercourse
+was permitted. The early removal of the young lady to
+a distant school prevented such a result; and Michael, in due
+time, fell within the influence of Sarah Wilmeter’s gentleness,
+beauty, and affection.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms came to the conclusion that his old master was not in
+love.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is very convenient to be rich, ’Squire,” this singular being
+remarked; “and I dare say it may be very pleasant to practise
+for nothing, when a man has his pocket full of money. I am
+poor, and have particular satisfaction in a good warm fee. By
+the way, sir, my part of the business requires plenty of money
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>I do not think I can even commence operations with less than
+five hundred dollars.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb leaned back, stretched forth an arm, drew his
+cheque-book from its niche, and filled a cheque for the sum just
+mentioned. This he quietly handed to Timms, without asking
+for any receipt; for, while he knew that his old student and
+fellow-practitioner was no more to be trusted in matters of practice
+than was an eel in the hand, he knew that he was scrupulously
+honest in matters of account. There was not a man in
+the state to whom Dunscomb would sooner confide the care of
+uncounted gold, or the administration of an estate, or the payment
+of a legacy, than this very individual; who, he also well
+knew, would not scruple to set all the provisions of the law at
+naught, in order to obtain a verdict, when his feelings were really
+in the case.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There, Timms,” said the senior counsel, glancing at his
+draft before he handed it to the other, in order to see that it was
+correct; “there is what you ask for. Five hundred for expenses,
+and half as much as a fee.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Thank you, sir. I hope this is not gratuitous, as well as the
+services?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is not. There is no want of funds, and I am put in possession
+of sufficient money to carry us through with credit; but
+it is as a trustee, and not as a fee. This, indeed, is the most
+extraordinary part of the whole affair;—to find a delicate, educated,
+accomplished lady, with her pockets well lined, in such a
+situation!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, ’Squire,” said Timms, passing his hand down his
+chin, and trying to look simple and disinterested, “I am afraid
+clients like ours are often flush. I have been employed about
+the Tombs a good deal in my time, and I have gin’rally found
+that the richest clients were the biggest rogues.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>Dunscomb gave his companion a long and contemplative look.
+He saw that Timms did not entertain quite as favourable an
+opinion of Mary Monson as he did himself, or rather that he was
+fast getting to entertain; for his own distrust originally was
+scarcely less than that of this hackneyed dealer with human vices.
+A long, close, and stringent examination of all of Timms’s facts
+succeeded—facts that had been gleaned by collecting statements
+on the spot. Then a consultation followed, from which it might
+be a little premature, just now, to raise the veil.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in8'>“—–Her speech is nothing,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Yet the unshaped use of it doth move</div>
+ <div class='line'>The hearers to collection. They aim at it,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts.”</div>
+ <div class='line in36'><cite>Hamlet.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The reader is not to be surprised at the intimacy which existed
+between Thomas Dunscomb and the half-educated semi-rude being
+who was associated with him as counsel in the important cause
+that was now soon to be tried. Such intimacies are by no means
+uncommon in the course of events; men often overlooking great
+dissimilarities in principles, as well as in personal qualities, in
+managing their associations, so far as they are connected with
+the affairs of this world. The circumstance that Timms had
+studied in our counsellor’s office would, as a matter of course,
+produce certain relations between them in after-life; but the
+student had made himself useful to his former master on a great
+variety of occasions, and was frequently employed by him whenever
+there was a cause depending in the courts of Duke’s, the
+county in which the unpolished, half-educated, but hard-working
+and successful county practitioner had established himself. It
+may be questioned if Dunscomb really knew all the agencies set
+in motion by his coadjutor in difficult cases; but, whether he did
+or not, it is quite certain that many of them were of a character
+not to see the light. It is very much the fashion of our good
+republic to turn up its nose at all other lands, a habit no doubt
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>inherited from our great ancestors the English; and one of its
+standing themes of reproach are the legal corruptions and abuses
+known to exist in France, Spain, Italy, &c.; all over the world,
+in short, except among ourselves. So far as the judges are concerned,
+there is a surprising adherence to duty, when bribes alone
+are concerned, no class of men on earth being probably less obnoxious
+to just imputations of this character than the innumerable
+corps of judicial officers; unpaid, poor, hard-worked, and we
+might almost add unhonoured, as they are. That cases in which
+bribes are taken do occur, we make no doubt; it would be
+assuming too much in favour of human nature to infer the contrary;
+but, under the system of publicity that prevails, it would
+not be easy for this crime to extend very far without its being
+exposed. It is greatly to the credit of the vast judicial corps of
+the States, that bribery is an offence which does not appear to be
+even suspected at all; or, if there be exceptions to the rule, they
+exist in but few and isolated cases. Here, however, our eulogies
+on American justice must cease. All that Timms has intimated
+and Dunscomb has asserted concerning the juries is true; and
+the evil is one that each day increases. The tendency of everything
+belonging to the government is to throw power directly
+into the hands of the people, who, in nearly all cases, use it as
+men might be supposed to do who are perfectly irresponsible,
+have only a remote, and half the time an invisible interest in its
+exercise; who do not feel or understand the consequences of their
+own deeds, and have a pleasure in asserting a seeming independence,
+and of appearing to think and act for themselves. Under
+such a regime it is self-apparent that principles and law must
+suffer; and so the result proves daily, if not hourly. The institution
+of the jury, one of very questionable utility in its best
+aspects in a country of really popular institutions, becomes nearly
+intolerable, unless the courts exercise a strong and salutary influence
+on the discharge of its duties. This influence, unhappily, has
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>been gradually lessening among us for the last half century, until
+it has reached a point where nothing is more common than to
+find the judge charging the law one way, and the jury determining
+it another. In most cases, it is true, there is a remedy for this
+abuse of power, but it is costly, and ever attended with that delay
+in hope “which maketh the heart sick.” Any one, of even the
+dullest apprehension, must, on a little reflection, perceive that a
+condition of things in which the <em>ends</em> of justice are defeated, or
+so procrastinated as to produce the results of defeat, is one of the
+least desirable of all those in which men can be placed under the
+social compact; to say nothing of its corrupting and demoralizing
+effects on the public mind.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this Dunscomb saw, more vividly, perhaps, than most
+others of the profession, for men gradually get to be so accustomed
+to abuses as not only to tolerate them, but to come to
+consider them as evils inseparable from human frailty. It was
+certain, however, that while our worthy counsellor so far submitted
+to the force of things as frequently to close his eyes to
+Timms’s manœuvres, a weakness of which nearly every one is
+guilty who has much to do with the management of men and
+things, he was never known to do aught himself that was unworthy
+of his high standing and well-merited reputation at the
+bar. There is nothing unusual in this convenient compromise
+between direct and indirect relations with that which is wrong.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It had early been found necessary to employ local counsel in
+Mary Monson’s case, and Timms was recommended by his old
+master as one every way suited to the particular offices needed.
+Most of the duties to be performed were strictly legal; though it
+is not to be concealed that some soon presented themselves that
+would not bear the light. John Wilmeter communicated to
+Timms the particular state of the testimony, as he and Michael
+Millington had been enabled to get at it; and among other things
+he stated his conviction that the occupants of the farm nearest to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>the late dwelling of the Goodwins were likely to prove some of
+the most dangerous of the witnesses against their client. This
+family consisted of a sister-in-law, the Mrs. Burton already mentioned,
+three unmarried sisters, and a brother, who was the husband
+of the person first named. On this hint Timms immediately
+put himself in communication with these neighbours, concealing
+from them, as well as from all others but good Mrs. Gott, that
+he was retained in the case at all.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms was soon struck with the hints and half-revealed statements
+of the persons of this household; more especially with
+those of the female portion of it. The man appeared to him to
+have observed less than his wife and sisters; but even he had
+much to relate, though, as Timms fancied, more that he had
+gleaned from those around him, than from his own observations.
+The sisters, however, had a good deal to say; while the wife, though
+silent and guarded, seemed to this observer, as well as to young
+Millington, to know the most. When pressed to tell all, Mrs.
+Burton looked melancholy and reluctant, frequently returning to
+the subject of her own accord when it had been casually dropped,
+but never speaking explicitly, though often invited so to do. It
+was not the cue of the counsel for the defence to drag out unfavourable
+evidence; and Timms employed certain confidential
+agents, whom he often used in the management of his causes, to
+sift this testimony as well as it could be done without the constraining
+power of the law. The result was not very satisfactory,
+in any sense, more appearing to be suppressed than was related.
+It was feared that the legal officers of the State would meet with
+better success.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The investigations of the junior counsel did not end here. He
+saw that the public sentiment was setting in a current so strongly
+against Mary Monson, that he soon determined to counteract it,
+as well as might be, by producing a reaction. This is a very
+common, not to say a very powerful agent, in the management
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>of all interests that are subject to popular opinion, in a democracy.
+Even the applicant for public favour is none the worse
+for beginning his advances by “a little aversion,” provided he
+can contrive to make the premeditated change in his favour take
+the aspect of a reaction. It may not be so easy to account for
+this caprice of the common mind, as it is certain that it exists.
+Perhaps we like to yield to a seeming generosity, have a pleasure
+in appearing to pardon, find a consolation for our own secret
+consciousness of errors, in thus extending favour to the errors
+of others, and have more satisfaction in preferring those who are
+fallible, than in exalting the truly upright and immaculate; if,
+indeed, any such there be. Let the cause be what it may, we
+think the facts to be beyond dispute; and so thought Timms
+also, for he no sooner resolved to counteract one public opinion
+by means of another, than he set about the task with coolness
+and intelligence—in short, with a mixture of all the good and
+bad qualities of the man.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The first of his measures was to counteract, as much as he
+could, the effects of certain paragraphs that had appeared in
+some of the New York journals. A man of Timms’s native
+shrewdness had no difficulty in comprehending the more vulgar
+moral machinery of a daily press. Notwithstanding its ‘we’s,’
+and its pretension to represent public opinion, and to protect the
+common interests, he thoroughly understood it was merely one
+mode of advancing the particular views, sustaining the personal
+schemes, and not unfrequently of gratifying the low malignity of
+a single individual; the press in America differing from that of
+nearly all other countries in the fact that it is not controlled by associations,
+and does not reflect the decisions of many minds, or contend
+for principles that, by their very character, have a tendency
+to elevate the thoughts. There are some immaterial exceptions as
+relates to the latter characteristic, perhaps, principally growing
+out of the great extra-constitutional question of slavery, that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>has quite unnecessarily been drawn into the discussions of the
+times through the excited warmth of zealots; but, as a rule, the
+exciting political questions that elsewhere compose the great
+theme of the newspapers, enlarging their views, and elevating
+their articles, may be regarded as settled among ourselves. In
+the particular case with which Timms was now required to
+deal, there was neither favour nor malice to counteract. The
+injustice, and a most cruel injustice it was, was merely in catering
+to a morbid desire for the marvellous in the vulgar, which
+might thus be turned to profit.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Among the reporters there exists the same diversity of qualities
+as among other men, beyond a question; but the tendency
+of the use of all power is to abuse; and Timms was perfectly
+aware that these men had far more pride in the influence they
+wielded, than conscience in its exercise. A ten or a twenty dollar
+note, judiciously applied, would do a great deal with this “Palladium
+of our Liberties,”—there being at least a dozen of these
+important safeguards interested in the coming trial—our associate
+counsel very well knew; and Dunscomb suspected that some
+such application of the great persuader had been made, in consequence
+of one or two judicious and well-turned paragraphs that
+appeared soon after the consultation. But Timms’s management
+of the press was mainly directed to that of the county newspapers.
+There were three of these; and as they had better characters
+than most of the Manhattanese journals, so were they
+more confided in. It is true, that the whig readers never heeded
+in the least anything that was said in “The Duke’s County Democrat;”
+but the friends of the last took their revenge in discrediting
+all that appeared in the columns of the Biberry Whig. In
+this respect, the two great parties of the country were on a par;
+each manifesting a faith that, in a better cause, might suffice to
+move mountains; and, on the other hand, an unbelief that drove
+them into the dangerous folly of disregarding their foes. As
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>Mary Monson had nothing to do with politics, it was not difficult
+to get suitable paragraphs inserted in the hostile columns, which
+was also done within eight-and-forty hours after the return of the
+junior counsel to his own abode.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms, however, was far from trusting to the newspapers
+alone. He felt that it might be well enough to set ‘fire to fight
+fire;’ but his main reliance was on the services that could be rendered
+by a timely and judicious use of “the little member.”
+<em>Talkers</em> was what he wanted; and well did he know where to
+find them, and how to get them at work. A few he paid in a
+direct, business-like way; taking no vouchers for the sums bestowed,
+the reader may be assured; but entering each item carefully
+in a little memorandum-book kept for his own private information.
+These strictly confidential agents went to work with
+experienced discretion but great industry, and soon had some ten
+or fifteen fluent female friends actively engaged in circulating
+“They says,” in their respective neighbourhoods.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms had reflected a great deal on the character of the
+defence it might be most prudent to get up and enlarge on. Insanity
+had been worn out by too much use of late; and he scarce
+gave that plea a second thought. This particular means of defence
+had been discussed between him and Dunscomb, it is true;
+but each of the counsel felt a strong repugnance against resorting
+to it; the one on account of his indisposition to rely on anything
+but the truth; the other, to use his own mode of expressing himself
+on the occasion in question, because he “believed that jurors
+could no longer be humbugged with that plea. There have been
+all sorts of madmen and madwomen—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Gentlemen and lady murderers”—put in Dunscomb, drily.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I ask your pardon, ’Squire; but, since you give me the use
+of my nose, I will offend as little as possible with the tongue—though,
+I rather conclude”—a form of expression much in
+favour with Timms—“that should our verdict be ‘guilty,’ you
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>will be disposed to allow there may be one lady criminal in the
+world.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She is a most extraordinary creature, Timms; bothers me
+more than any client I ever had!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Indeed! Waal, I had set her down as just the contrary—for
+to me she seems to be as unconcerned as if the wise four-and-twenty
+had not presented her to justice in the name of the people.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is not in that sense that I am bothered—no client ever
+gave counsel less trouble than Mary Monson in that respect. To
+me, Timms, she does not appear to have any concern in reference
+to the result.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Supreme innocence, or a well-practised experience. I have
+defended many a person whom I knew to be guilty, and two or
+three whom I believed to be innocent; but never before had as
+cool a client as this!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>And very true was this. Even the announcement of the presentment
+by the grand jury appeared to give Mary Monson no
+great alarm. Perhaps she anticipated it from the first, and had
+prepared herself for the event, by an exercise of a firmness little
+common to her sex until the moments of extreme trial, when
+their courage would seem to rise with the occasion. On her
+companion, whom Timms had so elegantly styled her ‘Lady
+Friend,’ certainly as thoroughly vulgar an expression as was ever
+drawn into the service of the heroics in gentility, warm-hearted
+and faithful Marie Moulin, the intelligence produced far more
+effect. It will be remembered that Wilmeter overheard the
+single cry of “Mademoiselle” when this Swiss was first admitted
+to the gaol; after which an impenetrable veil closed around their
+proceedings. The utmost good feeling and confidence were apparent
+in the intercourse between the young mistress and her maid;
+if, indeed, Marie might thus be termed, after the manner in which
+she was treated. So far from being kept at the distance which it
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>is usual to observe towards an attendant, the Swiss was admitted
+to Mary Monson’s table; and to the eyes of indifferent observers
+she might very well pass for what Timms had so elegantly called
+a “lady friend.” But Jack Wilmeter knew too much of the
+world to be so easily misled. It is true, that when he paid his
+short visits to the gaol, Marie Moulin sat sewing at the prisoner’s
+side, and occasionally she even hummed low, national
+airs while he was present; but knowing the original condition
+of the maid-servant, our young man was not to be persuaded that
+his uncle’s client was her peer, any more than were the jurors
+who, agreeably to that profound mystification of the common law,
+are thus considered and termed. Had not Jack Wilmeter known
+the real position of Marie Moulin, her “Mademoiselle” would
+have let him deeper into the secrets of the two than it is probable
+either ever imagined. This word, in common with those of
+“Monsieur” and “Madame,” are used, by French servants, differently
+from what they are used in general society. Unaccompanied
+by the names, the domestics of France commonly and
+exclusively apply them to the heads of families, or those they
+more immediately serve. Thus, it was far more probable that
+Marie Moulin, meeting a mere general acquaintance in the prisoner,
+would have called her “Mademoiselle Marie,” or “Mademoiselle
+Monson,” or whatever might be the name by which she
+had known the young lady, than by the general and still more
+respectful appellation of “Mademoiselle.” On this peculiarity
+of deportment Jack Wilmeter speculated profoundly; for a young
+man who is just beginning to submit to the passion of love is
+very apt to fancy a thousand things that he would never dream
+of seeing in his cooler moments. Still, John had fancied himself
+bound in the spells of another, until this extraordinary client of
+his uncle’s so unexpectedly crossed his path. Such is the human
+heart.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Good and kind-hearted Mrs. Gott allowed the prisoner most
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>of the privileges that at all comported with her duty. Increased
+precautions were taken for the security of the accused, as soon as
+the presentment of the grand jury was made, by a direct order
+from the court; but, these attended to, it was in the power of her
+whom Timms might have called the “lady sheriff,” to grant a
+great many little indulgences, which were quite cheerfully accorded,
+and, to all appearances, as gratefully accepted.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>John Wilmeter was permitted to pay two regular visits at the
+grate each day, and as many more as his ingenuity could invent
+plausible excuses for making. On all occasions Mrs. Gott opened
+the outer door with the greatest good will; and, like a true woman
+as she is, she had the tact to keep as far aloof from the barred
+window where the parties met, as the dimensions of the outer room
+would allow. Marie Moulin was equally considerate, generally
+plying her needle at such times, in the depth of the cell, with
+twice the industry manifested on other occasions. Nevertheless,
+nothing passed between the young people that called for this delicate
+reserve. The conversation, it is true, turned as little as
+possible on the strange and awkward predicament of one of the
+colloquists, or the employment that kept the young man at
+Biberry. Nor did it turn at all on love. There is a premonitory
+state in these attacks of the heart, during which skilful observers
+may discover the symptoms of approaching disease, but which do
+not yet betray the actual existence of the epidemic. On the part
+of Jack himself, it is true that these symptoms were getting to
+be not only somewhat apparent, but they were evidently fast
+becoming more and more distinct; while, on the part of the
+lady, any one disposed to be critical might have seen that her
+colour deepened, and there were signs of daily increasing interest
+in them, as the hours for these interviews approached. She was
+interested in her young legal adviser; and interest, with women,
+is the usual precursor of the master-passion. Wo betide the
+man who cannot interest, but who only amuses!</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>Although so little to the point was said in the short dialogues
+between Wilmeter and Mary Monson, there were dialogues held
+with the good Mrs. Gott, by each of the parties respectively, in
+which less reserve was observed; and the heart was permitted to
+have more influence over the movements of the tongue. The
+first of these conversations that we deem it necessary to relate,
+that took place after the presentment, was one that immediately
+succeeded an interview at the barred window, and which occurred
+three days subsequently to the consultation in town, and two
+after Timms’s machinery was actively at work in the county.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, how do you find her spirits to-day, Mr. Wilmington?”
+asked Mrs. Gott, kindly, and catching the conventional sound of
+the young man’s name, from having heard it so often in the
+mouth of Michael Millington. “It is an awful state for any
+human being to be in, and she a young, delicate woman; to be
+tried for murder, and for setting fire to a house, and all so
+soon!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The most extraordinary part of this very extraordinary business,
+Mrs. Gott,” Jack replied, “is the perfect indifference of
+Miss Monson to her fearful jeopardy! To me, she seems much
+more anxious to be closely immured in gaol, than to escape from
+a trial that one would think, of itself, might prove more than so
+delicate a young lady could bear up against.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true, Mr. Wilmington; and she never seems to think
+of it at all! You see what she has done, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Done!—Nothing in particular, I hope?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I don’t know what <em>you</em> call particular; but to me it does
+seem to be remarkably particular. Didn’t you hear a piano, and
+another musical instrument, as you approached the gaol?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did, certainly, and wondered who could produce such admirable
+music in Biberry.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Biberry has a great many musical ladies, I can tell you, Mr.
+Wilmington,” returned Mrs. Gott, a little coldly, though her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>good-nature instantly returned, and shone out in one of her most
+friendly smiles; “and those, too, that have been to town and
+heard all the great performers from Europe, of whom there have
+been so many of late years. I have heard good judges say that
+Duke’s county is not much behind the Island of Manhattan with
+the piano in particular.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I remember, when at Rome, to have heard an Englishman
+say that some young ladies from Lincolnshire were astonishing
+the Romans with their Italian accent, in singing Italian operas,”
+answered Jack, smiling. “There is no end, my dear Mrs. Gott,
+to provincial perfection in all parts of the world.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe I understand you, but I am not at all offended at
+your meaning. We are not very sensitive about the gaols. One
+thing I will admit, however; Mary Monson’s harp is the first, I
+rather think, that was ever heard in Biberry. Gott tells me”—this
+was the familiar manner in which the good woman spoke of
+the <em>high</em> sheriff of Duke’s, as the journals affectedly call that
+functionary—“that he once met some German girls strolling
+about the county, playing and singing for money, and who had
+just such an instrument, but not one-half as elegant; and it has
+brought to my mind a suspicion that Mary Monson may be one
+of these travelling musicians.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What? to stroll about the country, and play and sing in the
+streets of villages!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, not that; I see well enough she cannot be of <em>that</em> sort.
+But, there are all descriptions of musicians, as well as all descriptions
+of doctors and lawyers, Mr. Wilmington. Why may
+not Mary Monson be one of these foreigners who get so rich by
+singing and playing? She has just as much money as she wants,
+and spends it freely too. This I know, from seeing the manner
+in which she uses it. For my part, I wish she had less music
+and less money just now; for they are doing her no great good
+in Biberry!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>“Why not? Can any human being find fault with melody
+and a liberal spirit?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Folks will find fault with anything, Mr. Wilmington, when
+they have nothing better to do. You know how it is with our
+villagers here, as well as I do. Most people think Mary Monson
+guilty, and a few do not. Those that think her guilty say it is
+insolent in her to be singing and playing in the very gaol in
+which she is confined; and talk loud against her for that very
+reason.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Would they deprive her of a consolation as innocent as that
+she obtains from her harp and her piano, in addition to her other
+sufferings! Your Biberry folk must be particularly hard-hearted,
+Mrs. Gott.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Biberry people are like York people, and American people,
+and English people, and all other people, I fancy, if the truth
+was known, Mr. Wilmington. What they don’t like they disapprove
+of, that’s all. Now, was I one of them that believe Mary
+Monson did actually murder the Goodwins, and plunder their
+drawers, and set fire to their house, it would go ag’in <em>my</em> feelings
+too, to hear her music, well as she plays, and sweet as she draws
+out the sounds from those wires. Some of our folks take the
+introduction of the harp into the gaol particularly hard!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why that instrument more than another? It was the one
+on which David played.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They say it <em>was</em> David’s favourite, and ought only to be
+struck to religious words and sounds.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is a little surprising that your excessively conscientious
+people so often forget that charity is the chiefest of all the Christian
+graces.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They think that the love of God comes first, and that they
+ought never to lose sight of his honour and glory. But I agree
+with you, Mr. Wilmington; ‘feel for your fellow-creatures’ is
+my rule; and I’m certain I am then feeling for my Maker.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>Yes; many of the neighbours insist that a harp is unsuited to a
+gaol, and they tell me that the instrument on which Mary Monson
+plays is a real antique.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Antique! What, a harp made in remote ages?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, I don’t mean that exactly,” returned Mrs. Gott, colouring
+a little; “but a harp made so much like those used by the
+Psalmist, that one could not tell them apart.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I dare say David had many varieties of stringed instruments,
+from the lute up; but harps are very common, Mrs. Gott—so
+common that we hear them now in the streets, and on board the
+steamboats even. There is nothing new in them, even in this
+country.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, in the streets and on board the boats; but the public
+will tolerate things done for <em>them</em>, that they won’t tolerate in individuals.
+I suppose you know <em>that</em>, Mr. Wilmington?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We soon learn as much in this country—but the gaols are
+made for the public, and the harps ought to be privileged in them,
+as well as in other public places.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I don’t know how it is—I’m not very good at reasoning—but,
+somehow or another, the neighbours don’t like that Mary
+Monson should play on the harp; or even on the piano, situated
+as she is. I do wish, Mr. Wilmington, you could give her a hint
+on the subject?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Shall I tell her that the music is unpleasant to <em>you</em>?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As far from that as possible! I delight in it; but the neighbours
+do not. Then she never shows herself at the grate, to folks
+outside, like all the other prisoners. The public wants to see and
+to converse with her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You surely could not expect a young and educated female to
+be making a spectacle of herself, for the gratification of the eyes
+of all the vulgar and curious in and about Biberry!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Hush—Mr. Wilmington, you are most too young to take
+care of such a cause. ’Squire Timms, now, is a man who understands
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>Duke’s county, and he would tell you it is not wise to
+talk of the vulgar hereabouts; at least not until the verdict is in.
+Besides, most people would think that folks have a right to look
+at a prisoner in the common gaol. I know they act as if they
+thought so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is hard enough to be accused and confined, without subjecting
+the party to any additional degradation. No man has a
+right to ask to look at Miss Monson, but those she sees fit to receive,
+and the officials of the law. It would be an outrage to
+tolerate mere idle curiosity.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, if you think so, Mr. Wilmington, do not let everybody
+know it. Several of the clergy have either been here, or have
+sent to offer their visits, if acceptable.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And what has been the answer?” demanded Jack, a little
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson has received all these offers as if she had been
+a queen! politely, but coldly; once or twice, or when the Methodist
+and the Baptist came, and they commonly come first, I
+thought she seemed hurt. Her colour went and came like lightning.
+Now, she was pale as death—next, as bright as a rose—what
+a colour she has at times, Mr. Wilmington! Duke’s is
+rather celebrated for rosy faces; but it would be hard to find her
+equal when she is not thinking.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Of what, my good Mrs. Gott?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, most of the neighbours say, of the Goodwins. For
+my part, as I do not believe she ever hurt a hair of the head of
+the old man and old woman, I can imagine that she has disagreeable
+things to think of that are in nowise connected with
+<em>them</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She certainly has disagreeable things to make her cheeks
+pale that <em>are</em> connected with that unfortunate couple. But, I
+ought to know all: To what else do the neighbours object?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To the foreign tongues—they think when a grand jury has
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>found a bill, the accused ought to talk nothing but plain English,
+so that all near her can understand what she says.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In a word, it is not thought sufficient to be accused of such
+a crime as murder, but all other visitations must follow, to render
+the charge as horrible as may be!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is not the way they look at it. The public fancies that
+in a public matter they have a right to know all about a thing.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And when there is a failure in the proof, they imagine, invent,
+and assert.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“’Tis the ways of the land. I suppose all nations have their
+ways, and follow them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“One thing surprises me a little in this matter,” Jack rejoined,
+after musing a moment; “it is this. In most cases in which
+women have any connection with the law, the leaning in this
+country, and more particularly of late, has been in their favour.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well,” Mrs. Gott quietly but quickly interrupted, “and
+ought it not to be so?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It ought not, unless the merits are with them. Justice is
+intended to do that which is equitable; and it is not fair to assume
+that women are always right, and men always wrong. I know
+my uncle thinks that not only the decisions of late years, but
+the laws, have lost sight of the wisdom of the past, and are gradually
+placing the women above the men, making <em>her</em> instead of
+<em>him</em> the head of the family.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, Mr. Wilmington, and isn’t that quite right?” demanded
+Mrs. Gott, with a good-natured nod.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“My uncle thinks it very wrong, and that by a mistaken gallantry
+the peace of families is undermined, and their discipline
+destroyed; as, in punishment, by a false philanthropy, rogues are
+petted at the expense of honest folk. Such are the opinions of
+Mr. Thomas Dunscomb, at least.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, Mr. Thomas Dunscomb is an old bachelor; and bachelors’
+wives, and bachelors’ children, as we well know, are always admirably
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>managed. It is a pity they are not more numerous,”
+retorted the indomitably good-humoured wife of the sheriff.
+“But, you see that, in this case of Mary Monson, the feeling is
+against, rather than in favour of a woman. That may be owing
+to the fact that one of the persons murdered was a lady also.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Dr. McBrain says that both were females—or lady-murdered—as
+I suppose we must call them; as doubtless you have heard,
+Mrs. Gott. Perhaps he is believed, and the fact may make doubly
+against the accused.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He is <em>not</em> believed. Everybody hereabouts <em>knows</em>, that one
+of the skeletons was that of Peter Goodwin. They say that the
+District Attorney means to show <em>that</em>, beyond all dispute. They
+tell me that it is a law, in a case of this sort, first to show there
+has been a murder; second, to show who did it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is something like the course of proceeding, I believe;
+though I never sat on a trial for this offence. It is of no great
+moment what the district attorney does, so that he do not prove
+that Miss Monson is guilty; and this, my kind-hearted Mrs. Gott,
+you and I do not believe he <em>can</em> do.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In that we are agreed, sir. I no more think that Mary Monson
+did these things, than I think I did them myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Jack expressed his thanks in a most grateful look, and there
+the interview terminated.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id005'>
+<img src='images/i_167.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed;</div>
+ <div class='line'>In war he mounts the warrior’s steed;</div>
+ <div class='line'>In halls, in gay attire is seen;</div>
+ <div class='line'>In hamlets, dances on the green.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And men below, and saints above;</div>
+ <div class='line'>For love is heaven, and heaven is love.”</div>
+ <div class='line in33'><cite>Scott.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It is the ways of the land,” said good Mrs. Gott, in one of
+her remarks in the conversation just related. Other usages prevail,
+in connection with other interests; and the time is come
+when we must refer to one of them. In a word, Dr. McBrain
+and Mrs. Updyke were about to be united in the bands of matrimony.
+As yet we have said very little of the intended bride;
+but the incidents of our tale render it now necessary to bring her
+more prominently on the stage, and to give some account of herself
+and family.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna Wade was the only child of very respectable and somewhat
+affluent parents. At nineteen she married a lawyer of suitable
+years, and became Mrs. Updyke. This union lasted but
+eight years, when the wife was left a widow with two children;
+a son and a daughter. In the course of time these children grew
+up, the mother devoting herself to their care, education and well-being.
+In all this there was nothing remarkable, widowed mothers
+doing as much daily, with a self-devotion that allies them
+to the angels. Frank Updyke, the son, had finished his education,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>and was daily expected to arrive from a tour of three years
+in Europe. Anna, her mother’s namesake, was at the sweet age
+of nineteen, and the very counterpart of what the elder Anna
+had been at the same period in life. The intended bride was far
+from being unattractive, though fully five-and-forty. In the eyes
+of Dr. McBrain, she was even charming; although she did not
+exactly answer those celebrated conditions of female influence
+that have been handed down to us in the familiar toast of a
+voluptuous English prince. Though forty, Mrs. Updyke was
+neither ‘fat’ nor ‘fair;’ being a brunette of a well-preserved and
+still agreeable person.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was perhaps a little singular, after having escaped the
+temptations of a widowhood of twenty years, that this lady should
+think of marrying at a time of life when most females abandon
+the expectation of changing their condition. But Mrs. Updyke
+was a person of a very warm heart; and she foresaw the day
+when she was to be left alone in the world. Her son was much
+inclined to be a rover; and, in his letters, he talked of still longer
+journeys, and of more protracted absences from home. He inherited
+an independency from his father, and had now been his
+own master for several years. Anna was much courted by the
+circle to which she belonged; and young, affluent, pretty to the
+very verge of beauty, gentle, quiet, and singularly warm-hearted,
+it was scarcely within the bounds of possibility that she could
+escape an early marriage in a state of society like that of Manhattan.
+These were the reasons Mrs. Updyke gave to her female
+confidants, when she deemed it well to explain the motives of her
+present purpose. Without intending to deceive, there was not a
+word of truth in these explanations. In point of fact, Mrs. Updyke,
+well as she had loved the husband of her youth, preserved
+<span lang="fr"><i>les beaux restes</i></span> of a very warm and affectionate heart; and
+McBrain, a well-preserved, good-looking man, about a dozen years
+older than herself, had found the means to awaken its sympathies
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>to such a degree, as once more to place the comely widow completely
+within the category of Cupid. It is very possible for a
+woman of forty to love, and to love with all her heart; though
+the world seldom takes as much interest in her weaknesses, if
+weakness it is, as in those of younger and fairer subjects of the
+passion. To own the truth, Mrs. Updyke was profoundly in love,
+while her betrothed met her inclination with an answering sympathy
+that, to say the least, was fully equal to any tender sentiment
+he had succeeded in awakening.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this was to Tom Dunscomb what he called “nuts.” Three
+times had he seen his old friend in this pleasant state of feeling,
+and three times was he chosen to be an attendant at the altar;
+once in the recognised character of a groomsman, and on the
+other two occasions in that of a chosen friend. Whether the
+lawyer had himself completely escaped the darts of the little
+god, no one could say, so completely had he succeeded in veiling
+this portion of his life from observation; but, whether he had or
+not, he made those who did submit to the passion the theme of
+his untiring merriment.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Children usually regard these tardy inclinations of their parents
+with surprise, if not with downright distaste. Some little surprise
+the pretty Anna Updyke may have felt, when she was told
+by a venerable great-aunt that her mother was about to be married;
+but of distaste there was none. She had a strong regard
+for her new step-father, that was to be; and thought it the most
+natural thing in the world to love. Sooth to say, Anna Updyke
+had not been out two years—the American girls are brought out
+so young!—without having sundry suitors. Manhattan is the
+easiest place in the world for a pretty girl, with a good fortune,
+to get offers. Pretty girls with good fortunes are usually in
+request everywhere, but it requires the precise state of society
+that exists in the “Great <em>Commercial</em> Emporium,” to give a
+young woman the highest chance in the old lottery. There,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>where one-half of the world came from other worlds some half a
+dozen years since; where a good old Manhattan name is regarded
+as upstart among a crowd that scarcely knows whence it was itself
+derived, and whither it is destined, and where few have any real
+position in society, and fewer still know what the true meaning
+of the term is, money and beauty are the constant objects of
+pursuit. Anna Updyke formed no exception. She had declined,
+in the gentlest manner possible, no less than six direct offers,
+coming from those who were determined to lose nothing by diffidence;
+had thrown cold water on more than twice that number
+of little flames that were just beginning to burn; and had thrown
+into the fire some fifteen or sixteen anonymous effusions, in prose
+and verse, that came from adventurers who could admire from a
+distance, at the opera and in the streets, but who had no present
+means of getting any nearer than these indirect attempts at communication.
+We say “thrown into the fire;” for Anna was too
+prudent, and had too much self-respect, to retain such documents,
+coming, as they did, from so many “Little Unknowns.” The
+anonymous effusions were consequently burnt—with one exception.
+The exception was in the case of a sonnet, in which her
+hair—and very beautiful it is—was the theme. From some of
+the little free-masonry of the intercourse of the sexes, Anna
+fancied these lines had been written by Jack Wilmeter, one of
+the most constant of her visiters, as well as one of her admitted
+favourites. Between Jack and Anna there had been divers
+passages of gallantry, which had been very kindly viewed by
+McBrain and the mother. The parties themselves did not understand
+their own feelings; for matters had not gone far, when
+Mary Monson so strangely appeared on the stage, and drew Jack
+off, on the trail of wonder and mystery, if not on that of real
+passion. As Sarah Wilmeter was the most intimate friend of
+Anna Updyke, it is not extraordinary that this singular fancy of
+the brother’s should be the subject of conversation between the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>two young women, each of whom probably felt more interest in
+his movements than any other persons on earth. The dialogue
+we are about to relate took place in Anna’s own room, the morning
+of the day which preceded that of the wedding, and followed
+naturally enough, as the sequence of certain remarks which had
+been made on the approaching event.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If <em>my</em> mother were living, and <em>must</em> be married,” said Sarah
+Wilmeter, “I should be very well content to have <em>such</em> a man as
+Dr. McBrain for a step-father. I have known him all my life,
+and he is, and ever has been, so intimate with uncle Tom, that I
+almost think him a near relation.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And I have known him as long as I can remember,” Anna
+steadily rejoined, “and have not only a great respect, but a warm
+regard for him. Should I ever marry myself, I do not believe I
+shall have one-half the attachment for my father-in-law as I am
+sure I shall feel for my step-father.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How do you know there will be any father-in-law in the
+case? I am sure John has no parent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“John!” returned Anna, faintly—“What is John to me?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Thank you, my dear—he is something, at least, to <em>me</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To be sure—a brother naturally is—but Jack is no brother
+of mine, you will please to remember.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Sarah cast a quick, inquiring look at her friend; but the eyes
+of Anna were thrown downward on the carpet, while the bloom
+on her cheek spread to her temples. Her friend saw that, in
+truth, Jack was no <em>brother of hers</em>.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What I mean is this”—continued Sarah, following a thread
+that ran through her own mind, rather than anything that had
+been already expressed—“Jack is making himself a very silly
+fellow just now.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna now raised her eyes; her lip quivered a little, and the
+bloom deserted even her cheek. Still, she made no reply. Women
+can listen acutely at such moments; but it commonly exceeds
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>their powers to speak. The friends understood each other, as
+Sarah well knew, and she continued her remarks precisely as if
+the other had answered them.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Michael Millington brings strange accounts of Jack’s behaviour
+at Biberry! He says that he seems to do nothing, think
+of nothing, talk of nothing, but of the hardship of this Mary
+Monson’s case.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m sure it is cruel enough to awaken the pity of a rock,”
+said Anna Updyke, in a low tone; “a woman, and she a lady,
+accused of such terrible crimes—murder and arson!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What is arson, child?—and how do <em>you</em> know anything
+about it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Again Anna coloured, her feelings being all sensitiveness on
+this subject; which had caused her far more pain than she had
+experienced from any other event in her brief life. It was, however,
+necessary to answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Arson is setting fire to an inhabited house,” she said, after a
+moment’s reflection; “and I know it from having been told its
+signification by Mr. Dunscomb.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did uncle Tom say anything of this Mary Monson, and of
+Jack’s singular behaviour?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He spoke of his client as a very extraordinary person, and
+of her accomplishments, and readiness, and beauty. Altogether,
+he does not seem to know what to make of her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And what did he say about Jack?—You need have no reserve
+with me, Anna; I am his sister.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know that very well, dear Sarah—but Jack’s name was
+not mentioned, I believe—certainly not at the particular time,
+and in the conversation to which I now refer.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But at some <em>other</em> time, my dear, and in some <em>other</em> conversation.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He did once say something about your brother’s being very
+attentive to the interests of the person he calls his Duke’s county
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>client—nothing more, I do assure you. It is the duty of young
+lawyers to be very attentive to the interests of their clients, I
+should think.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Assuredly—and that most especially when the client is a
+young lady with a pocket full of money. But Jack is above
+want, and can afford to act right at all times and on all occasions.
+I wish he had never seen this strange creature.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna Updyke sat silent for some little time, playing with the
+hem of her pocket-handkerchief. Then she said timidly, speaking
+as if she wished an answer, even while she dreaded it—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does not Marie Moulin know something about her?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A great deal, if she would only tell it. But Marie, too, has
+gone over to the enemy, since she has seen this siren. Not a
+word can I get out of her, though I have written three letters,
+beyond the fact that she knows <span lang="fr"><i>Mademoiselle</i></span>, and that she cannot
+believe her guilty.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The last, surely, is very important. If really innocent, how
+hard has been the treatment she has received! It is not surprising
+that your brother feels so deep an interest in her. He is
+very warm-hearted and generous, Sarah; and it is just like him
+to devote his time and talents to the service of the oppressed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was Sarah’s turn to be silent and thoughtful. She made no
+answer, for she well understood that an impulse very different
+from that mentioned by her friend was, just then, influencing her
+brother’s conduct.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We have related this conversation as the briefest mode of
+making the reader acquainted with the true state of things in
+and about the neat dwelling of Mrs. Updyke in Eighth-street.
+Much, however, remains to be told; as the morning of the very
+day which succeeded that on which the foregoing dialogue was
+held, was the one named for the wedding of the mistress of the
+house.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At the very early hour of six, the party met at the church
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>door, one of the most gothic structures in the new quarter of the
+town; and five minutes sufficed to make the two one. Anna
+sobbed as she saw her mother passing away from her, as it then
+appeared to her; and the bride herself was a little overcome.
+As for McBrain, as his friend Dunscomb expressed it, in a description
+given to a brother bachelor, who met him at dinner—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He stood fire like a veteran! You’re not going to frighten
+a fellow who has held forth the ring three times. You will remember
+that Ned has previously killed two wives, besides all the
+other folk he has slain; and I make no doubt the fellow’s confidence
+was a good deal increased by the knowledge he possesses
+that none of us are immortal—as husbands and wives, at least.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>But Tom Dunscomb’s pleasantries had no influence on his
+friend’s happiness. Odd as it may appear to some, this connection
+was one of a warm and very sincere attachment. Neither
+of the parties had reached the period of life when nature begins
+to yield to the pressure of time; and there was the reasonable
+prospect before them of their contributing largely to each other’s
+future happiness. The bride was dressed with great simplicity,
+but with a proper care; and she really justified the passion that
+McBrain insisted, in his conversations with Dunscomb, that he
+felt for her. Youthful, for her time of life, modest in demeanour
+and aspect, still attractive in person, the ‘Widow Updyke’ became
+Mrs. McBrain, with as charming an air of womanly feeling as
+might have been exhibited by one of less than half her age.
+Covered with blushes, she was handed by the bridegroom into
+his own carriage, which stood at the church-door, and the two
+proceeded to Timbully.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As for Anna Updyke, she went to pass a week in the country
+with Sarah Dunscomb; even a daughter being a little <span lang="fr"><i>de trop</i></span>,
+in a honey-moon. Rattletrap was the singular name Tom Dunscomb
+had given to his country-house. It was a small villa-like
+residence, on the banks of the Hudson, and within the island of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>Manhattan. Concealed in a wood, it was a famous place for a
+bachelor to hide his oddities in. Here Dunscomb concentrated
+all his out-of-the-way purchases, including ploughs that were never
+used, all sorts of farming utensils that were condemned to the
+same idleness, and such contrivances in the arts of fishing and
+shooting as struck his fancy; though the lawyer never handled a
+rod or levelled a fowling-piece. But Tom Dunscomb, though he
+professed to despise love, had fancies of his own. It gave him a
+certain degree of pleasure to <em>seem</em> to have these several tastes;
+and he threw away a good deal of money in purchasing these
+characteristic ornaments for Rattletrap. When Jack Wilmeter
+ventured, one day, to ask his uncle what pleasure he could find
+in collecting so many costly and perfectly useless articles, implements
+that had not the smallest apparent connection with his
+ordinary pursuits and profession, he got the following answer:—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are wrong, Jack, in supposing that these traps are <a id='corr172.16'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='use,less'>useless</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_172.16'><ins class='correction' title='use,less'>useless</ins></a></span>. A lawyer has occasion for a vast deal of knowledge that
+he will never get out of his books. One should have the elements
+of all the sciences, and of most of the arts, in his mind, to make
+a thoroughly good advocate; for their application will become
+necessary on a thousand occasions, when Blackstone and Kent
+can be of no service. No, no; I prize my professions highly,
+and look upon Rattletrap as my Inn of Court.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Jack Wilmeter had come over from Biberry to attend the
+wedding, and had now accompanied the party into the country,
+as it was called; though the place of Dunscomb was so near
+town that it was not difficult, when the wind was at the southward,
+to hear the fire-bell on the City Hall. The meeting between
+John Wilmeter and Anna Updyke had been fortunately a
+little relieved by the peculiar circumstances in which the latter
+was placed. The feeling she betrayed, the pallor of her cheek,
+and the nervousness of her deportment, might all, naturally
+enough, be imputed to the emotions of a daughter, who saw her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>own mother standing at the altar, by the side of one who was
+not her natural father. Let this be as it might, Anna had the
+advantage of the inferences which those around her made on
+these facts. The young people met first in the church, where
+there was no opportunity for any exchange of language or looks.
+Sarah took her friend away with her alone, on the road to Rattletrap,
+immediately after the ceremony, in order to allow Anna’s
+spirits and manner to become composed, without being subjected
+to unpleasant observation. Dunscomb and his nephew drove out
+in a light vehicle of the latter’s; and Michael Millington appeared
+later at the villa, bringing with him to dinner, Timms,
+who came on business connected with the approaching trial.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>There never had been any love-making, in the direct meaning
+of the term, between John Wilmeter and Anna Updyke. They
+had known each other so long and so intimately, that both regarded
+the feeling of kindness that each knew subsisted, as a
+mere fraternal sort of affection. “Jack is Sarah’s brother,”
+thought Anna, when she permitted herself to reason on the
+subject at all; “and it is natural that I should have more friendship
+for him than for any other young man.” “Anna is Sarah’s
+most intimate friend,” thought Jack, “and that is the long and
+short of my attachment for <em>her</em>. Take away Sarah, and Anna
+would be nothing to me; though she is so pretty, and clever,
+and gentle, and lady-like. I must like those Anna likes, or it
+might make us both unhappy.” This was the reasoning of
+nineteen, and when Anna Updyke was just budding into young
+womanhood; at a later day, habit had got to be so much in the
+ascendant, that neither of the young people <em>thought</em> much on the
+subject at all. The preference was strong in each—so strong,
+indeed, as to hover over the confines of passion, and quite near
+to its vortex; though the long accustomed feeling prevented
+either from entering into its analysis. The attachments that
+grow up with our daily associations, and get to be so interwoven
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>with our most familiar thoughts, seldom carry away those who
+submit to them, in the whirlwind of passion; which are much
+more apt to attend sudden and impulsive love. Cases do certainly
+occur in which the parties have long known each other,
+and have lived on for years in a dull appreciation of mutual
+merit—sometimes with prejudices and alienation active between
+them; when suddenly all is changed, and the scene that was
+lately so tranquil and tame becomes tumultuous and glowing,
+and life assumes a new charm, as the profound emotions of passion
+chase away its dulness; substituting hope, and fears, and
+lively wishes, and soul-felt impressions in its stead. This is not
+usual in the course of the most wayward of all our impulses;
+but it does occasionally happen, brightening existence with a
+glow that might well be termed divine, were the colours bestowed
+derived from a love of the Creator, in lieu of that of one of his
+creatures. In these sudden awakenings of dormant feelings,
+some chord of mutual sympathy, some deep-rooted affinity is
+aroused, carrying away their possessors in a torrent of the feelings.
+Occasionally, wherever the affinity is active, the impulse
+natural and strongly sympathetic, these sudden and seemingly
+wayward attachments are the most indelible, colouring the whole
+of the remainder of life; but oftener do they take the character
+of mere impulse, rather than that of deeper sentiment, and disappear,
+as they were first seen, in some sudden glow of the
+horizon of the affections.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In this brief analysis of some of the workings of the heart,
+we may find a clue to the actual frame of mind in which John
+Wilmeter returned from Biberry, where he had now been, like a
+sentinel on post, for several weeks, in vigilant watchfulness over
+the interests of Mary Monson. During all that time, however,
+he had not once been admitted within the legal limits of the
+prison; holding his brief, but rather numerous conferences with
+his client, at the little grate in the massive door that separated
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>the gaol from the dwelling of the sheriff. Kind-hearted Mrs.
+Gott would have admitted him to the gallery, whenever he chose
+to ask that favour; but this act of courtesy had been forbidden
+by Mary Monson herself. Timms she did receive, and she conferred
+with him in private on more than one occasion, manifesting
+great earnestness in the consultations that preceded the approaching
+trial. But John Wilmeter she would receive only at the
+grate, like a nun in a well-regulated convent. Even this coyness
+contributed to feed the fire that had been so suddenly lighted in
+the young man’s heart, on which the strangeness of the prisoner’s
+situation, her personal attractions, her manners, and all the other
+known peculiarities of person, history, education and deportment,
+had united to produce a most lively impression, however fleeting
+it was to prove in the end.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Had there been any direct communications on the subject of
+the attachment that had so long, so slowly, but so surely been
+taking root in the hearts of John and Anna, any reciprocity in
+open confidence, this unlooked-for impulse in a new direction
+could not have overtaken the young man. He did not know how
+profound was the interest that Anna took in him; nor, for that
+matter, was she aware of it herself, until Michael Millington
+brought the unpleasant tidings of the manner in which his friend
+seemed to be entranced with his uncle’s client at Biberry. Then,
+indeed, Anna was made to feel that surest attendant of the liveliest
+love, a pang of jealousy; and, for the first time in her young
+and innocent life, she became aware of the real nature of her
+sentiments in behalf of John Wilmeter. On the other hand,
+drawn aside from the ordinary course of his affections by sudden,
+impulsive, and exciting novelties, John was fast submitting to
+the influence of the charms of the fair stranger, as has been more
+than once intimated in our opening pages, as the newly-fallen
+snow melts under the rays of a noon-day sun.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Such, then, was the state of matters in this little circle, when
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>the wedding took place, and John Wilmeter joined the family
+party. Although Dunscomb did all he could to make the dinner
+gay, Rattletrap had seldom entertained a more silent company
+than that which sat down at its little round table on this <a id='corr176.4'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='occasion'>occasion.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_176.4'><ins class='correction' title='occasion'>occasion.</ins></a></span>
+John thought of Biberry and Mary Monson; Sarah’s imagination
+was quite busy in wondering why Michael Millington stayed
+away so long; and Anna was on the point of bursting into tears
+half-a-dozen times, under the depression produced by the joint
+events of her mother’s marriage, and John Wilmeter’s obvious
+change of deportment towards her.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What the deuce has kept Michael Millington and that fellow
+Timms, from joining us at dinner,” said the master of the house,
+as the fruit was placed upon the table; and, closing one eye, he
+looked with the other through the ruby rays of a glass of well-cooled
+Madeira—his favourite wine. “Both promised to be
+punctual; yet here are they both sadly out of time. They knew
+the dinner was to come off at four.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As is one, sir, so are both,” answered John. “You will
+remember they were to come together?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“True—and Millington is rather a punctual man—especially
+in visiting at Rattletrap”—here Sarah blushed a little; but the
+engagement in her case being announced, there was no occasion
+for any particular confusion. “We shall have to take Michael with
+us into Duke’s next week, Miss Wilmeter; the case being too
+grave to neglect bringing up all our forces.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is Jack, too, to take a part in the trial, uncle Tom?” demanded
+the niece, with a little interest in the answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Jack, too—everybody, in short. When the life of a fine
+young woman is concerned, it behooves her counsel to be active
+and diligent. I have never before had a cause into which my
+feelings have so completely entered—no, never.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not counsel always enter, heart and hand, into their clients’
+interests, and make themselves, as it might be, as you gentlemen
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>of the bar sometimes term these things, a ‘part and parcel’ of
+their concerns?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This question was put by Sarah, but it caused Anna to raise
+her eyes from the fruit she was pretending to eat, and to listen
+intently to the reply. Perhaps she fancied that the answer might
+explain the absorbed manner in which John had engaged in the
+service of the accused.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As far from it as possible, in many cases,” returned the uncle;
+“though there certainly are others in which one engages with all
+his feelings. But every day lessens my interest in the law, and
+all that belongs to it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why should that be so, sir?—I have heard you called a devotee
+of the profession.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That’s because I have no wife. Let a man live a bachelor,
+and ten to one he gets some nickname or other. On the other
+hand, let him marry two or three times, like Ned McBrain—beg
+your pardon, Nanny, for speaking disrespectfully of your papa—but
+let a fellow just get his third wife, and they tack ‘family’ to
+his appellation at once. He’s an excellent <em>family</em> lawyer, or a
+capital <em>family</em> physician, or a supremely pious—no, I don’t know
+that they’ve got so far as the parsons, for <em>they</em> are all <em>family</em>
+fellows.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have a spite against matrimony, uncle Tom.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, if I have, it stops with me, as a <em>family</em> complaint.
+<em>You</em> are free from it, my dear; and I’m half inclined to think
+Jack will marry before he is a year older. But, here are the
+tardies at last.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Although the uncle made no allusion to the person his nephew
+was to marry, everybody but himself thought of Mary Monson
+at once. Anna turned pale as death; Sarah looked thoughtful,
+and even sad; and John became as red as scarlet. But the entrance
+of Michael Millington and Timms caused the conversation
+to turn on another subject, as a matter of course.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>“We expected you to dinner, gentlemen,” Dunscomb drily
+remarked, as he pushed the bottle to his guests.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Business before eating is my maxim, ’Squire Dunscomb,”
+Timms replied. “Mr. Millington and I have been very busy in
+the office, from the moment Dr. McBrain and his lady——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Wife—say ‘wife,’ Timms, if you please. Or, ‘Mrs. McBrain,’
+if you like that better.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, sir, I used the word I did, out of compliment to the
+other ladies present. They love to be honoured and signalized
+in our language, when we speak of them, sir, I believe.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Poh! poh! Timms; take my advice, and let all these small
+matters alone. It takes a life to master them, and one must begin
+from the cradle. When all is ended, they are scarce worth
+the trouble they give. Speak good, plain, direct, and manly
+English, I have always told you, and you’ll get along well
+enough; but make no attempts to be fine. ‘Dr. McBrain and
+<em>lady</em>,’ is next thing ‘to going through Hurlgate,’ or meeting a
+‘lady friend.’ You’ll never get the right sort of a wife, until
+you drop all such absurdities.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll tell you how it is, ’Squire: so far as law goes, or even
+morals, and I don’t know but I may say general government
+politics, I look upon you as the best adviser I can consult. But,
+when it comes to matrimony, I can’t see how you should know
+any more about it than I do myself. I <em>do</em> intend to get married
+one of these days, which is more, I fancy, than you ever had in
+view.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No; my great concern has been to escape matrimony; but a
+man may get a very tolerable notion of the sex while manœuvring
+among them, with that intention. I am not certain that he who
+has had two or three handsomely managed escapes, doesn’t learn
+as much as he who has had two or three wives—I mean of
+useful information. What do you think of all this, Millington?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>“That I wish for no escapes, when my choice has been free
+and fortunate.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And you, Jack?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sir!” answered the nephew, starting, as if aroused from a
+brown study. “Did you speak to me, uncle Tom?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<em>He</em>’ll not be of much use to us next week, Timms,” said
+the counsellor, coolly, filling his own and his neighbour’s glass
+as he spoke, with iced Madeira—“These capital cases demand
+the utmost vigilance; more especially when popular prejudice
+sets in against them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Should the jury find Mary Monson to be guilty, what would
+be the sentence of the court?” demanded Sarah, smiling, even
+while she seemed much interested—“I believe that is right,
+Mike—the court ‘sentences,’ and the jury ‘convicts.’ If there
+be any mistake, you must answer for it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am afraid to speak of laws, or constitutions, in the presence
+of your uncle, since the rebuke Jack and I got in that affair of
+the toast,” returned Sarah’s betrothed, arching his eye-brows.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By the way, Jack, did that dinner ever come off?” demanded
+the uncle, suddenly; “I looked for your toasts in the journals,
+but do not remember ever to have seen them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You could not have seen any of mine, sir; for I went to
+Biberry that very morning, and only left there last evening”—Anna’s
+countenance resembled a lily, just as it begins to droop—“I
+believe, however, the whole affair fell through, as no one seems
+to know, just now, who are and who are not the friends of liberty.
+It is the people to-day; the pope next day; some prince to-morrow;
+and, by the end of the week, we may have a Massaniello
+or a Robespierre uppermost. The times seem sadly out of joint,
+just now, and the world is fast getting to be upside-down.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s all owing to this infernal Code, Timms, which is enough
+to revolutionize human nature itself!” cried Dunscomb, with an
+animation that produced a laugh in the young folk, (Anne excepted,)
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>and a simper in the person addressed. “Ever since this
+thing has come into operation among us, I never know when a
+case is to be heard, the decision had, or the principles that are
+to come uppermost. Well, we must try and get some good out
+of it, if we can, in this capital case.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which is drawing very near, ’Squire; and I have some facts
+to communicate in that affair which it may be well to compare
+with the law, without much more delay.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Let us finish this bottle—if the boys help us, it will not be
+much more than a glass apiece.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I don’t think the ’Squire will ever be up<em>held</em> at the polls by
+the Temperance people,” said Timms, filling his glass to the brim;
+for, to own the truth, it was seldom that he got such wine.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As <em>you</em> are expecting to be held <em>up</em> by them, my fine fellow.
+I’ve heard of your management, master Timms, and am told
+you aspire as high as the State Senate. Well; there is room for
+better, but much worse men have been sent there. Now, let us
+go to what I call the ‘Rattletrap office.’”</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“The strawberry grows underneath the nettle;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Neighbour’d by fruit of baser quality.”</div>
+ <div class='line in31'><cite>King Henry V.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>There stood a very pretty pavilion in one of the groves of
+Rattletrap, overhanging the water, with the rock of the river-shore
+for its foundation. It had two small apartments, in one of which
+Dunscomb had caused a book-case, a table, a rocking-chair and a
+lounge to be placed. The other was furnished more like an ordinary
+summer-house, and was at all times accessible to the inmates
+of the family. The sanctum, or office, was kept locked; and
+here its owner often brought his papers, and passed whole days,
+during the warm months, when it is the usage to be out of town,
+in preparing his cases. To this spot, then, the counsellor now
+held his way, attended by Timms, having ordered a servant to
+bring a light and some segars; smoking being one of the regular
+occupations of the office. In a few minutes, each of the two men
+of the law had a segar in his mouth, and was seated at a little
+window that commanded a fine view of the Hudson, its fleet of
+sloops, steamers, tow-boats and colliers, and its high, rocky
+western shore, which has obtained the not inappropriate name of
+the Palisades.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The segars, the glass, and the pleasant scenery, teeming as was
+the last with movement and life, appeared, for the moment, to
+drive from the minds of the two men of the law the business on
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>which they had met. It was a proof of the effect of habit that
+a person like Dunscomb, who was really a good man, and one
+who loved his fellow-creatures, could just then forget that a
+human life was, in some measure, dependent on the decisions of
+this very interview, and permit his thoughts to wander from so
+important an interest. So it was, however; and the first topic
+that arose in this consultation had no reference whatever to Mary
+Monson or her approaching trial, though it soon led the colloquists
+round to her situation, as it might be without their intending
+it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is a charming retreat, ’Squire Dunscomb,” commenced
+Timms, settling himself with some method in a very commodious
+arm-chair; “and one that I should often frequent, did I own it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hope you will live to be master of one quite as pleasant,
+Timms, some time or other. They tell me your practice, now, is
+one of the best in Duke’s; some two or three thousand a year, I
+dare say, if the truth were known.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s as good as anybody’s on our circuit, unless you count
+the bigwigs from York. I won’t name the sum, even to as old
+a friend as yourself, ’Squire; for the man who lets the world
+peep into his purse, will soon find it footing him up, like a sum
+in arithmetic. You’ve gentlemen in town, however, who sometimes
+get more for a single case, than I can ’arn in a twelvemonth.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Still, considering your beginning, and late appearance at the
+bar, Timms, you are doing pretty well. Do you lead in many
+trials at the circuit?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That depends pretty much on age, you know, ’Squire.
+Gen’rally older lawyers are put into all my causes; but I have
+carried one or two through, on my own shoulders, and that by
+main strength too.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It must have been by your facts, rather than by your law.
+The verdicts turned altogether on testimony, did they not?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>“Pretty much—and <em>that</em>’s the sort of case <em>I</em> like. A man
+can prepare his evidence beforehand, and make some calculations
+where it will land him; but, as for the law, I do not see that
+studying it as hard as I will, makes me much the wiser. A case
+is no sooner settled one way, by a judge in New York, than it is
+settled in another, in Pennsylvany or Virginny.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And that, too, when courts were identical, and had a character!
+Now, we have eight Supreme Courts, and they are beginning
+to settle the law in eight different ways. Have you studied
+the Code pretty closely, Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not I, sir. They tell me things will come round under it in
+time, and I try to be patient. There’s one thing about it that I
+<em>do</em> like. It has taken all the Latin out of the law, which is a
+great help to us poor scholars.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It has that advantage, I confess; and before it is done, it
+will take all the law out of the Latin. They tell me it was proposed
+to call the old process of ‘<span lang="la"><i>ne exeat</i></span>’ a writ of ‘no go.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, to my mind, the last would be the best term of the
+two.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, to <em>your</em> mind, it might, Timms. How do you like
+the fee-bills, and the new mode of obtaining your compensation?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Capital! The more they change them matters, the deeper
+we’ll dig into ’em, ’Squire! I never knew reform help the great
+body of the community—all it favours is individdles.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There is more truth in that, Timms, than you are probably
+aware of yourself. Reform, fully half the time, does no more
+than shift the pack-saddle from one set of shoulders to another.
+Nor do I believe much is gained by endeavouring to make law
+cheap. It were better for the community that it should be dear;
+though cases do occur in which its charges might amount to a
+denial of justice. It is to be regretted that the world oftener
+decides under the influence of exceptions, rather than under that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>of the rule. Besides, it is no easy matter to check the gains of
+a thousand or two of hungry attorneys.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There you’re right, ’Squire, if you never hit the nail on the
+head before! But the new scheme is working well for <em>us</em>, and,
+in one sense, it may work well for the people. The compensation
+is the first thing thought of now; and when that is the case, the
+client stops to think. It isn’t every person that holds as large
+and as open a purse as our lady at Biberry!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, she continues to fee you, does she, Timms? Pray, how
+much has she given you altogether?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not enough to build a new wing to the Astor Library, nor
+to set up a parson in a gothic temple; still, enough to engage
+me, heart and hand, in her service. First and last, my receipts
+have been a thousand dollars, besides money for the outlays.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which have amounted to——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“More than as much more. This is a matter of life and
+death, you know, sir; and prices rise accordingly. All I have
+received has been handed to me either in gold or in good current
+paper. The first troubled me a good deal; for I was not certain
+some more pieces might not be recognized, though they were all
+eagles and half-eagles.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Has any such recognition occurred?” demanded Dunscomb,
+with interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To be frank with you, ’Squire Dunscomb, I sent the money
+to town at once, and set it afloat in the great current in Wall
+Street, where it could do neither good nor harm on the trial. It
+would have been very green in me to pay out the precise coin
+among the people of Duke’s. No one could say what might
+have been the consequences.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is not very easy for me to foretell the consequences of the
+substitutes which, it seems, you <em>did</em> use. A fee to a counsel I
+can understand; but what the deuce you have done, legally,
+with a thousand dollars out-of-doors, exceeds my penetration
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>I trust you have not been attempting to purchase jurors,
+Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not I, <a id='corr185.3'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='sir'>sir.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_185.3'><ins class='correction' title='sir'>sir.</ins></a></span> I know the penalties too well, to venture on such
+a defence. Besides, it is too soon to attempt that game. Jurors
+may be bought; sometimes <em>are</em> bought, I have heard say”—here
+Timms screwed up his face into a most significant mimicry of
+disapprobation—“but <em>I</em> have done nothing of the sort in the
+‘State <em>vs</em>. Mary Monson.’ It is too soon to operate, even should
+the testimony drive us to <em>that</em>, in the long run.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I forbid all illegal measures, Timms. You know my rule of
+trying causes is never to overstep the limits of the law.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir; I understand your principle, which will answer,
+provided both sides stick to it. But, let a man act as close to
+what is called honesty as he please, what certainty has he that
+his adversary will observe the same rule? This is the great
+difficulty I find in getting along in the world, ’Squire; opposition
+upsets all a man’s best intentions. Now, in politics, sir, there is
+no man in the country better disposed to uphold respectable candidates
+and just principles than I am myself; but the other side
+squeeze us up so tight, that before the election comes off, I’m
+ready to vote for the devil, rather than get the worst of it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, that’s the wicked man’s excuse all over the world,
+Timms. In voting for the gentleman you have just mentioned,
+you will remember you are sustaining the enemy of your race,
+whatever may be his particular relation to his party. But in this
+affair at Biberry, you will please to remember it is not an election,
+nor is the devil a candidate. What success have you had
+with the testimony?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There’s an abstract of it, sir; and a pretty mess it is! So
+far as I can see, we shall have to rest entirely on the witnesses
+of the State; for I can get nothing out of the accused.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does she still insist on her silence, in respect of the past?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As close as if she had been born dumb. I have told her in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>the strongest language that her life depends on her appearing before
+the jury with a plain tale and a good character; but she will
+help me to neither. I never had such a client before—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Open-handed, you mean, I suppose, Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In that partic’lar, ’Squire Dunscomb, she is just what the
+profession likes—liberal, and pays down. Of course, I am so
+much the more anxious to do all I can in her case; but she will
+not let me serve her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There must be some strong reason for all this reserve, Timms—Have
+you questioned the Swiss maid, that my niece sent to
+her. We know <em>her</em>, and it would seem that she knows Mary
+Monson. Here is so obvious a way of coming at the past, I
+trust you have spoken to her?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She will not let me say a word to the maid. There they live
+together, chatter with one another from morning to night, in
+French, that nobody understands; but will see no one but me,
+and me only in public, as it might be.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In public!—You have not asked for <em>private</em> interviews, eh!
+Timms? Remember your views upon the county, and the great
+danger there is of the electors’ finding you out.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I well know, ’Squire Dunscomb, that your opinion of me is
+not very flattering in some partic’lars; while in others I think
+you place me pretty well up the ladder. As for old Duke’s, I
+believe I stand as well in that county as any man in it, now the
+Revolutionary patriots are nearly gone. So long as any of <em>them</em>
+lasted, we modern fellows had no chance; and the way in which
+relics were brought to light was wonderful! If Washington only
+had an army one-tenth as strong as these patriots make it out to
+be, he would have driven the British from the country years
+sooner than it was actually done. Luckily, my grandfather <em>did</em>
+serve a short tour of duty in that war; and my own father was a
+captain of militia in 1814, lying out on Harlem Heights and
+Harlem Common, most of the fall; when and where he caught
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>the rheumatism. This was no bad capital to start upon; and,
+though you treat it lightly, ’Squire, I’m a favourite in the county—I
+<em>am</em>!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nobody doubts it, Timms; or can doubt it, if he knew the
+history of these matters. Let me see—I believe I first heard of
+you as a Temperance Lecturer?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Excuse me; I began with the Common Schools, on which I
+lectured with some success, one whole season. <em>Then</em> came the
+Temperance cause, out of which, I will own, not a little capital
+was made.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And do you stop there, Timms; or do you ride some other
+hobby into power?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s my way, Mr. Dunscomb, to try all sorts of med’cines.
+Some folks that wunt touch rhubarb will swallow salts; and all
+palates must be satisfied. Free Sile and Emancipation Doctrines
+are coming greatly into favour; but they are ticklish things, that
+cut like a two-edged sword, and I do not fancy meddling with
+them. There are about as many opposed to meddling with slavery
+in the free States, as there are in favour of it. I wish I knew
+your sentiments, ’Squire Dunscomb, on this subject. I’ve always
+found your doctrines touching the Constitution to be sound, and
+such as would stand <a id='corr187.22'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='examination.'>examination.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_187.22'><ins class='correction' title='examination.'>examination.”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The constitutional part of the question is very simple, and
+presents no difficulties whatever,” returned the counsellor, squinting
+through the ruby of his glass, with an old-bachelor sort of
+delight, “except for those who have special ends to obtain.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Has, or has not, Congress a legal right to enact laws preventing
+the admission of slaves into California?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Congress has the legal right to govern any of its territories
+despotically; of course, to admit or to receive what it may please
+within their limits. The resident of a territory is not a citizen,
+and has no <em>legal</em> claim to be so considered. California, as a conquered
+territory, may be thus governed by the laws of nations,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>unless the treaty of cession places some restrictions on the authority
+of the conqueror. A great deal of absurdity is afloat among
+those who should know better, touching the powers of government
+in this country. You yourself, are one of those fellows, Timms,
+who get things upside-down, and fancy the Constitution is to be
+looked into for everything.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And is it not, ’Squire?—that is, in the way of theory—in
+practice, I know it is a very different matter. Are we not to look
+into the Constitution for all the powers of the government?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Of the <em>government</em>, perhaps, in one sense—but not for those
+of the <em>nation</em>. Whence come the powers to make war and peace,
+to form treaties and alliances, maintain armies and navies, coin
+money, &c.?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You’ll find them all in the Constitution, as I read it, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There is just your mistake; and connected with it are most
+of the errors that are floating about in our political world. The
+<em>country</em> gets its legal right to do all these things from the laws
+of nations; the Constitution merely saying <em>who</em> shall be its agents
+in the exercise of these powers. Thus <em>war</em> is rendered legal by
+the custom of nations; and the Constitution says Congress shall
+declare war. It also says Congress shall pass all laws that become
+necessary to carry out this power. It follows, Congress
+may pass any law that has a legitimate aim to secure a conquest.
+Nor is this all the functionaries of the government can do, on
+general principles, in the absence of any special provisions by a
+direct law. The latter merely supersedes or directs the power
+of the former. The Constitution guarantees nothing to the territories.
+They are strictly subject, and may be governed absolutely.
+The only protection of their people is in the sympathy
+and habits of the people of the States. We give them political
+liberty, not as of legal necessity, but as a boon to which they are
+entitled in good-fellowship—or as the father provides for his
+children.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>“Then you think Congress has power to exclude slavery from
+California?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can’t imagine a greater legal absurdity than to deny it. I
+see no use in any legislation on the subject, as a matter of practice,
+since California will shortly decide on this interest for itself;
+but, as a right in theory, it strikes me to be madness to deny
+that the government of the United States has full power over all
+its territories, both on general principles and under the Constitution.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And in the Deestrict—you hold to the same power in the
+Deestrict?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Beyond a question. Congress can abolish domestic servitude
+or slavery in the District of Columbia, whenever it shall see fit.
+The <em>right</em> is as clear as the sun at noon-day.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If these are your opinions, ’Squire, I’ll go for Free Sile and
+Abolition in the Deestrict. They have a popular cry, and take
+wonderfully well in Duke’s, and will build me up considerable.
+I like to be right; but, most of all, I like to be strong.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If you adopt such a course, you will espouse trouble without
+any dower, and that will be worse than McBrain’s three wives;
+and, what is more, in the instance of the District, you will be
+guilty of an act of oppression. You will remember that the
+possession of a legal power to do a particular thing, does not infer
+a moral right to exercise it. As respects your Free Soil, it may
+be well to put down a foot; and, so far as votes legally used can
+be thrown, to prevent the further extension of slavery. In this
+respect you are right enough, and will be sustained by an overwhelming
+majority of the nation; but, when it comes to the
+District, the question has several sides to it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You said yourself, ’Squire, that Congress has all power to
+legislate for the Deestrict?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No doubt it has—but the possession of a power does not
+necessarily imply its use. We have power, as a nation, to make
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>war on little Portugal, and crush her; but it would be very
+wicked to do so. When a member of Congress votes on any
+question that strictly applies to the District, he should reason
+precisely as if his constituents all lived in the District <a id='corr190.4'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='itself'>itself.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_190.4'><ins class='correction' title='itself'>itself.</ins></a></span>
+You will understand, Timms, that liberty is closely connected
+with practice, and is not a mere creature of phrases and professions.
+What more intolerable tyranny could exist than to have
+a man elected by New Yorkers legislating for the District on
+strictly New York policy; or, if you will, on New York prejudices?
+If the people of the District wish to get rid of the institution
+of domestic slavery, there are ways for ascertaining the fact; and
+once assured of that, Congress ought to give the required relief.
+But in framing such a law, great care should be taken not to
+violate the comity of the Union. The comity of nations is, in
+practice, a portion of their laws, and is respected as such; how
+much more, then, ought we to respect this comity in managing
+the relations between the several States of this Union!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, the <em>sovereign</em> States of the Union,” laying emphasis
+on the word we have italicized.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Pshaw—they are no more sovereign than you and I are sovereign.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not sovereign, sir!” exclaimed Timms, actually jumping to
+his feet in astonishment; “why this is against the National Faith—contrary
+to all the theories.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Something so, I must confess; yet very good common sense.
+If there be any sovereignty left in the States, it is the very
+minimum, and a thing of show, rather than of substance. If
+you will look at the Constitution, you will find that the equal
+representation of the States in the Senate is the only right of
+sovereign character that is left to the members of the Union
+separate and apart from their confederated communities.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms rubbed his brows, and seemed to be in some mental
+trouble. The doctrine of the “Sovereign States” is so very common,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>so familiar in men’s mouths, that no one dreams of disputing
+it. Nevertheless, Dunscomb had a great reputation in his set, as
+a constitutional lawyer; and the “expounders” were very apt to
+steal his demonstrations, without giving him credit for them. As
+before the nation, a school-boy would have carried equal weight;
+but the direct, vigorous, common-sense arguments that he brought
+to the discussions, as well as the originality of his views, ever
+commanded the profound respect of the intelligent. Timms had
+cut out for himself a path by which he intended to ascend in the
+scale of society; and had industriously, if not very profoundly,
+considered all the agitating questions of the day, in the relations
+they might be supposed to bear to his especial interests. He had
+almost determined to come out an abolitionist; for he saw that
+the prejudices of the hour were daily inclining the electors of the
+northern States, more and more, to oppose the further extension
+of domestic slavery, so far as surface was concerned, which was
+in effect preparing the way for the final destruction of the institution
+altogether. For Mr. Dunscomb, however, this wily limb
+of the law, and skilful manager of men, had the most profound
+respect; and he was very glad to draw him out still further on a
+subject that was getting to be of such intense interest to himself,
+as well as to the nation at large; for, out of all doubt, it is <em>the</em>
+question, not only of the “Hour,” but for years to come.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, sir, this surprises me more and more. The States not
+sovereign!—Why, they <em>gave</em> all the power it possesses to the
+Federal Government!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true; and it is precisely for <em>that</em> reason they are not
+sovereign—that which is given away is no longer possessed. All
+the great powers of sovereignty are directly bestowed on the
+Union, which alone possesses them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I will grant you that, ’Squire; but enough is retained to
+hang either of us. The deuce is in it if that be not a sovereign
+power.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>“It does not follow from the instance cited. Send a squadron
+abroad, and its officers can hang; but they are not sovereign, for
+the simple reason that there is a recognised authority over them,
+which can increase, sustain, or take away altogether, any such
+and all other power. Thus is it with the States. By a particular
+clause, the Constitution can be amended, including all the interests
+involved, with a single exception. This is an instance in which
+the exception does strictly prove the rule. All interests but the
+one excepted can be dealt with, by a species of legislation that is
+higher than common. The Union can constitutionally abolish
+domestic slavery altogether——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It can!—It would be the making of any political man’s fortune
+to be able to show <em>that</em>!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nothing is easier than to show it, in the way of theory,
+Timms; though nothing would be harder to achieve, in the way
+of practice. The Constitution can be legally amended so as to
+effect this end, provided majorities in three-fourths of the States
+can be obtained; though every living soul in the remaining States
+were opposed to it. That this is the just construction of the
+great fundamental law, as it has been solemnly adopted, no discreet
+man can doubt; though, on the other hand, no discreet
+person would think of attempting such a measure, as the vote
+necessary to success cannot be obtained. To talk of the sovereignty
+of a community over this particular interest, for instance,
+when all the authority on the subject can be taken from it in
+direct opposition to the wishes of every man, woman and child
+it contains, is an absurdity. The sovereignty, as respects slavery,
+is in the Union, and not in the several States; and therein you
+can see the fallacy of contending that Congress has nothing to do
+with the interest, when Congress can take the initiative in altering
+this or any other clause of the great national compact.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But, the Deestrict—the Deestrict, ’Squire Dunscomb—what
+can and ought to be done there?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>“I believe in my soul, Timms, you have an aim on a seat in
+Congress! Why stop short of the Presidency? Men as little
+likely as yourself to be elevated to that high office have been
+placed in the executive chair; and why not you as well as another?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is an office ‘neither to be sought nor declined,’ said an
+eminent statesman,” answered Timms, with a seriousness that
+amused his companion; who saw, by his manner, that his old
+pupil held himself in reserve for the accidents of political life.
+“But, sir, I am very anxious to get right on the subject of the
+Deestrict”—Timms pronounced this word as we have spelt it—“and
+I know that if any man can set me right, it is yourself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As respects the District, Mr. Timms, here is my faith. It
+is a territory provided for in the Constitution for a national purpose,
+and must be regarded as strictly national property, held
+exclusively for objects that call all classes of citizens within its
+borders. Now, two great principles, in my view, should control
+all legislation for this little community. As I have said already,
+it would be tyranny to make the notions and policy of New York
+or Vermont bear on the legislation of the District; but, every
+member is bound to act strictly as a representative of the people
+of the spot for whom the law is intended. If I were in Congress,
+I would at any time, on a respectable application, vote to refer
+the question of abolition to the people of the District; if they
+said ay, I would say ay; if no, no. Beyond this I would never
+go; nor do I think the man who wishes to push matters beyond
+this, sufficiently respects the general principles of representative
+government, or knows how to respect the spirit of the national
+compact. On the supposition that the District ask relief from
+the institution of slavery, great care should be observed in granting
+the necessary legislation. Although the man in South Carolina
+has no more right to insist that the District should maintain
+the ‘peculiar institution,’ because his particular State maintains
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>it, than the Vermontese to insist on carrying his Green Mountain
+notions into the District laws; yet has the Carolinian rights in
+this territory that must ever he respected, let the general policy
+adopted be what it may. Every American has an implied right
+to visit the District on terms of equality. Now, there would be
+no equality if a law were passed excluding the domestics from
+any portion of the country. In the slave States, slaves exclusively
+perform the functions of domestics; and sweeping abolition
+might very easily introduce regulations that would be unjust towards
+the slave-holders. As respects the northern man, the
+existence of slavery in or out of the District is purely a speculative
+question; but it is not so with the southern. This should
+never be forgotten; and I always feel disgust when I hear a
+northern man swagger and make a parade of his morality on this
+subject.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But the southern men swagger and make a parade of their
+chivalry, ’Squire, on the other hand!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Quite true; but, with them, there is a strong provocation.
+It is a matter of life and death to the south; and the comity of
+which I spoke requires great moderation on our part. As for the
+threats of dissolution, of which we have had so many, like the
+cry of ‘wolf,’ they have worn themselves out, and are treated
+with indifference.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The threat is still used, Mr. Dunscomb!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Beyond a doubt, Timms; but of one thing you may rest well
+assured—if ever there be a separation between the free and the
+slave States of this Union, the wedge will be driven home by
+northern hands; not by indirection, but coolly, steadily, and with
+a thorough northern determination to open the seam. There
+will be no fuss about chivalry, but the thing will be done. I
+regard the measure as very unlikely to happen, the Mississippi
+and its tributaries binding the States together, to say nothing of
+ancestry, history, and moral ties, in a way to render a rupture
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>very difficult to effect; but, should it come at all, rely on it, it
+will come directly from the north. I am sorry to say there is an
+impatience of the threats and expedients that have so much disfigured
+southern policy, that have set many at the north to ‘calculating
+the value;’ and thousands may now be found where ten
+years since it would not have been easy to meet with one, who
+deem separation better than union with slavery. Still, the
+general feeling of the north is passive; and I trust it will so continue.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Look at the laws for the recovery of fugitives, ’Squire, and
+the manner in which they are administered.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Bad enough, I grant you, and full of a want of good faith.
+Go to the bottom of this subject, Timms, or let it alone altogether.
+Some men will tell you that slavery is a sin, and contrary
+to revealed religion. This I hold to be quite untrue. At all
+events, if it be a sin, it is a sin to give the son the rich inheritance
+of the father, instead of dividing it among the poor; to eat
+a dinner while a hungrier man than yourself is within sound of
+your voice; or, indeed, to do anything that is necessary and agreeable,
+when the act may be still more necessary to, or confer greater
+pleasure on, another. I believe in a Providence; and I make
+little doubt that African slavery is an important feature in God’s
+Laws, instead of being disobedience to them.—But enough of
+this, Timms—you will court popularity, which is your Archimedean
+lever, and forget all I tell you. Is Mary Monson in greater
+favour now than when I last saw you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The question is not easily answered, sir. She pays well, and
+money is a powerful screw!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not inquire what you do with her money,” said Dunscomb,
+with the evasion of a man who knew that it would not do
+to probe every weak spot in morals, any more than it would do
+to inflame the diseases of the body; “but, I own, I should like
+to know if our client has any suspicions of its uses?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>Timms now cast a furtive glance behind him, and edged his
+chair nearer to his companion, in a confidential way, as if he
+would trust <em>him</em> with a private opinion that he should keep religiously
+from all others.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not only does she know all about it,” he answered, with a
+knowing inclination of the head, “but she enters into the affair,
+heart and hand. To my great surprise, she has even made two
+or three suggestions that were capital in their way! Capital!
+yes, sir; quite capital! If you were not so stiff in your practice,
+’Squire, I should delight to tell you all about it. She’s sharp,
+you may depend on it! She’s wonderfully sharp!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What!—That refined, lady-like, accomplished young woman!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She has an accomplishment or two you’ve never dreamed
+of, ’Squire. I’d pit her ag’in the sharpest practitioner in Duke’s,
+and she’d come out ahead. I thought I knew something of preparing
+a cause; but she has given hints that will be worth more
+to me than all her fees!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You do not mean that she shows <em>experience</em> in such practices?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps not. It seems more like mother-wit, I acknowledge;
+but it’s mother-wit of the brightest sort. She understands them
+reporters by instinct, as it might be. What is more, she backs
+all her suggestions with gold, or current bank-notes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And where can she get so much money?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is more than I can tell you,” returned Timms, opening
+some papers belonging to the case, and laying them a little formally
+before the senior counsel, to invite his particular attention.
+“I’ve never thought it advisable to ask the question.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Timms, you do not, <em>cannot</em> think Mary Monson guilty?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I never go beyond the necessary facts of a case; and my
+opinion is of no consequence whatever. We are employed to
+defend her; and the counsel for the State are not about to get a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>verdict without some working for it. That’s my conscience in
+these matters, ’Squire Dunscomb.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb asked no more questions. He turned gloomily to
+the papers, shoved his glass aside, as if it gave him pleasure no
+longer, and began to read. For near four hours he and Timms
+were earnestly engaged in preparing a brief, and in otherwise
+getting the cause ready for trial.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'><i>Hel.</i> O, that my prayers could such affection move!</div>
+ <div class='line'><i>Her.</i> The more I hate, the more he follows me.</div>
+ <div class='line'><i>Hel.</i> The more I love, the more he hateth me.</div>
+ <div class='line'><i>Her.</i> His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine.</div>
+ <div class='line in28'><cite>Midsummer Night’s Dream</cite>.</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>While Dunscomb and Timms were thus employed, the younger
+members of the party very naturally sought modes of entertainment
+that were more in conformity with their tastes and years.
+John Wilmeter had been invited to be present at the consultation;
+but his old feelings were revived, and he found a pleasure
+in being with Anna that induced him to disregard the request.
+His sister and his friend were now betrothed, and they had
+glided off along one of the pretty paths of the Rattletrap
+woods, in a way that is so very common to persons in their situation.
+This left Jack alone with Anna. The latter was timid,
+shy even; while the former was thoughtful. Still, it was not
+easy to separate; and they, too, almost unconsciously to themselves,
+were soon walking in that pleasant wood, following one
+of its broadest and most frequented paths, however.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>John, naturally enough, imputed the thoughtfulness of his
+companion to the event of the morning; and he spoke kindly to
+her, and with a gentle delicacy on the subject, that more than
+once compelled the warm-hearted girl to struggle against her
+tears. After he had said enough on this topic, the young man
+followed the current of his own thoughts, and spoke of her he
+had left in the gaol of Biberry.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>“Her case is most extraordinary,” continued John, “and it
+has excited our liveliest sympathy. By ours, I mean the disinterested
+and intelligent; for the vulgar prejudice is strong against
+her. Sarah, or even yourself, Anna”—his companion looked
+more like herself, at this implied compliment, than she had done
+before that day—“could not seem less likely to be guilty of anything
+wrong, than this Miss Monson; yet she stands indicted,
+and is to be tried for murder and arson! To me, it seems monstrous
+to suspect such a person of crimes so heinous.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna remained silent half a minute; for she had sufficient
+good sense to know that appearances, unless connected with facts,
+ought to have no great weight in forming an opinion of guilt or
+innocence. As Jack evidently expected an answer, however, his
+companion made an effort to speak.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does she say nothing of her friends, nor express a wish to
+have them informed of her situation?” Anna succeeded in
+asking.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not a syllable. I could not speak to her on the subject, you
+know——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why not?” demanded Anna, quickly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why not?—You’ve no notion, Anna, of the kind of person
+this Miss Monson is. You cannot talk to <em>her</em> as you would to an
+every-day sort of young lady; and, now she is in such distress,
+one is naturally more cautious about saying anything to add to
+her sorrow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, I can understand <em>that</em>,” returned the generous-minded
+girl; “and I think you are very right to remember all this, on
+every occasion. Still, it is so natural for a female to lean on her
+friends, in every great emergency, I cannot but wonder that your
+client——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Don’t call her my <em>client</em>, Anna, I beg of you. I hate the
+word as applied to this lady. If I serve her in any degree, it is
+solely as a friend. The same feeling prevails with Uncle Tom;
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>for I understand he has not received a cent of Miss Monson’s
+money, though she is liberal of it to profuseness. Timms is
+actually getting rich on it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is it usual for you gentlemen of the bar to give their services
+gratuitously to those who can pay for them?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As far from it as possible,” returned Jack, laughing. “We
+look to the main chance like so many merchants or brokers, and
+seldom open our mouths without shutting our hearts. But this
+is a case altogether out of the common rule; and Mr. Dunscomb
+works for love, and not for money.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Had Anna cared less for John Wilmeter, she might have said
+something clever about the nephew’s being in the same category
+as the uncle; but her feelings were too deeply interested to suffer
+her even to think what would seem to her profane. After a moment’s
+pause, therefore, she quietly said—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe you have intimated that Mr. Timms is not quite so
+disinterested?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not he—Miss Monson has given him fees amounting to a
+thousand dollars, by his own admission; and the fellow has had
+the conscience to take the money. I have remonstrated about
+his fleecing a friendless woman in this extravagant manner; but
+he laughs in my face for my pains. Timms has good points, but
+honesty is not one of them. He says no woman can be friendless
+who has a pretty face, and a pocket full of money.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You can hardly call a person unfriended who has so much
+money at command, John,” Anna answered with timidity; but
+not without manifest interest in the subject. “A thousand dollars
+sounds like a large sum to me!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is a good deal of money for a fee; though much more is
+sometimes given. I dare say Miss Monson would have gladly
+given the same to uncle Tom, if he would have taken it. Timms
+told me that she proposed offering as much to him; but be persuaded
+her to wait until the trial was over.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>“And where does all this money come from, John?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m sure I do not know—I am not at all in Miss Monson’s
+confidence; on her pecuniary affairs, at least. She <em>does</em> honour
+me so much as to consult me about her trial occasionally, it is
+true; but to me she has never alluded to money, except to ask
+me to obtain change for large notes. I do not see anything so
+very wonderful in a lady’s having money. You, who are a sort
+of heiress yourself, ought to know that.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not get money in thousands, I can assure you, Jack;
+nor do I think that I have it to get. I believe my whole income
+would not much more than meet the expenditure of this strange
+woman——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not call her <em>woman</em>, Anna; it pains me to hear you speak
+of her in such terms.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I beg her pardon and yours, Jack; but I meant no disrespect.
+We are all women.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know it is foolish to feel nervous on such a subject; but I
+cannot help it. One connects so many ideas of vulgarity and
+crime, with prisons, and indictments, and trials, that we are apt
+to suppose all who are accused to belong to the commoner classes.
+Such is not the fact with Miss Monson, I can assure you. Not
+even Sarah—nay, not even <em>yourself</em>, my dear Anna, can pretend
+to more decided marks of refinement and education. I do not
+know a more distinguished young woman——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There, Jack; now <em>you</em> call her a woman yourself,” interrupted
+Anna, a little archly; secretly delighted at the compliment she
+had just heard.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<em>Young</em> woman—anybody can say <em>that</em>, you know, without
+implying anything common or vulgar; and <em>woman</em> too, sometimes.
+I do not know how it was; but I did not exactly like
+the word as you happened to use it. I believe close and long
+watching is making me nervous; and I am not quite as much
+myself as usual.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>Anna gave a very soft sigh, and that seemed to afford her
+relief, though it was scarcely audible; then she continued the
+subject.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How old is this extraordinary young lady?” she demanded,
+scarce speaking loud enough to be heard.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Old! How can I tell? She is very youthful in appearance;
+but, from the circumstance of her having so much money at
+command, I take it for granted she is of age. The law now gives
+to every woman the full command of all her property, even though
+married, after she become of age.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which I trust you find a very proper attention to the rights
+of our sex!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I care very little about it; though Uncle Tom says it is of a
+piece with all our late New York legislation.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Dunscomb, like most elderly persons, has little taste for
+change.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is not that. He thinks that minds of an ordinary stamp
+are running away with the conceit that they are on the road of
+progress; and that most of our recent improvements, as they are
+called, are marked by empiricism. This ‘tea-cup law,’ as he
+terms it, will set the women above their husbands, and create two
+sets of interests where there ought to be but one.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; I am aware such is his opinion. He remarked, the
+day he brought home my mother’s settlement for the signatures,
+that it was the most ticklish part of his profession to prepare such
+papers. I remember one of his observations, which struck me as
+being very just.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which you mean to repeat to me, Anna?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly, John, if you wish to hear it,” returned a gentle
+voice, coming from one unaccustomed to refuse any of the reasonable
+requests of this particular applicant. “The remark of Mr.
+Dunscomb was this:—He said that most family misunderstandings
+grew out of money; and he thought it unwise to set it up
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>as a bone of contention between man and wife. Where there was
+so close a union in all other matters, he thought there might
+safely be a community of interests in this respect. He saw no
+sufficient reason for altering the old law, which had the great
+merit of having been tried.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He could hardly persuade rich fathers, and vigilant guardians,
+who have the interests of heiresses to look after, to subscribe to
+all his notions. They say that it is better to make a provision
+against imprudence and misfortune, by settling a woman’s fortune
+on herself, in a country where speculation tempts so many to
+their ruin.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not object to anything that may have an eye to an evil
+day, provided it be done openly and honestly. But the income
+should be common property, and like all that belongs to a family,
+should pass under the control of its head.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is very liberal in you to say and think this, Anna!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is what every woman, who has a true woman’s heart,
+could wish, and would do. For myself, I would marry no man
+whom I did not respect and look up to in most things; and
+surely, if I gave him my heart and my hand, I could wish to
+give him as much control over my means as circumstances would
+at all allow. It might be prudent to provide against misfortune
+by means of settlements; but this much done, I feel certain it
+would afford me the greatest delight to commit all that I could
+to a husband’s keeping.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Suppose that husband were a spendthrift, and wasted your
+estate?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He could waste but the income, were there a settlement; and
+I would rather share the consequences of his imprudence with
+him, than sit aloof in selfish enjoyment of that in which he did
+not partake.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this sounded very well in John’s ears; and he knew Anna
+Updyke too well to suppose she did not fully mean all that she
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span><a id='corr204.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='said'>said.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_204.1'><ins class='correction' title='said'>said.</ins></a></span> He wondered what might be Mary Monson’s views on this
+subject.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is possible for the husband to partake of the wife’s wealth,
+even when he does not command it,” the young man resumed,
+anxious to hear what more Anna might have to say.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What! as a dependant on her bounty? No woman who respects
+herself could wish to see her husband so degraded; nay,
+no female, who has a true woman’s heart, would ever consent to
+place the man to whom she has given her hand, in so false a
+position. It is for the woman to be dependent on the man, and
+not the man on the woman. I agree fully with Mr. Dunscomb,
+when he says that ‘silken knots are too delicate to be rudely undone
+by dollars.’ The family in which the head has to ask the
+wife for the money that is to support it, must soon go wrong; as
+it is placing the weaker vessel uppermost.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You would make a capital wife, Anna, if these are really
+your opinions!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna blushed, and almost repented of her generous warmth,
+but, being perfectly sincere, she would not deny her sentiments.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They ought to be the opinion of every wife,” she answered.
+“I could not endure to see the man to whom I could wish on all
+occasions to look up, soliciting the means on which we both subsisted.
+It would be my delight, if I had money and he had none,
+to pour all into his lap, and then come and ask of him as much
+as was necessary to my <a id='corr204.25'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='comfort'>comfort.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_204.25'><ins class='correction' title='comfort'>comfort.</ins></a></span>”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If he had the soul of a man he would not wait to be asked,
+but would endeavour to anticipate your smallest wants. I believe
+you are right, and that happiness is best secured by confidence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And in not reversing the laws of nature. Why do women
+vow to obey and honour their husbands, if they are to retain them
+as dependants? I declare, John Wilmeter, I should almost despise
+the man who could consent to live with me on any terms
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>but those in which nature, the church, and reason, unite in telling
+us he ought to be the superior.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, Anna, this is good, old-fashioned, womanly sentiment;
+and I will confess it delights me to hear it from <em>you</em>. I am the
+better pleased, because, as Uncle Tom is always complaining, the
+weakness of the hour is to place your sex above ours, and to reverse
+all the ancient rules in this respect. Let a woman, now-a-days,
+run away from her husband, and carry off the children; it
+is ten to one but some crotchety judge, who thinks more of a
+character built up on gossip than of deferring properly to that
+which the laws of God and the wisdom of man have decreed, refuse
+to issue a writ of <span lang="la"><i>habeas corpus</i></span> to restore the issue to the
+parent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not know, John,”—Anna hesitatingly rejoined, with a
+true woman’s instinct—“it <em>would</em> be so hard to rob a mother of
+her children!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It might be <em>hard</em>, but in such a case it would be <em>just</em>. I
+like that word ‘rob,’ for it suits both parties. To me, it seems
+that the father is the party robbed, when the wife not only steals
+away from her duty to her husband, but deprives him of his
+children too.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is wrong, and I have heard Mr. Dunscomb express great
+indignation at what he called the ‘soft-soapiness’ of certain judges
+in cases of this nature. Still, John, the world is apt to think a
+woman would not abandon the most sacred of her duties without
+a cause. That feeling must be at the bottom of what you call
+the decision, I believe, of these judges.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If there be such a cause as would justify a woman in deserting
+her husband, and in stealing his children—for it is robbery
+after all, and robbery of the worst sort, since it involves breaches
+of faith of the most heinous nature—let that cause be shown,
+that justice may pronounce between the parties. Besides, it is
+not true that women will not sometimes forget their duties without
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>sufficient cause. There are capricious, and uncertain, and
+egotistical women, who follow their own wayward inclinations, as
+well as selfish men. Some women love power intensely, and are
+never satisfied with simply filling the place that was intended for
+them by nature. It is hard for such to submit to their husbands,
+or, indeed, to submit to any one.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It must be a strange female,” answered Anna, gently, “who
+cannot suffer the control of the man of her choice, after quitting
+father and mother for his sake.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Different women have different sources of pride, that make
+their husbands very uncomfortable, even when they remain with
+them, and affect to discharge their duties. One will pride herself
+on family, and take every occasion to let her beloved partner
+know how much better she is connected than he may happen to
+be; another is conceited, and fancies herself cleverer than her
+lord and master, and would fain have him take <em>her</em> advice on all
+occasions; while a third may have the most money, and delight
+in letting it be known that it is <em>her</em> pocket that sustains the
+household.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did not know, John, that you thought so much of these
+things,” said Anna, laughing; “though I think you are very
+right in your opinions. Pray, which of the three evils that you
+have mentioned would you conceive the greatest?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The second. I might stand family pride; though it is disgusting
+when it is not ridiculous. Then the money might be got
+along with for its own sake, provided the purse were in my hand;
+but I really do not think I could live with a woman who fancied
+she knew the most.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But, in many things, women ought to, and <em>do</em> know the
+most.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! as to accomplishments, and small talk, and making
+preserves, and dancing, and even poetry and religion—yes, I
+will throw in religion—I could wish my wife to be clever—very
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>clever—as clever as you are yourself, Anna”—The fair listener
+coloured, though her eyes brightened at this unintended but very
+direct compliment—“Yes, yes; all that would do well <a id='corr207.3'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='enough'>enough.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_207.3'><ins class='correction' title='enough'>enough.</ins></a></span>
+But when it came to the affairs of men, out-of-door concerns, or
+politics, or law, or anything, indeed, that called for a masculine
+education and understanding, I could not endure a woman who
+fancied she knew the most.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should think few wives would dream of troubling their
+husbands with their opinions touching the law!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I don’t know that. You’ve no notion, Anna, to what a pass
+conceit can carry a person;—you, who are so diffident and shy,
+and always so ready to yield to those who ought to know best.
+I’ve met with women who, not content with arraying their own
+charms in their own way, must fancy they can teach us how to
+put on our clothes, tell us how to turn over a wristband, or settle
+a shirt-collar!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is not conceit, John, but good taste,” cried Anna, now
+laughing outright, and appearing herself again. “It is merely
+female tact teaching male awkwardness how to adorn itself. But,
+surely, no woman, John, would bother herself about law, let her
+love of domination be as strong as it might.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m not so sure of that. The only really complaisant thing
+I ever saw about this Mary Monson”—a cloud again passed
+athwart the bright countenance of Anna—“was a sort of strange
+predilection for law. Even Timms has remarked it, and commented
+on it too.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The poor woman——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not use that word in speaking of her, if you please, Anna.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, lady—if you like that better——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No—say young lady—or Miss Monson—or Mary, which
+has the most agreeable sound of all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yet, I think I have been told that none of you believe she
+has been indicted by her real name.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>“Very true; but it makes no difference. Call her by that she
+has assumed; but do not call her by an alias as wretched as that
+of ‘poor woman.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I meant no slight, I do assure you, John; for I feel almost
+as much interest in Miss Monson as you do yourself. It is not
+surprising, however, that one in her situation should feel an interest
+in the law.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is not this sort of interest that I mean. It has seemed to
+me, once or twice, that she dealt with the difficulties of her own
+case as if she took a pleasure in meeting them—had a species
+of professional pleasure in conquering them. Timms will not let
+me into his secrets, and I am glad of it, for I fancy all of them
+would not bear the light; but he tells me, honestly, that some
+of Miss Monson’s suggestions have been quite admirable!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps she has been”—Anna checked herself with the
+consciousness that what she was about to utter might appear to
+be, and what was of still greater importance in her own eyes,
+might really be, ungenerous.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps what? Finish the sentence, I beg of you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna shook her head.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You intended to say that perhaps Miss Monson had some
+<em>experience</em> in the law, and that it gave her a certain satisfaction
+to contend with its difficulties, in consequence of previous training.
+Am I not right?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna would not answer in terms; but she gave a little nod in
+assent, colouring scarlet.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I knew it; and I will be frank enough to own that Timms
+thinks the same thing. He has hinted as much as that; but the
+thing is impossible. You have only to look at her, to see that
+such a thing is impossible.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna Updyke thought that almost anything of the sort might
+be possible to a female who was in the circumstances of the accused;
+this, however, she would not say, lest it might wound
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>John’s feelings, for which she had all the tenderness of warm
+affection, and a woman’s self-denial. Had the case been reversed,
+it is by no means probable that her impulsive companion would
+have manifested the same forbearance on her account. John
+would have contended for victory, and pressed his adversary with
+all the arguments, facts and reasons he could muster, on such an
+occasion. Not so with the gentler and more thoughtful young
+woman who was now walking quietly, and a little sadly, at his
+side, instinct with all the gentleness, self-denial, and warm-hearted
+affection of her sex.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, it is worse than an absurdity”—resumed John—“it is
+cruel, to imagine anything of the sort of Miss ——By the way,
+Anna, do you know that a very singular thing occurred last evening,
+before I drove over to town, to be present at the wedding.
+You know Marie Mill?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly—Marie Moulin, you should say.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, in answering one of her mistress’s questions, she said
+‘oui, <em>Madame</em>.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What would you have had her say?—‘<em>non</em>, Madame?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But why Madame at all?—Why not Mademoiselle?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It would be very vulgar to say ‘Yes, Miss,’ in English.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To be sure it would; but it is very different in French. One
+<em>can</em> say—<em>must</em> say Mademoiselle to a young unmarried female
+in that language; though it be vulgar to say Miss, without the
+name, in English. French, you know, Anna, is a much more
+precise language than our own; and those who speak it, do not
+take the liberties with it that we take with the English. <em>Madame</em>
+always infers a married woman; unless, indeed, it be with a woman
+a hundred years old.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No French woman is ever <em>that</em>, John—but it <em>is</em> odd that
+Marie Moulin, who so well understands the usages of her own
+little world, should have said <em>Madame</em> to a <span lang="fr"><i>démoiselle</i></span>. Have I
+not heard, nevertheless, that Marie’s first salutation, when she
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>was admitted to the gaol, was a simple exclamation of ‘Mademoiselle?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is very true; for I heard it myself. What is more,
+that exclamation was almost as remarkable as this; French servants
+always adding the name under such circumstances, unless
+they are addressing their own particular mistresses. Madame,
+and Mademoiselle, are appropriated to those they serve; while it
+is Mademoiselle this, or Madame that, to every one else.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And now she calls her <span lang="fr"><i>Mademoiselle</i></span> or <span lang="fr"><i>Madame</i></span>! It only
+proves that too much importance is not to be attached to Marie
+Moulin’s sayings and doings.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m not so sure of that. Marie has been three years in this
+country, as we all know. Now the young person that she left a
+<span lang="fr"><i>Mademoiselle</i></span> might very well have become a <span lang="fr"><i>Madame</i></span> in that
+interval of time. When they met, the domestic may have used
+the old and familiar term in her surprise; or she may not have
+known of the lady’s marriage. Afterwards, when there had been
+leisure for explanations between them, she gave her mistress her
+proper appellation.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does she habitually say Madame now, in speaking to this
+singular being?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Habitually she is silent. Usually she remains in the cell,
+when any one is with Miss—or Mrs. Monson, perhaps I ought
+to say”—John used this last term with a strong expression of
+spite, which gave his companion a suppressed but infinite delight—“but
+when any one is with the mistress, call her what you
+will, the maid commonly remains in the dungeon or cell. Owing
+to this, I have never been in the way of hearing the last address
+the first, except on the two occasions named. I confess I begin
+to think——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What, John?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, that our <em>Miss</em> Monson may turn out to be a married
+woman, after all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>“She is very young, is she not? Almost too young to be a
+wife?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not at all! What do you call too young? She is between
+twenty and twenty-two or three. She may even be twenty-five
+or six.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna sighed, though almost imperceptibly to herself; for these
+were ages that well suited her companion, though the youngest
+exceeded her own by a twelvemonth. Little more, however, was
+said on the subject at that interview.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is one of the singular effects of the passion of love, more
+especially with the generous-minded and just of the female sex,
+that a lively interest is often awakened in behalf of a successful
+or favoured rival. Such was now the fact as regards the feeling
+that Anna Updyke began to entertain towards Mary Monson.
+The critical condition of the lady would of itself excite interest
+where it failed to produce distrust; but, the circumstance that
+John Wilmeter saw so much to admire in this unknown female,
+if he did not actually love her, gave her an importance in the
+eyes of Anna that at once elevated her into an object of the
+highest interest. She was seized with the liveliest desire to see
+the accused, and began seriously to reflect on the possibility of
+effecting such an end. No vulgar curiosity was mingled with
+this new-born purpose; but, in addition to the motives that were
+connected with John’s state of mind, there was a benevolent and
+truly feminine wish, on the part of Anna, to be of service to one
+of her own sex, so cruelly placed, and cut off, as it would seem,
+from all communication with those who should be her natural
+protectors and advisers.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna Updyke gathered, through that which had fallen from
+Wilmeter and his sister, that the intercourse between the former
+and his interesting client had been of the most reserved character;
+therein showing a discretion and self-respect on the part of the
+prisoner, that spoke well for her education and delicacy. How
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>such a woman came to be in the extraordinary position in which
+she was placed, was of course as much a mystery to her as to all
+others; though, like every one else who knew aught of the case,
+she indulged in conjectures of her own on the subject. Being
+of a particularly natural and frank disposition, without a particle
+of any ungenerous or detracting quality, and filled with woman’s
+kindness in her very soul, this noble-minded young woman began
+now to feel far more than an idle curiosity in behalf of her who
+had so lately caused herself so much pain, not to say bitterness
+of anguish. All was forgotten in pity for the miserable condition
+of the unconscious offender; unconscious, for Anna was sufficiently
+clear-sighted and just to see and to admit that, if John had been
+led astray by the charms and sufferings of this stranger, the fact
+could not rightfully be imputed to the last, as a fault. Every
+statement of John’s went to confirm this act of justice to the
+stranger.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Then, the unaccountable silence of Marie Moulin doubled the
+mystery and greatly increased the interest of the whole affair.
+This woman had gone to Biberry pledged to communicate to
+Sarah all she knew or might learn, touching the accused; and
+well did Anna know that her friend would make her the repository
+of her own information, on this as well as on other
+subjects; but a most unaccountable silence governed the course
+of the domestic, as well as that of her strange mistress. It really
+seemed that, in passing the principal door of the gaol, Marie
+Moulin had buried herself in a convent, where all communication
+with the outer world was forbidden. Three several letters from
+Sarah had John handed in at the grate, certain that they must
+have reached the hands of the Swiss; but no answer had been
+received. All attempts to speak to Marie were quietly, but most
+ingeniously evaded, by the tact and readiness of the prisoner;
+and the hope of obtaining information from that source was
+abandoned by Sarah, who was too proud to solicit a servant for
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>that which the last was reluctant to communicate. With Anna
+the feeling was different. She had no curiosity on the subject,
+separated from a most generous and womanly concern in the
+prisoner’s forlorn state; and she thought far less of Marie
+Moulin’s disrespect and forgetfulness of her word, than of Mary
+Monson’s desolation and approaching trial.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id005'>
+<img src='images/i_217.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>Was it for this we sent out</div>
+ <div class='line'>Liberty’s cry from our shore?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Was it for this that her shout</div>
+ <div class='line'>Thrill’d to the world’s very core?</div>
+ <div class='line in14'><cite>Moore’s National Airs.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The third day after the interviews just related, the whole party
+left Rattletrap for Timbully, where their arrival was expected by
+the bride and bridegroom, if such terms can be applied to a woman
+of forty-five and a man of sixty. The Duke’s county circuit
+and oyer and terminer were about to be held, and it was believed
+that Mary Monson was to be tried. By this time so lively an
+interest prevailed among the ladies of the McBrain and Dunscomb
+connections in behalf of the accused, that they had all come to a
+determination to be present in court. Curiosity was not so much
+at the bottom of this movement as womanly kindness and sympathy.
+There seemed a bitterness of misery in the condition of
+Mary Monson, that appealed directly to the heart; and that silent
+but eloquent appeal was answered, as has just been stated, generously
+and with warmth by the whole party from town. With
+Anna Updyke the feeling went materially farther than with any
+of her friends. Strange as it may seem, her interest in John
+increased that which she felt for his mysterious client; and her
+feelings became enlisted in the stranger’s behalf, so much the
+more, in consequence of this triangular sort of passion.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The morning of the day on which the party crossed the country
+from Rattletrap to Timbully, Timms arrived at the latter <a id='corr214.27'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='place'>place.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_214.27'><ins class='correction' title='place'>place.</ins></a></span>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>He was expected, and was soon after closeted with the senior
+counsel in the pending and most important cause.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does the District Attorney intend to move for the trial?”
+demanded Dunscomb, the instant the two were alone.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He tells me he does, sir; and that early in the week, too.
+It is my opinion we should go for postponement. We are hardly
+ready, while the State is too much so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not comprehend this, Timms. The law-officers of the
+public would hardly undertake to run down a victim, and she a
+solitary and unprotected woman!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That’s not it. The law-officers of the State don’t care a
+straw whether Mary Monson is found guilty or is acquitted. That
+is, they care nothing about it <em>at present</em>. The case may be different
+when they are warmed up by a trial and opposition. Our danger
+comes from Jesse Davis, who is a nephew of Peter Goodwin,
+his next of kin and heir, and who thinks a great deal of money
+was hoarded by the old people; much more than the stocking
+ever held or could hold, and who has taken it into his wise head
+that the prisoner has laid hands on this treasure, and is carrying
+on her defence with his cash. This has roused him completely,
+and he has retained two of the sharpest counsel on our circuit,
+who are beginning to work as if the bargain has been clenched in
+the hard metal. Williams has given me a great deal of trouble
+already. I know him; he will not work without pay; but pay
+him liberally, and he is up to anything.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, you are diamond cut diamond, Timms—outsiders in the
+profession. You understand that I work only in the open court,
+and will know nothing of this out-door management.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We do not mean to let you know anything about it, ’Squire,”
+returned Timms, drily. “Each man to his own manner of
+getting along. I ought to tell you, however, it has got out that
+you are working without a fee, while I am paid in the most liberal
+manner.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>“I am sorry for that. There is no great harm in the thing
+itself; but I dislike the parade of seeming to be unusually generous.
+I do not remember to have spoken of this circumstance
+where it would be likely to be repeated; and I beg you will be
+equally discreet.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The fact has not come from me, I can assure you, sir. It
+puts me in too awkward a position to delight me; and I make it
+a point to say as little as possible of what is disagreeable. I do
+not relish the idea of being thought selfish by my future constituents.
+Giniros’ty is my cue before <em>them</em>. But they say you
+work for love, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Love!” answered Dunscomb, quickly—“Love of what?—or
+of <em>whom</em>?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Of your client—that’s the story now. It is said that you
+admire Miss Monson; that she is young, and handsome, and
+rich; and she is to marry you, if acquitted. If found guilty
+and hanged, the bargain is off, of course. You may look displeased,
+’Squire; but I give you my word such is the rumour.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb was extremely vexed; but he was too proud to
+make any answer. He knew that he had done that which, among
+the mass of this nation, is a very capital mistake, in not placing
+before its observation an intelligible <em>motive</em>—one on the level
+of the popular mind—to prevent these freaks of the fancy dealing
+with his affairs. It is true, that the natural supposition would
+be that he worked for his fee, as did Timms, had not the contrary
+got out; when he became subject to all the crude conjectures of
+those who ever look for the worst motives for everything. Had
+he been what is termed a favourite public servant, the very reverse
+would have been the case, and there was little that he might not
+have done with impunity; but, having no such claims on the
+minds of the mass, he came under the common law which somewhat
+distinguishes their control. Too much disgusted, however,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>to continue this branch of the subject, the worthy counsellor at
+once adverted to another.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you looked over the list of the jurors, Timms?” he
+demanded, continuing to sort his papers.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That I never fail to do, sir, the first thing. It’s my brief,
+you know, ’Squire Dunscomb. All <em>safe</em> York law, now-a-days,
+is to be found in that learned body; especially in criminal cases.
+There is but one sort of suit in which the jury counts for nothing,
+and might as well be dispensed with.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which is——?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“An ejectment cause. It’s not one time in ten that they understand
+anything about the matter, or care anything about it;
+and the court usually leads in those actions—but our Duke’s
+county juries are beginning to understand their powers in all
+others.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What do you make of the list?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s what I call reasonable, ’Squire. There are two men on
+it who would not hang Cain, were he indicted for the murder of
+Abel.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Quakers, of course?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not they. The time was when we were reduced to the
+‘thee’s’ and the ‘thou’s’ for this sort of support; but philanthropy
+is abroad, sir, covering the land. Talk of the schoolmaster!—Why,
+’Squire, a new philanthropical idee will go two
+feet to the schoolmaster’s one. Pro-nigger, anti-gallows, eternal
+peace, woman’s rights, the people’s power, and anything of that
+sort, sweeps like a tornado through the land. Get a juror who
+has just come into the anti-gallows notion, and I would defy the
+State to hang a body-snatcher who lived by murdering his subjects.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And you count on two of these partisans for our case?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Lord no, sir. The District Attorney himself knows them
+both; and Davis’s counsel have been studying that list for the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>last week, as if it were Blackstone in the hands of a new <a id='corr218.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='beginner'>beginner.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_218.1'><ins class='correction' title='beginner'>beginner.</ins></a></span>
+I can tell you, ’Squire Dunscomb, that the jury-list is a most important
+part of a case out here in the country!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am much afraid it is, Timms; though I never examined
+one in my life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can believe you, sir, from what I have seen of your practice.
+But principles and facts won’t answer in an age of the world
+when men are ruled by talk and prejudice. There is not a case
+of any magnitude tried, now-a-days, without paying proper attention
+to the jury. We are pretty well off, on the whole; and I
+am tolerably sanguine of a disagreement, though I fear an acquittal
+is quite out of the question.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You rely on one or two particularly intelligent and disinterested
+men, ha! Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I rely on five or six particularly ignorant and heated partisans,
+on the contrary;—men who have been reading about the abolishing
+of capital punishments, and who in gin’ral, because they’ve
+got hold of some notions that have been worn out as far back as
+the times of the Cæsars, fancy themselves philosophers and the
+children of progress. The country is getting to be full of what I
+call donkeys and racers; the donkey is obstinate, and backs going
+up hill; while the racers will not only break their own necks,
+but those of their riders too, unless they hold up long before they
+reach their goal.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did not know, Timms, that you think so much on such
+subjects. To me, you have always appeared to be a purely working-man—no
+theorist.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is precisely because I am a man of action, and live in the
+world, and see things as they were meant to be seen, that I laugh
+at your theorists. Why, sir, this country, in my judgment, for
+the time being, could much better get along without preaching,
+than without hanging. I don’t say always; for there is no telling
+yet what is to be the upshot of preaching. It may turn out as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>many think; in which case human natur’ will undergo a change
+that will pretty much destroy our business. Such a state of things
+would be worse for the bar, ’Squire, than the Code, or the last
+fee-bill.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m not so sure of that, Timms; there are few things worse
+than this infernal Code.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, to my taste, the fee-bill is the most disagreeable of the
+two. A man can stand any sort of law, and any sort of practice;
+but he can’t stand any sort of pay. I hear the circuit is to be
+held by one of the new judges—a people’s man, altogether.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You mean by that, I suppose, Timms, one of those who did
+not hold office under the old system? It is said that the new
+broom sweeps clean—it is fortunate ours has not brushed away
+all the old incumbents.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, that is to come; and come it will, as sure as the sun
+rises. We must have rotation on the bench, as well as in all
+other matters. You see, ’Squire, rotation is a sort of <em>claim</em> with
+many men, who have no other. They fancy the earth to have
+been created on a sort of Jim Crow principle, because it turns
+round.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is it; and it explains the clamour that is made about
+it. But to return to this jury, Timms; on the whole, you like
+it, I should infer?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not too well, by any means. There are six or eight names
+on the list that I’m always glad to see; for they belong to men
+who are friendly to <a id='corr219.26'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='me——'>me——”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_219.26'><ins class='correction' title='me——'>me——”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Good God, man—it cannot be possible that you count on
+such assistants in a trial for a human life!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not count on it, ’Squire Dunscomb! I count on it from an
+action of trespass on the case, to this indictment—count on it,
+quite as much, and a good deal more rationally, than you count
+on your law and evidence. Didn’t I carry that heavy case <em>for</em>
+the railroad company on that principle altogether? The law was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>lead against us they say, and the facts were against us; but the
+verdict was in our favour. That’s what I call practising law!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; I remember to have heard of that case, and it was
+always a wonder with the bar how you got along with it. Had
+it been a verdict <em>against</em> a corporation, no one would have thought
+anything of it—but to carry a bad case <em>for</em> a company, now-a-days,
+is almost an unheard-of thing.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are quite right, sir. I can beat any railroad in the
+State, with a jury of a neighbourhood, let the question or facts
+be what they may; but, in this instance, I beat the neighbourhood,
+and all through the faith the jury had in <em>me</em>. It’s a blessed
+institution, this of the jury, ’Squire Dunscomb!—no doubt it
+makes us the great, glorious, and free people that we are!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If the bench continue to lose its influence as it has done, the
+next twenty years will see it a curse of the worst character. It
+is now little more than a popular cabal in all cases in the least
+calculated to awaken popular feeling or prejudice.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There’s the rub in this capital case of ours. Mary Monson
+has neglected popularity altogether; and she is likely to suffer
+for it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Popularity!” exclaimed Dunscomb, in a tone of horror—“and
+this in a matter of life and death! What are we coming
+to in the law, as well as in politics! No public man is to be
+found of sufficient moral courage, or intellectual force, to stem
+this torrent; which is sweeping away everything before it. But
+in what has our client failed, Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In almost everything connected with this one great point;
+and what vexes me is her wonderful power of pleasing, which is
+completely thrown away. ’Squire Dunscomb, I would carry this
+county for Free Sile or ag’in it, with that lady to back me, as a
+wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What, if she should refuse to resort to popular airs and
+graces?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>“I mean, of course, she aiding and abetting. I would give
+the world, now, could we get the judge into her company for
+half an hour. It would make a friend of him; and it is still
+something to have a friend in the judge in a criminal case.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You may well say ‘<em>still</em>,’ Timms; how much longer it will
+be so, is another matter. Under the old system it would be
+hopeless to expect so much complaisance in a judge; but I will
+not take it on myself to say what a people’s judge will not do.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If I thought the thing could be managed, by George I would
+attempt it! The grand jurors visit the gaols, and why not the
+judges? What do you think, sir, of an anonymous letter hinting
+to his honour that a visit to Mrs. Gott—who is an excellent
+creature in her way—might serve the ends of justice!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As I think of all underhanded movements and trickery. No,
+no, Timms; you had better let our client remain unpopular, than
+undertake anything of this nature.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps you are right, sir. Unpopular she is, and will be,
+as long as she pursues her present course; whereas she might
+carry all classes of men with her. For my part, ’Squire Dunscomb,
+I’ve found this young lady”—here Timms paused, hemmed,
+and concluded by looking a little foolish—a character of
+countenance by no means common with one of his shrewdness
+and sagacity.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So, so, Master Timms,” said the senior counsel, regarding
+the junior with a sort of sneer—“you are as great a fool as my
+nephew, Jack Wilmeter; and have fallen in love with a pretty
+face, in spite of the grand jury and the gallows!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms gave a gulp, seemed to catch his breath, and regained
+enough of his self-command to be able to answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m in hopes that Mr. Wilmeter will think better of this,
+sir,” he said, “and turn his views to a quarter where they will
+be particularly acceptable. It would hardly do for a young gentleman
+of his expectations to take a wife out of a gaol.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“Enough of this foolery, Timms, and come to the point. Your
+remarks about popularity may have some sense in them, if matters
+have been pushed too far in a contrary direction. Of what do you
+complain?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In the first place, she will not show herself at the windows;
+and that offends a great many persons, who think it proud and
+aristocratic in her not to act as other criminals act. Then, she
+has made a capital mistake with a leading reporter, who sent in
+his name, and desired an interview; which she declined granting.
+She will hear from that man, depend on it, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I shall look to him, then—for, though this class of men is
+fast putting the law under foot, it may be made to turn on them,
+by one who understands it, and has the courage to use it. I shall
+not allow the rights of Mary Monson to be invaded by such a
+fungus of letters.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Fungus of letters! Ahem—if it was anybody but yourself,
+’Squire, that I was talking to, I might remind you that these
+funguses flourish on the dunghill of the common mind.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No matter; the law <em>can</em> be made to touch them, when in
+good hands; and mine have now some experience. Has this
+reporter resented the refusal of the prisoner to see him?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He is squinting that way, and has got himself sent to Biberry
+by two or three journals, to report the progress of the trial. I
+know the man; he is vindictive, impudent, and always uses his
+craft to indulge his resentments.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, many of those gentry are up to that. Is it not surprising,
+Timms, that in a country for ever boasting of its freedom, men
+do not see how much abuse there is of a very important interest,
+in suffering these irresponsible tyrants to ride rough-shod over
+the community?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Lord, ’Squire, it is not with the reporters only, that abuses
+are to be found. I was present, the other day, at a conversation
+between a judge and a great town lawyer, when the last deplored
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>the state of the juries! ‘What would you have?’ says his
+Honour; ‘angels sent down from Heaven to fill the jury-boxes?’
+Waal”—Timms never could get over the defects of his early
+associations—“Waal, ’Squire,” he continued, with a shrewd
+leer of the eyes, “I thought a few saints might be squeezed in
+between the lowest angel in Heaven and the average of our
+Duke’s county pannels. This is a great fashion of talking that is
+growing up among us to meet an objection by crying out, ‘men
+are not angels;’ as if some men are not better than others.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The institutions clearly maintain that some men are better
+than others, Timms!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That’s news to me, I will own. I thought the institutions
+declared all men alike—that is, all white men; I know that the
+niggers are non-suited.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They are unsuited, at least, according to the spirit of the institutions.
+If all men are supposed to be alike, what use is there
+in the elections? Why not draw lots for office, as we draw lots
+for juries? Choice infers inequalities, or the practice is an absurdity.
+But here comes McBrain, with a face so full of meaning,
+he must have something to tell us.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Sure enough, the bridegroom-physician came into the room at
+that instant; and without circumlocution he entered at once on
+the topic that was then uppermost in his mind. It was the custom
+of the neighbourhood to profit by the visits of this able practitioner
+to his country place, by calling on him for advice in such
+difficult cases as existed anywhere in the vicinity of Timbully.
+Even his recent marriage did not entirely protect him from these
+appeals, which brought so little pecuniary advantage as to be
+gratuitous; and he had passed much of the last two days in
+making professional visits in a circle around his residence that
+included Biberry. Such were the means by which he had obtained
+the information that now escaped from him, as it might
+be, involuntarily.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>“I have never known so excited a state of the public mind,”
+he cried, “as now exists all around Biberry, on the subject of
+your client, Tom, and this approaching trial. Go where I may,
+see whom I will, let the disease be as serious as possible, all,
+patients, parents, friends and nurses, commence business with
+asking me what I think of Mary Monson, and of her guilt or
+innocence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That’s because you are married, Ned,”—Dunscomb coolly
+answered—“Now, no one thinks of putting such a question to
+<em>me</em>. I see lots of people, as well as yourself; but not a soul has
+asked me whether I thought Mary Monson guilty or innocent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Poh! You are her counsel, and no one could take the <a id='corr224.23'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='liberty'>liberty.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_224.23'><ins class='correction' title='liberty'>liberty.</ins></a></span>
+I dare say that even Mr. Timms, here, your associate, has never
+compared notes with you on that particular point.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms was clearly not quite himself; and he did not look as
+shrewd as he once would have done at such a remark. He kept
+in the back-ground, and was content to listen.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do suppose association with a brother in the law, and in a
+case of life and death, is something like matrimony, Dr. McBrain.
+A good deal must be taken for granted, and not a little on credit.
+As a man is bound to believe his wife the most excellent, virtuous,
+most amiable and best creature on earth, so is a counsel bound to
+consider his client innocent. The relation, in each case, is confidential,
+however; and I shall not pry into your secrets, any more
+than I shall betray one of my own.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I asked for none, and wish none; but one may express surprise
+at the intense degree of excitement that prevails all through
+Duke’s, and even in the adjacent counties.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The murder of a man and his wife in cold blood, accompanied
+by robbery and arson, are enough to arouse the community.
+In this particular case the feeling of interest is increased, I make
+no doubt, by the extraordinary character, as well as by the singular
+mystery, of the party accused. I have had many clients, Ned,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>but never one like this before; as you have had many wives, but
+no one so remarkable as the present Mrs. McBrain.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Your time will come yet, Master Dunscomb—recollect I
+have always prognosticated that.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You forget that I am approaching sixty. A man’s heart is
+as hard and dry as a bill in chancery at that age—but, I beg
+your pardon, Ned; <em>you</em> are an exception.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I certainly believe that a man can have affections, even at
+four-score—and what is more, I believe that when the reason and
+judgment come in aid of the passions——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb laughed outright; nay, he even gave a little shout,
+his bachelor habits having rendered him more exuberant in
+manner than might otherwise have been the case.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Passions!” he cried, rubbing his hands, and looking round
+for Timms, that he might have some one to share in what he
+regarded as a capital joke. “The passions of a fellow of three-score!
+Ned, you do not flatter yourself that you have been
+marrying the Widow Updyke in consequence of any <em>passion</em> you
+feel for her?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do, indeed,” returned the Doctor, with spirit; mustering
+resolution to carry the war into the enemy’s country—“Let me
+tell you, Tom Dunscomb, that a warm-hearted fellow can love a
+woman dearly, long after the age you have mentioned—that is,
+provided he has not let all feeling die within him, for want of
+watering a plant that is the most precious boon of a most gracious
+Providence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, if he begin at twenty, and keep even pace with his beloved
+down the descent of time.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That may all be true; but, if it has been his misfortune to
+lose one partner, a second——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And a third, Ned, a third—why not foot the bill at once,
+as they say in the market?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, a third, too, if circumstances make that demand on
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span><a id='corr226.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='him'>him.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_226.1'><ins class='correction' title='him'>him.</ins></a></span> Anything is better than leaving the affections to stagnate
+for want of cultivation.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Adam in Paradise, by Jove!—But, I’ll not reproach you
+again, since you have got so gentle and kind a creature, and one
+who is twenty years your junior——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Only eighteen, if you please, Mr. Dunscomb.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Now, I should be glad to know whether you have added those
+two years to the bride’s age, or subtracted them from that of
+the bridegroom! I suppose the last, however, as a matter of
+course.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not well see how you can suppose any such thing, knowing
+my age as well as you do. Mrs. McBrain is forty-two, an
+age when a woman can be as loveable as at nineteen—more so,
+if her admirer happens to be a man of sense.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And sixty-two. Well, Ned, you are incorrigible; and, for
+the sake of the excellent woman who has consented to have you,
+I only hope this will be the last exhibition of your weakness.
+So they talk a good deal of Mary Monson, up and down the
+country, do they?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Of little else, I can assure you. I am sorry to say, the tide
+seems to be setting strongly against her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is bad news; as few jurors, now-a-days, are superior to
+such an influence. What is said, in particular, Dr. McBrain?—In
+the way of facts, I mean?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“One report is that the accused is full of money; and that a
+good deal of that which she is scattering broad-cast has been
+seen by different persons, at different times, in the possession of
+the deceased Mrs. Goodwin.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Let them retail that lie, far and near, ’Squire, and we’ll turn
+it to good account,” said Timms, taking out his note-book, and
+writing down what he had just heard. “I have reason to think
+that every dollar Miss Monson has uttered since her confinement——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>“Imprisonment would be a better word, Mr. Timms,” interrupted
+the Doctor.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I see no great difference,” replied the literal attorney—“but
+imprisonment, if you prefer it. I have reason to think that
+every dollar Mary Monson has put in circulation since she entered
+the gaol at Biberry, has come from either young Mr. Wilmeter
+or myself, in exchange for hundred-dollar notes—and, in one instance,
+for a note of five hundred dollars. She is well off, I can
+tell you, gentlemen; and if she is to be executed, her executor
+will have something to do when all is over.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You do not intend to allow her to be hanged, Timms?”
+demanded McBrain, aghast.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not if I can help it, Doctor; and this lie about the money,
+when clearly disproved, will be of capital service to her. Let
+them circulate it as much as they please, the rebound will be
+in proportion to the blow. The more they circulate that foolish
+rumour, the better it will be for our client when we come to
+trial.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose you are right, Timms; though I could prefer
+plainer dealings. A cause in which you are employed, however,
+must have more or less of management.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><a id='corr227.22'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Which'>“Which</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_227.22'><ins class='correction' title='Which'>“Which</ins></a></span> is better, ’Squire, than your law and evidence. But
+what else has Dr. McBrain to tell us?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hear that Peter Goodwin’s nephew, who it seems had some
+expectations from the old people, is particularly savage, and leaves
+no stone unturned to get up a popular feeling against the accused.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He had best beware,” said Dunscomb, his usually colourless
+but handsome face flushing as he spoke. “I shall not trifle in a
+matter of this sort—ha! Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Lord bless you, ’Squire, Duke’s county folks wouldn’t understand
+a denial of the privilege to say what they please in a case
+of this sort. They fancy this is liberty; and ‘touch my honour,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>take your poker,’ is not more sensitive than the feelin’ of liberty
+in these parts. I’m afraid that not only this Joe Davis, but the
+reporters, will say just what they please; and Mary Monson’s
+rights will whistle for it. You will remember that our judge is
+not only a bran-new one, but he drew the two years’ term into
+the bargain. No, I think it will be wisest to let the law, and
+old principles, and the right, and <em>true</em> liberty, quite alone; and
+to bow the knee to things as they are. A good deal is said about
+our fathers, and their wisdom, and patriotism, and sacrifices;
+but nobody dreams of doing as they <em>did</em>, or of reasoning as they
+<em>reasoned</em>. Life is made up, in reality, of these little matters in
+a corner; while the great principles strut about in buckram, for
+men to admire them, and talk about them. I do take considerable
+delight, ’Squire Dunscomb, in hearing you enlarge on a principle,
+whether it be in law, morals, or politics; but I should no more
+think of prac<em>ty</em>sing on ’em, than I should think of refusing a
+thousand dollar fee.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is that your price?” demanded McBrain, with curiosity—“Do
+you work for as large a sum as that, in this case,
+Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m paid, Doctor; just as you was”—the attorney never
+stuck at grammar—“just as you was for that great operation on
+the Wall-Street Millenary’ian——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Millionaire, you mean, Timms,” said Dunscomb, coolly—“it
+means one worth a million.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I never attempt a foreign tongue but I stumble,” said the
+attorney, simply; for he knew that both his friends were familiar
+with his origin, education, and advancement in life, and that it
+was wisest to deny nothing to <em>them</em>; “but since I have been so
+much with Mary Monson and her woman, I do own a desire to
+speak the language they use.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Again Dunscomb regarded his associate intently; something
+comical gleaming in his eye.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>“Timms, you have fallen in love with our handsome client,”
+he quietly remarked.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, sir; not quite as bad as that, <em>yet</em>; though I will acknowledge
+that the lady is very interesting. Should she be
+acquitted, and could we only get some knowledge of her early
+history—why, that <em>might</em> put a new face on matters.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I must drive over to Biberry in the morning, and have another
+interview with the lady myself. And now, Ned, I will join
+your wife, and read an epithalamium prepared for this great occasion.
+You need not trouble yourself to follow, the song being
+no novelty; for I have read it twice before on your account.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A hearty laugh at his own wit concluded the discourse on the
+part of the great York counsellor; though Timms remained some
+time longer with the Doctor, questioning the latter touching
+opinions and facts gleaned by the physician in the course of his
+circuit.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“From his brimstone bed at break of day,</div>
+ <div class='line'>A walking the devil is gone,</div>
+ <div class='line'>To visit his little snug farm of the earth,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And see how his stock went on.”</div>
+ <div class='line in28'><cite>Coleridge.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>Dunscomb was as good as his word. Next morning he was on
+his way to Biberry. He was thoughtful; had laid a bundle of
+papers on the front seat of the carriage, and went his way musing
+and silent. Singularly enough, his only companion was Anna
+Updyke, who had asked a seat in the carriage timidly, but with
+an earnestness that prevailed. Had Jack Wilmeter been at
+Biberry, this request would not have been made; but she knew
+he was in town, and that she might make the little excursion
+without the imputation of indelicacy, so far as he was concerned.
+Her object will appear in the course of the narrative.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The “best tavern” in Biberry was kept by Daniel Horton.
+The wife of this good man had a native propensity to talk that
+had been essentially cultivated in the course of five-and-twenty
+years’ practice in the inn where she had commenced her career
+as maid; and was now finishing it as mistress. As is common
+with persons of her class, she knew hundreds of those who frequented
+her house; calling each readily by name, and treating
+every one with a certain degree of professional familiarity that is
+far from uncommon in country inns.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Dunscomb, I declare!” cried this woman, as she entered
+the room, and found the counsellor and his companion in possession
+of her best parlour. “This is a pleasure I did not expect
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>until the circuit. It’s quite twenty years, ’Squire, since I had
+the pleasure of first waiting on you in this house. And a pleasure
+it has always been; for I’ve not forgotten the ejectment
+suit that you carried for Horton when we was only new-beginners.
+I am glad to see you, sir; welcome to Biberry, as is this young
+lady, who is your daughter, I presume, Mr. Dunscomb?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You forget that I am a bachelor, Mrs. Horton—no marrying
+man, in any sense of the word.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I might have known that, had I reflected a moment; for
+they say Mary Monson employs none but bachelors and widowers
+in her case; and you are her counsel, I know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is a peculiarity of which I was not aware. Timms is a
+bachelor, certainly, as well as myself; but to whom else can you
+allude? Jack Wilmeter, my nephew, can hardly be said to be
+employed at all; nor, for that matter, Michael Millington; though
+neither is married.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir; we know both of the last well, they having lodged
+with us. If young Mr. Wilmeter is single, I fancy it is not his
+own fault”—here Mrs. Horton looked very wise, but continued
+talking—“Young gentlemen of a good appearance and handsome
+fortunes commonly have not much difficulty in getting
+wives—not as much as young ladies; for you men make the
+law, and you give your own sex the best chance, almost as a
+matter of course——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Pardon me, Mrs. Horton,” interrupted Dunscomb, a little
+formally, like one who felt great interest in the subject—“you
+were remarking that we have the best chance of getting married;
+and here have I been a bachelor all my life, trying in vain to
+enter into the happy state of matrimony—if, indeed, it deserve
+to be so termed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It could not be very difficult for <em>you</em> to find a companion,”
+said the landlady, shaking her head; “and for the reason I have
+just given.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>“Which was——?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That you men have made the laws and profit by them. <em>You</em>
+can <em>ask</em> whom you please; but a woman is obliged to wait to be
+asked.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You never were in a greater mistake in your life, I do assure
+you, my good Mrs. Horton. There is no such law on the subject.
+Any woman may put the question, as well as any man. This
+<em>was</em> the law, and I don’t think the Code has changed it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, I know that well enough, and get laughed at, and
+pointed at, for her pains. I know that a good deal is said about
+leap-year; but who ever heard of a woman’s putting the question?
+I fancy that even Mary Monson would think twice before
+she took so bold a step once.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson!” exclaimed Dunscomb, suddenly turning towards
+his hostess—“Has she a reputation for being attentive to
+gentlemen?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not that I know of; but——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then allow me to say, my good Mrs. Horton,” interrupted
+the celebrated counsellor, with a manner that was almost austere,
+“that you have been greatly to blame in hazarding the sort of
+remark you did. If you <em>know</em> nothing of the character you certainly
+insinuated, you should have said nothing. It is very
+extraordinary that women, alive as they must be to the consequences
+to one of their own sex, are ever more ready than men
+to throw out careless, and frequently malicious hints, that take
+away a reputation, and do a melancholy amount of harm in the
+world. Slander is the least respectable, the most unchristianlike,
+and the most unlady-like vice, of all the secondary sins of
+your sex. One would think the danger you are all exposed to in
+common, would teach you greater caution.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, that is true; but this Mary Monson is in such a
+pickle already, that it is not easy to make <em>her</em> case much worse,”
+answered <a id='corr232.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mrs'>Mrs.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_232.33'><ins class='correction' title='Mrs'>Mrs.</ins></a></span> Horton, a good deal frightened at the austerity of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>Dunscomb’s rebuke; for his reputation was too high to render
+his good or bad opinion a matter of indifference to her. “If
+you only knew the half that is said of her in Duke’s, you
+wouldn’t mind a careless word or so about her. Everybody
+thinks her guilty; and a crime, more or less, can be of no great
+matter to the likes of <em>her</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ah, Mrs. Horton, these careless words do a vast deal of
+harm. They insinuate away a reputation in a breath; and my
+experience has taught me that they who are the most apt to use
+them, are persons whose own conduct will least bear the light.
+Women with a whole log-heap of beams in their own eyes, are
+remarkable for discovering motes. Give me the female who
+floats along quietly in her sphere, unoffending and charitable,
+wishing for the best, and as difficult to be brought to <em>think</em> as to
+<em>do</em> evil. But, they talk a good deal against my client, do they?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“More than I have ever known folks talk against any indicted
+person, man or woman. The prize-fighters, who were in for
+murder, had a pretty hard time of it; but nothing to Mary Monson’s.
+In short, until ’Squire Timms came out in her favour,
+she had no chance at all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is not very encouraging, certainly—but what is said,
+Mrs. Horton, if you will suffer me to put the question?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, ’Squire Dunscomb,” answered the woman, pursing up
+a very pretty American mouth of her own, “a body is never sure
+that you won’t call what she says slander——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Poh—poh—you know me better than that. I never meddle
+with that vile class of suits. I am employed to defend Mary
+Monson, you know——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, and are well paid for it too, ’Squire Dunscomb, if all
+that a body hears is true,” interrupted Mrs. Horton, a little
+spitefully. “Five thousand dollars, they say, to a cent!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb, who was working literally without other reward
+than the consciousness of doing his duty, smiled, while he frowned
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>at this fresh instance of the absurdities into which rumour can
+lead its votaries. Bowing a little apology, he coolly lighted a
+segar, and proceeded.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Where is it supposed that Mary Monson can find such large
+sums to bestow, Mrs. Horton?” he quietly asked, when his segar
+was properly lighted. “It is not usual for young and friendless
+women to have pockets so well lined.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nor is it usual for young women to rob and murder old ones,
+’Squire.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking thought to be large enough to
+hold sums like that you have mentioned?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nobody knows. Gold takes but little room, as witness
+Californy. There was General Wilton—every one thought him
+rich as Cæsar——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you not mean Crœsus, Mrs. Horton?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, Cæsar or Crœsus; both were rich, I do suppose, and
+General Wilton was thought the equal of either; but, when he
+died, his estate wouldn’t pay his debts. On the other hand, old
+Davy Davidson was set down by nobody at more than twenty
+thousand, and he left ten times that much money. So I say nobody
+knows. Mrs. Goodwin was always a saving woman, though
+Peter would make the dollars fly, if he could get at them. There
+was certainly a weak spot in Peter, though known to but a very
+few.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb now listened attentively. Every fact of this nature
+was of importance just then; and nothing could be said of the
+murdered couple that would not induce all engaged in the cause
+to prick up their ears.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have always understood that Peter Goodwin was a very
+respectable sort of a man,” observed Dunscomb, with a profound
+knowledge of human nature, which was far more likely to induce
+the woman to be communicative, in the way of opposition, than
+by any other process—“as respectable a man as any about <a id='corr234.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='here.’'>here.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_234.33'><ins class='correction' title='here.’'>here.”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>“So he might be, but he had his weak points as well as other
+respectable men; though, as I have said already, his’n wasn’t
+generally known. Everybody is respectable, I suppose, until
+they’re found out. But Peter is dead and gone, and I have no
+wish to disturb his grave, which I believe to be a sinful act.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This sounded still more ominously, and it greatly increased
+Dunscomb’s desire to learn more. Still he saw that great caution
+must be used, Mrs. Horton choosing to affect much tenderness
+for her deceased neighbour’s character. The counsellor knew
+human nature well enough to be aware that indifference was
+sometimes as good a stimulant as opposition; and he now thought
+it expedient to try the virtue of that quality. Without making
+any immediate answer, therefore, he desired the attentive and
+anxious Anna Updyke to perform some little office for him; thus
+managing to get her out of the room, while the hostess stayed
+behind. Then his segar did not quite suit him, and he tried another,
+making divers little delays that set the landlady on the
+tenter-hooks of impatience.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, Peter is gone—dead and buried—and I hope the sod
+lies lightly on his remains!” she said, sighing ostentatiously.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Therein you are mistaken, Mrs. Horton,” the counsellor
+coolly remarked—“the remains of neither of those found in the
+ruins of the house are under ground yet; but are kept for the
+trial.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What a time we shall have of it!—so exciting and full of
+mystery!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And you might add ‘custom,’ Mrs. Horton. The reporters
+alone, who will certainly come from town like an inroad of Cossacks,
+will fill your house.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, and themselves too. To be honest with you, ’Squire
+Dunscomb, too many of those gentry wish to be kept for nothing
+to make them pleasant boarders. I dare say, however, we shall
+be full enough next week. I sometimes wish there was no
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>such thing as justice, after a hard-working Oyer and Terminer
+court.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You should be under no concern, my good Mrs. Horton, on
+that subject. There is really so little of the thing you have mentioned,
+that no reasonable woman need make herself unhappy
+about it. So Peter Goodwin was a faultless man, was he?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As far from it as possible, if the truth was said of him; and
+seeing the man is not absolutely under ground, I do not know
+why it may not be told. I can respect the grave, as well as another;
+but, as he is not buried, one may tell the truth. Peter
+Goodwin was, by no means, the man he seemed to be.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In what particular did he fail, my good Mrs. Horton?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>To be <em>good</em> in Dunscomb’s eyes, the landlady well knew, was
+a great honour; and she was flattered as much by the manner in
+which the words were uttered, as by their import. Woman-like,
+Mrs. Horton was overcome by this little bit of homage; and she
+felt disposed to give up a secret which, to do her justice, had
+been religiously kept now for some ten or twelve years between
+herself and her husband. As she and the counsel were alone,
+dropping her voice a little, more for the sake of appearances than
+for any sufficient reason, the landlady proceeded.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, you must know, ’Squire Dunscomb, that Peter Goodwin
+was a member of meetin’, and a professing Christian, which
+I suppose was all the better for him, seeing that he was to be
+murdered.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And do you consider his being a ‘professing Christian,’ as
+you call it, a circumstance to be concealed?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not at all, sir—but I consider it a good reason why the facts
+I am about to tell you, ought not to be generally known. Scoffers
+abound; and I take it that the feelings of a believer ought to be
+treated more tenderly than those of an unbeliever, for the church’s
+sake.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is a fashion of the times too—one of the ways of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>hour, whether it is to last or not. But, proceed if you please,
+my good Mrs. Horton; I am quite curious to know by what
+particular sin Satan managed to overcome this ‘professing Christian?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He drank, ’Squire Dunscomb—no, he <em>guzzled</em>, for that is
+the best word. You must know that Dolly was avarice itself—that’s
+the reason she took this Mary Monson in to board, though
+her house was no ways suited for boarders, standing out of the
+way, with only one small spare bed-room, and that under the
+roof. Had she let this stranger woman come to one of the regular
+houses, as she might have done, and been far better accommodated
+than it was possible for her to be in a garret, it is not
+likely she would have been murdered. She lost her life, as I tell
+Horton, for meddling with other people’s business.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If such were the regular and inevitable punishment of that
+particular offence, my good landlady, there would be a great
+dearth of ladies,” said Tom Dunscomb, a little drily—“but, you
+were remarking that Peter Goodwin, the member of meeting, and
+Mary Monson’s supposed victim, had a weakness in favour of
+strong liquor?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Juleps were his choice—I’ve heard of a part of the country,
+somewhere about Virginny, I believe it is, where tee-totallers
+make an exception in favour of juleps—it may do <em>there</em>, Squire
+Dunscomb, but it won’t do <em>here</em>. No liquor undoes a body, in
+this part of the country, sooner than mint juleps. I will find
+you ten constitutions that can hold out ag’in brandy, or plain
+grog, or even grog, beer and cider, all three together, where you
+can find me one that will hold out ag’in juleps. I always set
+down a reg’lar julep fancier as a case—that is, in this part of
+the country.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true, my good landlady, and very sensible and just. I
+consider you a sensible and just woman, whose mind has been
+enlarged by an extensive acquaintance with human nature——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>“A body does pick up a good deal in and around a bar, ’Squire
+Dunscomb!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Pick up, indeed—I’ve known ’em picked up by the dozen
+myself. And Peter <em>would</em> take the juleps?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Awfully fond of them! He no more dared to take one at
+home, however, than he dared to go and ask Minister Watch to
+make him one. No, he know’d better where the right sort of
+article was to be had, and always came down to our house when
+he was dry. Horton mixes stiff, or we should have been a good
+deal better off in the world than we are—not that we’re mis’rable,
+as it is. But Horton takes it strong himself, and he mixes
+strong for others. Peter soon found this out, and he fancied his
+juleps more, as he has often told me himself, than the juleps of
+the great Bowery-man, who has a name for ’em, far and near.
+Horton <em>can</em> mix a julep, if he can do nothing else.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And Peter Goodwin was in the habit of frequenting your
+house privately, to indulge this propensity.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m almost ashamed to own that he did—perhaps it was
+sinful in us to let him; but a body must carry out the idee
+of trade—our trade is tavern-keeping, and it’s our business to
+mix liquors, though Minister Watch says, almost every Sabbath,
+that professors should do nothing out of sight that they wouldn’t
+do before the whole congregation. I don’t hold to that, however;
+for it would soon break up tavern-keeping altogether. Yes, Peter
+did drink awfully, in a corner.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To intoxication, do you mean, Mrs. Horton?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To delirrum tremus, sir—yes, full up to that. His way was
+to come down to the village on the pretence of business, and to
+come right to our house, where I’ve known him to take three
+juleps in the first half-hour. Sometimes he’d pretend to go to
+town to see his sister, when he would stay two or three days upstairs
+in a room that Horton keeps for what he calls his <em>cases</em>—he
+has given the room the name of his <em>ward</em>—hospital-ward he means.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>“Is the worthy Mr. Horton a member of the meeting also,
+my good landlady?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. Horton had the grace to colour; but she answered without
+stammering, habit fortifying us in moral discrepancies much
+more serious than even this.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He was, and I don’t know but I may say he is yet; though
+he hasn’t attended, now, for more than two years. The question
+got to be between meetin’ and the bar; and the bar carried the
+day, so far as Horton is concerned. I’ve held out better, I hope,
+and expect to gain a victory. It’s quite enough to have one
+backslider in a family, I tell my husband, ’Squire.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A sufficient supply, ma’am—quite a sufficiency. So Peter
+Goodwin lay in your house drunk, days at a time?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m sorry to say he did. He was here a week once, with
+delirrum tremus on him; but Horton carried him through by
+the use of juleps; for <em>that</em>’s the time to take ’em, everybody
+says; and we got him home without old Dolly’s knowing that he
+hadn’t been with his sister the whole time. That turn satisfied
+Peter for three good months.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did Peter pay as he went, or did you keep a score?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ready money, sir. Catch us keeping an account with a man
+when his wife ruled the roast! No, Peter paid like a king, for
+every mouthful he swallowed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am far from certain that the comparison is a good one,
+kings being in no degree remarkable for paying their debts. But,
+is it not possible that Peter may have set his own house on fire,
+and thus have caused all this calamity, for which my client is
+held responsible?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ve thought that over a good deal since the murder, ’Squire,
+but don’t well see how it can be made out. Setting the building
+on fire is simple enough; but who killed the old couple, and who
+robbed the house, unless this Mary Monson did both?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The case has its difficulties, no doubt; but I have known the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>day to dawn after a darker night than this. I believe that Mrs.
+Goodwin and her husband were very nearly of the same height?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Exactly; I’ve seen them measure, back to back. He was a
+very short man, and she a very tall woman!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you know anything of a German female who is said to
+have lived with the unfortunate couple?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There has been some talk of such a person since the fire;
+but Dolly Goodwin kept no help. She was too stingy for that;
+then she had no need of it, being very strong and stirring for her
+time of life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Might not a boarder, like Miss Monson, have induced her to
+take this foreigner into her family for a few weeks? The nearest
+neighbours, those who would be most likely to know all about it,
+say that no wages were given; the woman working for her food
+and lodging.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“’Squire Dunscomb, you’ll never make it out that any German
+killed Peter and his wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps not; though even that is possible. Such, however,
+is not the object of my present enquiries—but, here comes my
+associate counsel, and I will take another occasion to continue
+this conversation, my good Mrs. Horton.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms entered with a hurried air. For the first time in his
+life he appeared to his associate and old master to be agitated.
+Cold, calculating, and cunning, this man seldom permitted himself
+to be so much thrown off his guard as to betray emotion;
+but now he actually did. There was a tremor in his form that
+extended to his voice; and he seemed afraid to trust the latter
+even in the customary salutations. Nodding his head, he <a id='corr240.28'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='drew'>drew a</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_240.28'><ins class='correction' title='drew'>drew a</ins></a></span>
+chair and took his seat.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have been to the gaol?” asked Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A nod was the answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You were admitted, and had an interview with our client?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Nod the third was the only reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>“Did you put the questions to her, as I desired?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did, sir; but I would sooner cross-examine all Duke’s, than
+undertake to get anything she does not wish to tell, out of that
+one young lady!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I fancy most young ladies have a faculty for keeping such
+matters to themselves as they do not wish to reveal. Am I to
+understand that you got no answers?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I really do not know, ’Squire. She was polite, and obliging,
+and smiling—but, somehow or other, I do not recollect her replies.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You must be falling in love, Timms, to return with such an
+account,” retorted Dunscomb, a cold but very sarcastic smile
+passing over his face. “Have a care, sir; ’tis a passion that
+makes a fool of a man sooner than any other. I do not think
+there is much danger of the lady’s returning your flame; unless,
+indeed, you can manage to make her acquittal a condition of the
+match.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am afraid—dreadfully afraid, her acquittal will be a very
+desperate affair,” answered Timms, passing his hands down his
+face, as if to wipe away his weakness. “The deeper I get into
+the matter, the worse it appears!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you given our client any intimation to this effect?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hadn’t the heart to do it. She is just as composed, and
+calm, and tranquil, and judicious—yes, and ingenious, as if <em>she</em>
+were only the counsel in this affair of life and death! I couldn’t
+distrust so much tranquillity. I wish I knew her history!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“My interrogatories pointed out the absolute necessity of her
+furnishing us with the means of enlightening the court and jury
+on that most material point, should the worst come to the worst.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know they did, sir; but they no more got at the truth than
+my own pressing questions. I should like to see that lady on the
+stand, above all things! I think she would bother saucy Williams,
+and fairly put him out of countenance. By the way, sir, I hear
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>he is employed against us by the nephew, who is quite furious
+about the loss of the money, which he pretends was a much
+larger sum than the neighbourhood has commonly supposed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have always thought the relations would employ some one
+to assist the public prosecutor in a case of this magnitude. The
+theory of our government is that the public virtue will see the
+laws executed; but, in my experience, Timms, this public virtue
+is a very acquiescent and indifferent quality, seldom troubling
+itself even to abate a nuisance, until its own nose is offended, or
+its own pocket damaged.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Roguery is always more active than honesty—I found that
+out long since, ’Squire. But, it is nat’ral for a public prosecutor
+not to press one on trial for life, and the accused a woman, closer
+than circumstances seem to demand. It is true, that popular
+feeling is strong ag’in Mary Monson; but it was well in the nephew
+to fee such a bull-dog as Williams, if he wishes to make a
+clean sweep of it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does our client know this?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly; she seems to know all about her case, and has a
+strange pleasure in entering into the mode and manner of her
+defence. It would do your heart good, sir, to see the manner in
+which she listens, and advises, and consults. She’s wonderful
+handsome at such times!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are in love, Timms; and I shall have to engage some
+other assistant. First Jack, and then you! Umph! This is a
+strange world, of a verity.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I don’t think it’s quite as bad with me as that,” said Timms,
+this time rubbing his shaggy eye-brows as if to ascertain whether
+or not he were dreaming, “though I must own I do not feel precisely
+as I did a month since. I wish you would see our client
+yourself, sir, and make her understand how important it is
+to her interest that we should know something of her past history.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>“Do you think her name is rightfully set forth in the indictment?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By no means—but, as she has called herself Mary Monson,
+she cannot avail herself of her own acts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly not—I asked merely as a matter of information.
+She must be made to feel the necessity of fortifying us on that
+particular point, else it will go far towards convicting her. Jurors
+do not like aliases.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She knows this already; for I have laid the matter before
+her, again and again. Nothing seems to move her, however; and
+as to apprehension, she appears to be above all fear.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is most extraordinary!—Have you interrogated the
+maid?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How can I? She speaks no English; and I can’t utter a
+syllable in any foreign tongue.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ha! Does she pretend to that much ignorance? Marie
+Moulin speaks very intelligible English, as I know from having
+conversed with her often. She is a clever, prudent Swiss, from
+one of the French cantons, and is known for her fidelity and
+trustworthiness. With me she will hardly venture to practise
+this deception. If she has feigned ignorance of English, it was
+in order to keep her secrets.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms admitted the probability of its being so; then he entered
+into a longer and more minute detail of the state of the
+case. In the first place, he admitted that, in spite of all his own
+efforts to the contrary, the popular feeling was setting strong
+against their client. “Frank Williams,” as he called the saucy
+person who bore that name, had entered into the struggle might
+and main, and was making his customary impressions.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“His fees must be liberal,” continued Timms, “and I should
+think are in some way dependent on the result; for I never saw
+the fellow more engaged in my life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This precious Code does allow such a bargain to be made
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>between the counsel and his client, or any other bargain that is
+not downright conspiracy,” returned Dunscomb; “but I do not
+see what is to be shared, even should Mary Monson be hanged.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not speak in that manner of so agreeable a person,” cried
+Timms, actually manifesting emotion—“it is unpleasant to think
+of. It is true, a conviction will not bring money to the prosecution,
+unless it should bring to light some of Mrs. Goodwin’s
+hoards.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb shrugged his shoulders, and his associate proceeded
+with his narrative. Two of the reporters were offended, and their
+allusions to the cause, which were almost daily in their respective
+journals, were ill-natured, and calculated to do great harm, though
+so far covered as to wear an air of seeming candour. The natural
+effect of this “constant dropping,” in a community accustomed
+to refer everything to the common mind, had been “to wear away
+the stone.” Many of those who, at first, had been disposed to
+sustain the accused, unwilling to believe that one so young, so
+educated, so modest in deportment, so engaging in manners, and
+of the gentler sex, could possibly be guilty of the crimes imputed,
+were now changing their opinions, under the control of
+this potent and sinister mode of working on the public sentiment.
+The agents employed by Timms to counteract this malign influence
+had failed of their object; they working merely for money,
+while those of the other side were resenting what they regarded
+as an affront.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The family of the Burtons, the nearest neighbours of the
+Goodwins, no longer received Timms with the frank cordiality that
+they had manifested in the earlier period of his intercourse with
+them. Then, they had been communicative, eager to tell all that
+they knew, and, as the lawyer fancied, even a little more; while
+they were now reserved, uneasy, and indisposed to let one-half
+of the real facts within their knowledge be known. Timms
+thought they had been worked upon, and that they might expect
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>some hostile and important testimony from that quarter. The
+consultation ended by an exclamation from Dunscomb on the
+subject of the abuses that were so fast creeping into the administration
+of justice, rendering the boasted freemen of America,
+though in a different mode, little more likely to receive its benefit
+from an unpolluted stream, than they who live under the worn
+out and confessedly corrupt systems of the old world. Such is
+the tendency of things, and such one of the ways of the <a id='corr245.8'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='hour'>hour.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_245.8'><ins class='correction' title='hour'>hour.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Are those <em>her</em> ribs through which the sun</div>
+ <div class='line'>Did peer, as through a grate;</div>
+ <div class='line'>And is that woman all her crew?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is that a Death, and are there two?</div>
+ <div class='line'>Is Death that woman’s mate.”</div>
+ <div class='line in26'><cite>The Phantom Ship.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>After a short preparatory interview with Anna Updyke, Dunscomb
+repaired to the gaol, whither he had already despatched a
+note to announce his intended visit. Good Mrs. Gott received
+him with earnest attention; for, as the day of trial approached,
+this kind-hearted woman manifested a warmer and warmer interest
+in the fate of her prisoner.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are welcome, Mr. Dunscomb,” said this well-disposed
+and gentle turnkey, as she led the way to the door that opened
+on the gallery of the gaol; “and welcome, again and again. I
+do wish this business may fall into good hands; and I’m afraid
+Timms is not getting on with it as well as he might.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“My associate has the reputation of being a skilful attorney
+and a good manager, Mrs. Gott.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So he has, Mr. Dunscomb; but somehow—I scarce know
+how myself—but somehow, he doesn’t get along with <em>this</em> cause,
+as well as I have known him to get along with others. The
+excitement in the county is terrible; and Gott has had seven
+anonymous letters to let him know that if Mary Monson escape,
+his hopes from the public are gone for ever. I tell him not to
+mind such contemptible things; but he is frightened half out of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>his wits. It takes good courage, ’Squire, to treat an anonymous
+letter with the contempt it merits.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It sometimes does, indeed. Then you think we shall have
+up-hill work with the defence?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Dreadful!—I’ve never known a cause so generally tried out
+of doors as this. What makes the matter more provoking, Mary
+Monson might have had it all her own way, if she had been so
+minded; for, at first, she was popularity itself with all the neighbours.
+Folks nat’rally like beauty, and elegance, and youth;
+and Mary has enough of each to make friends anywhere.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What! with the ladies?” said Dunscomb, smiling. “Surely
+not with your sex, Mrs. Gott?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, with the women, as well as with the men, if she would
+only use her means; but she stands in her own light. Crowds
+have been round the outer windows to hear her play on the harp—they
+tell me she uses the real Jew’s Harp, ’Squire Dunscomb;
+such as Royal David used to play on; and that she has great
+skill. There is a German in the village who knows all about
+music, and he says Mary Monson has been excellently taught—by
+the very best masters.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is extraordinary; yet it would seem to be so. Will you
+have the goodness to open the door, Mrs. Gott?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“With all my heart,” answered this, in one sense, very singular
+turnkey, though in another a very every-day character, jingling
+her keys, but not taking a forward step to comply; “Mary Monson
+expects you. I suppose, sir, you know that saucy Frank
+Williams is retained by the friends of the Goodwins?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Timms has told me as much as that. I cannot say,
+however, that I have any particular apprehension of encountering
+Mr. Williams.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, sir; not <em>you</em>, I’ll engage, not in open court; but out
+of doors he’s very formidable.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I trust this cause, one involving the life and reputation of a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>very interesting female, will not be tried out of doors, Mrs. Gott.
+The issue is too serious for such a tribunal.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So a body would think; but a great deal of law-business is
+settled, they tell me, under the sheds, and in the streets, and in
+the taverns; most especially in the juror’s bed-rooms, and settled
+in a way it ought not to be.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am afraid you are nearer right than every just-minded person
+could wish. But we will talk of this another time—the
+door if you please, now.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, in one minute. It would be <em>so</em> easy for Mary Monson
+to be just as popular with everybody in Biberry as she is with
+me. Let her come to one of the side-windows of the gallery this
+evening, and show herself to the folks, and play on that harp of
+<a id='corr248.14'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='her’s'>hers</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_248.14'><ins class='correction' title='her’s'>hers</ins></a></span>, and Royal David himself could not have been better liked
+by the Jews of old, than she would soon be by our people hereabouts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is probably now too late. The court sits in a few days;
+and the mischief, if any there be, must be done.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No such thing, begging your pardon, ’Squire. There’s that
+in Mary Monson that can carry anything she pleases. Folks
+now think her proud and consequential, because she will not just
+stand at one of the grates and let them look at her a little.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am afraid, Mrs. Gott, your husband has taught you a
+greater respect for those you call ‘the people,’ than they deserve
+to receive at your hands.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Gott is dreadfully afraid of them——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And he is set apart by the laws to see them executed on
+these very people,” interrupted Dunscomb, with a sneer; “to
+levy on their possessions, keep the peace, enforce the laws; in
+short, to make them <em>feel</em>, whenever it is necessary, that they are
+<em>governed</em>!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Gott says ‘that the people <em>will</em> rule.’ That’s <em>his</em> great
+saying.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>“Will <em>seem</em> to rule, is true enough; but the most that the
+mass of any nation <em>can</em> do, is occasionally to check the proceedings
+of their governors. The every-day work is most effectually
+done by a favoured few here, just as it is done by a favoured few
+everywhere else. The door, now, if you please, my good <a id='corr249.5'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mrs'>Mrs.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_249.5'><ins class='correction' title='Mrs'>Mrs.</ins></a></span>
+Gott.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, in one minute. Dear me! how odd that you should
+think so. Why, I thought that you were a democrat, Mr. Dunscomb?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So I am, as between forms of government; but I never was
+fool enough to think that the people can really rule, further than
+by occasional checks and rebukes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What would Gott say to this! Why, he is so much afraid
+of the people, that he tells me he never does anything, without
+fancying some one is looking over his shoulders.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, that is a very good rule for a man who wishes to be
+chosen <em>sheriff</em>. To be a <em>bishop</em>, it would be better to remember
+the omniscient eye.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do declare—oh! Gott never thinks of <em>that</em>, more’s the
+pity,” applying the key to the lock. “When you wish to come
+out, ’Squire, just call at this grate”—then dropping her voice to
+a whisper—“try and persuade Mary Monson to show herself at
+one of the side grates.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>But Dunscomb entered the gallery with no such intention. As
+he was expected, his reception was natural and easy. The prisoner
+was carefully though simply dressed, and she appeared all
+the better, most probably, for some of the practised arts of her
+woman. Marie Moulin, herself, kept modestly within the cell,
+where, indeed, she passed most of her time, leaving the now
+quite handsomely furnished gallery to the uses of her mistress.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>After the first few words of salutation, Dunscomb took the
+chair he was invited to occupy, a good deal at a loss how to
+address a woman of his companion’s mien and general air as a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>culprit about to be tried for her life. He first attempted words
+of course.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I see you have had a proper regard to your comforts in this
+miserable place,” he remarked.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not call it by so forbidding a name, Mr. Dunscomb,” was
+the answer, given with a sorrowful, but exceedingly winning
+smile—“it is <em>my</em> place of <em>refuge</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you still persist in refusing to tell me against <em>what</em>, Miss
+Monson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I persist in nothing that ought not to be done, I hope. At
+another time I may be more communicative. But, if what Mrs.
+Gott tells me is correct, I need these walls to prevent my being
+torn to pieces by those she calls the people, outside.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb looked with amazement at the being who quietly
+made this remark on her own situation. Of beautiful form, with
+all the signs of a gentle origin and refined education, young,
+handsome, delicate, nay, dainty of speech and acts, there she sat,
+indicted for arson and murder, and about to be tried for her life,
+with the composure of a lady in her drawing-room! The illuminated
+expression that, at times, rendered her countenance so very
+remarkable, had now given place to one of sobered sadness;
+though apprehension did not appear to be in the least predominant.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The sheriff has instilled into his wife a very healthful respect
+for those she calls the people—healthful, for one who looks to
+their voices for his support. This is very American.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose it to be much the same everywhere. I have been
+a good deal abroad, Mr. Dunscomb, and cannot say I perceive
+any great difference in men.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nor is there any, though circumstances cause different modes
+of betraying their weaknesses, as well as what there is in them
+that is good. But the people in this country, Miss Monson,
+possess a power that, in your case, is not to be despised. As
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>Mrs. Gott would intimate, it may be prudent for you to remember
+<em>that</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Surely <em>you</em> would not have me make an exhibition of myself,
+Mr. Dunscomb, at the window of a gaol!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As far from that as possible. I would have you do nothing
+that is unbecoming one of your habits and opinions—nothing,
+in short, that would be improper, as a means of defence, by one
+accused and tried by the <a id='corr251.8'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='State'>State.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_251.8'><ins class='correction' title='State'>State.</ins></a></span> Nevertheless, it is always wiser
+to make friends than to make enemies.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson lowered her eyes to the carpet, and Dunscomb
+perceived that her thoughts wandered. They were not on her
+critical situation. It was indispensably necessary, however, that
+he should be explicit, and he did not shrink from his duty.
+Gently, but distinctly, and with a clearness that a far less gifted
+mind than that of the accused could comprehend, he now opened
+the subject of the approaching trial. A few words were first
+ventured on its grave character, and on the vast importance it
+was in all respects to his client; to which the latter listened attentively,
+but without the slightest visible alarm. Next, he
+alluded to the stories that were in circulation, the impression
+they were producing, and the danger there was that her rights
+might be affected by these sinister opinions.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But I am to be tried by a judge and a jury, they tell me,”
+said Mary Monson, when Dunscomb ceased speaking—“they
+will come from a distance, and will not be prejudiced against me
+by all this idle gossip.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Judges and jurors are only men, and nothing goes farther
+with less effort than your ‘idle gossip.’ Nothing is repeated accurately,
+or it is very rare to find it so; and those who only half
+comprehend a subject are certain to relate with exaggerations and
+false colourings.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How, then, can the electors discover the real characters of
+those for whom they are required to vote?” demanded Mary
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>Monson, smiling; “or get just ideas of the measures they are
+to support or to oppose?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Half the time they do neither. It exceeds all our present
+means, at least, to diffuse sufficient information for <em>that</em>. The
+consequence is, that appearances and assertions are made to take
+the place of facts. The mental food of the bulk of this nation
+is an opinion simulated by the artful to answer their own purposes.
+But the power of the masses is getting to be very formidable—more
+formidable in a way never contemplated by those
+who formed the institutions, than in any way that was foreseen.
+Among other things, they begin to hold the administration of
+justice in the hollow of their hands.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am not to be tried by the masses, I trust. If so, my fate
+would be very hard, I fear, judging from what I hear in my little
+excursions in the neighbourhood.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Excursions, Miss Monson!” repeated the astonished Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Excursions, sir; I make one for the benefit of air and exercise,
+every favourable night, at this fine season of the year.
+Surely you would not have me cooped up here in a gaol, without
+the relief of a little fresh air?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“With the knowledge and concurrence of the sheriff, or that
+of his wife?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps not strictly with those of either; though I suspect
+good Mrs. Gott has an inkling of my movements. It would be
+too hard to deny myself air and exercise, both of which are very
+necessary to my health, because I am charged with these horrid
+crimes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb passed a hand over his brow, as if he desired to
+clear his mental vision by friction of the physical, and, for a moment,
+sat absolutely lost in wonder. He scarce knew whether he
+was or was not dreaming.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And you have actually been outside of these walls, Miss
+Monson!” he exclaimed, at length.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>“Twenty times, at least. Why should I stay within them,
+when the means of quitting them are always in my power?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As Mary Monson said this, she showed her counsel a set of
+keys that corresponded closely with those which good Mrs. Gott
+was in the habit of using whenever she came to open the door
+of that particular gallery. A quiet smile betrayed how little
+the prisoner fancied there was anything remarkable in all this.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are you aware, Miss Monson, it is felony to assist a prisoner
+to escape?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So they tell me, Mr. Dunscomb; but as I have not escaped,
+or made any attempt to escape, and have returned regularly and
+in good season to my gaol, no one can be harmed for what I have
+done. Such, at least, is the opinion of Mr. Timms.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb did not like the expression of face that accompanied
+this speech. It might be too much to say it was absolutely cunning;
+but there was so much of the manœuvring of one accustomed
+to manage in it, that it awakened the unpleasant distrust
+that existed in the earlier days of his intercourse with this singular
+young woman, and which had now been dormant for several weeks.
+There was, however, so much of the cold polish of the upper
+classes in his client’s manner, that the offending expression was
+thrown off from the surface of her looks, as light is reflected
+from the ground and silvered mirror. At the very instant which
+succeeded this seeming gleam of cunning, all was calm, quiet,
+refined, gentle, and without apparent emotion in the countenance
+of the accused.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Timms!” repeated Dunscomb, slowly. “So <em>he</em> has known
+of this, and I dare say has had an agency in bringing it about?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As you say it is felony to aid a prisoner to escape, I can say
+neither yes nor no to this, Mr. Dunscomb, lest I betray an accomplice.
+I should rather think, however, that Mr. Timms is
+not a person to be easily caught in the meshes of the law.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Again the counsellor disliked the expression; though Mary
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>Monson looked unusually pretty at that particular <a id='corr254.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='moment'>moment.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_254.1'><ins class='correction' title='moment'>moment.</ins></a></span> He
+did not pause to analyze his feelings, notwithstanding, but rather
+sought to relieve his own curiosity, which had been a good deal
+aroused by the information just received.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As you have not hesitated to tell me of what you call your
+‘excursions,’ Miss Monson,” he continued, “perhaps you will so
+far extend your confidence as to let me know where you go?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can have no objection to that. Mr. Timms tells me the
+law cannot compel a counsel to betray his client’s secrets; and
+of course I am safe with you. Stop—I have a duty to perform
+that has been too long delayed. Gentlemen of your profession
+are entitled to their fees; and, as yet, I have been very remiss in
+this respect. Will you do me the favour, Mr. Dunscomb, to accept
+that, which you will see has been some time in readiness to
+be offered.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb was too much of a professional man to feel any
+embarrassment at this act of justice; but he took the letter,
+broke the seal, even before his client’s eyes, and held up for
+examination a note for a thousand dollars. Prepared as he was
+by Timms’s account for a liberal reward, this large sum took him
+a good deal by surprise.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is an unusual fee, Miss Monson!” he exclaimed; “one
+much more considerable than I should expect from you, were I
+working for remuneration, as in your case I certainly am not.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Gentlemen of the law look for their reward, I believe, as
+much as others. We do not live in the times of chivalry, when
+gallant men assisted distressed damsels as a matter of honour;
+but in what has well been termed a ‘bank-note world.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have no wish to set myself up above the fair practices of
+my profession, and am as ready to accept a fee as any man in
+Nassau-Street. Nevertheless, I took your case in hand with a
+very different motive. It would pain me to be obliged to work
+for a fee, on the present unhappy <a id='corr254.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='occasion'>occasion.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_254.33'><ins class='correction' title='occasion'>occasion.</ins></a></span>”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>Mary Monson looked grateful, and for a minute she seemed to
+be reflecting on some scheme by which she could devise a substitute
+for the old-fashioned mode of proceeding in a case of this
+sort.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have a niece, Mr. Dunscomb,” she at length exclaimed—“as
+Marie Moulin informs me? A charming girl, and who is
+about to be married?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The lawyer assented by an inclination of the head, fastening
+his penetrating black eyes on the full, expressive, greyish-blue
+ones of his companion.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You intend to return to town this evening?” said Mary
+Monson, in continuation.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Such is my intention. I came here to-day to confer with
+you and Mr. Timms, on the subject of the trial, to see how
+matters stand on the spot, by personal observation, and to introduce
+to you one who feels the deepest interest in your welfare
+and desires most earnestly to seek your acquaintance.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The prisoner was now silent, interrogating with her singularly
+expressive eyes.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is Anna Updyke, the step-daughter of my nearest friend,
+Dr. McBrain; and a very sincere, warm-hearted, and excellent
+girl.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have heard of her, too,” returned Mary Monson, with a
+smile so strange, that her counsel wished she had not given this
+demonstration of a feeling that seemed out of place, under all
+the circumstances. “They tell me she is a most charming girl,
+and that she is a very great favourite with your nephew, the
+young gentleman whom I have styled my legal vidette.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Vidette! That is a singular term to be used by <em>you</em>!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! you will remember that I have been much in countries
+where such persons abound. I must have caught the word from
+some of the young soldiers of <a id='corr255.32'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Europe'>Europe.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_255.32'><ins class='correction' title='Europe'>Europe.</ins></a></span> But, Mr. John Wilmeter
+is an admirer of the young lady you have named?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>“I hope he is. I know of no one with whom I think he
+would be more likely to be happy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb spoke earnestly, and at such times his manner was
+singularly sincere and impressive. It was this appearance of
+feeling and nature that gave him the power he possessed over
+juries; and it may be said to have made no small part of his
+fortune. Mary Monson seemed to be surprised; and she fastened
+her remarkable eyes on the uncle, in a way that might have
+admitted of different interpretations. Her lips moved as if she
+spoke to herself; and the smile that succeeded was both mild
+and sad.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To be sure,” added the prisoner, slowly, “my information
+is not on the very best authority, coming, as it does, from a servant—but
+Marie Moulin is both discreet and observant.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She is tolerably well qualified to speak of Anna Updyke,
+having seen her almost daily for the last two years. But, we are
+all surprised that <em>you</em> should know anything of this young woman.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know her precisely as she is known to your niece and Miss
+Updyke—in other words, as a maid who is much esteemed by
+those she serves—but,” apparently wishing to change the discourse—“we
+are forgetting the purpose of your visit, all this
+time, Mr. Dunscomb. Do me the favour to write your address
+in town, and that of Dr. McBrain on this card, and we will proceed
+to business.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb did as desired, when he opened on the details that
+were the object of his little journey. As had been the case in
+all his previous interviews with her, Mary Monson surprised him
+with the coolness with which she spoke of an issue that involved
+her own fate, for life or for death. While she carefully abstained
+from making any allusion to circumstances that might betray
+her previous history, she shrunk from no inquiry that bore on
+the acts of which she had been accused. Every question put by
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>Dunscomb that related to the murders and the arson, was answered
+frankly and freely, there being no wish apparent to conceal
+the minutest circumstance. She made several exceedingly
+shrewd and useful suggestions on the subject of the approaching
+trial, pointing out defects in the testimony against her, and reasoning
+with singular acuteness on particular facts that were
+known to be much relied on by the prosecution. We shall not
+reveal these details any further in this stage of our narrative,
+for they will necessarily appear at length in our subsequent
+pages; but shall confine ourselves to a few of those remarks that
+may be better given at present.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not know, Mr. Dunscomb,” Mary Monson suddenly
+said, while the subject of her trial was yet under discussion,
+“that I have ever mentioned to you the fact that Mr. and Mrs.
+Goodwin were not happy together. One would think, from what
+was said at the time of the inquest, that they were a very affectionate
+and contented couple; but my own observation, during
+the short time I was under their roof, taught me better. The
+husband drank, and the wife was avaricious and very quarrelsome.
+I am afraid, sir, there are few really happy couples to be found
+on earth!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If you knew McBrain better, you would not say that, my
+dear Miss Monson,” answered the counsellor with a sort of glee—“there’s
+a husband for you!—a fellow who is not only happy
+with <em>one</em> wife, but who is happy with <em>three</em>, as he will tell you
+himself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not all at the same time, I hope, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb did justice to his friend’s character, by relating how
+the matter really stood; after which he asked permission to introduce
+Anna Updyke. Mary Monson seemed startled at this
+request, and asked several questions, which induced her counsel
+to surmise that she was fearful of being recognised. Nor was
+Dunscomb pleased with all the expedients adopted by his client,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>in order to extract information from him. He thought they
+slightly indicated cunning, a quality that he might be said to
+abhor. Accustomed as he was to all the efforts of ingenuity in
+illustrating a principle or maintaining a proposition, he had
+always avoided everything like sophistry and falsehood. This
+weakness on the part of Mary Monson, however, was soon forgotten
+in the graceful manner in which she acquiesced in the
+wish of the stranger to be admitted. The permission was finally
+accorded, as if an honour were received, with the tact of a female
+and the easy dignity of a gentlewoman.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna Updyke possessed a certain ardour of character that had
+more than once, given her prudent and sagacious mother uneasiness,
+and which sometimes led her into the commission of acts,
+always innocent in themselves, and perfectly under the restraint
+of principles, which the world would have been apt to regard as
+imprudent. Such, however, was far from being her reputation,
+her modesty and the diffidence with which she regarded herself,
+being amply sufficient to protect her from the common observation,
+even while most beset by the weakness named. Her love
+for John Wilmeter was so disinterested, or to herself so seemed
+to be, that she fancied she could even assist in bringing about
+his union with another woman, were that necessary to his happiness.
+She believed that this mysterious stranger was, to say the
+least, an object of intense interest with John, which soon made
+her an object of intense interest with herself; and each hour
+increased her desire to become acquainted with one so situated,
+friendless, accused, and seemingly suspended by a thread over
+an abyss, as she was. When she first made her proposal to
+Dunscomb to be permitted to visit his client, the wary and experienced
+counsellor strongly objected to the step. It was imprudent,
+could lead to no good, and might leave an impression
+unfavourable to Anna’s own character. But this advice was
+unheeded by a girl of Anna Updyke’s generous <a id='corr258.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='temperament'>temperament.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_258.33'><ins class='correction' title='temperament'>temperament.</ins></a></span>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>Quiet and gentle as she ordinarily appeared to be, there was a
+deep under-current of feeling and enthusiasm in her moral constitution,
+that bore her onward in any course which she considered
+to be right, with a total abnegation of self. This was a quality
+to lead to good or evil, as it might receive a direction; and
+happily nothing had yet occurred in her brief existence to carry
+her away towards the latter goal.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Surprised at the steadiness and warmth with which his young
+friend persevered in her request, Dunscomb, after obtaining the
+permission of her mother, and promising to take good care of
+his charge, was permitted to convey Anna to Biberry, in the
+manner related.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Now, that her wish was about to be gratified, Anna Updyke,
+like thousands of others who have been more impelled by impulses
+than governed by reason, shrank from the execution of
+her own purposes. But the generous ardour revived in her in
+time to save appearances; and she was admitted by well-meaning
+Mrs. Gott to the gallery of the prison, leaning on Dunscomb’s
+arm, much as she might have entered a drawing-room, in a regular
+morning call.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The meeting between these two charming young women was
+frank and cordial, though slightly qualified by the forms of the
+world. A watchful and critical observer might have detected
+less of nature in Mary Monson’s manner than in that of her
+guest, even while the welcome she gave her visitor was not without
+cordiality and feeling. It is true that her courtesy was more
+elaborate and European, if one may use the expression, than it
+is usual to see in an American female, and her air was less ardent
+than that of Anna; but the last was highly struck with her
+countenance and general appearance, and, on the whole, not
+dissatisfied with her own reception.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The power of sympathy and the force of affinities soon made
+themselves felt, as between these two youthful females. Anna
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>regarded Mary as a stranger most grievously wronged; and forgetting
+all that there was which was questionable or mysterious
+in her situation, or remembering it only to feel the influence of
+its interest, while she submitted to a species of community of
+feeling with John Wilmeter, as she fancied, and soon got to be
+as much entranced with the stranger as seemed to be the fate of
+all who approached the circle of her acquaintance. On the other
+hand, Mary Monson felt a consolation and gratification in this
+visit to which she had long been a stranger. Good Mrs. Gott
+was kind-hearted and a woman, but she had no claim to the refinement
+and peculiar sensibilities of a lady; while Marie Moulin,
+discreet, respectful, even wise as she was in her own way, was,
+after all, nothing but an upper servant. The chasm between the
+cultivated and the uncultivated, the polished and the unpolished,
+is wide; and the accused fully appreciated the change, when one
+of her own class in life, habits, associations, and, if the reader
+will, prejudices, so unexpectedly appeared to sympathize with,
+and to console her. Under such circumstances, three or four
+hours made the two fast and deeply-interested friends, on their
+own accounts, to say nothing of the effect produced by the generous
+advances of one, and the perilous condition of the other.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb returned to town that evening, leaving Anna
+Updyke behind him, ostensibly under the care of Mrs. Gott.
+Democracy has been carried so far on the high road of ultraism
+in New York, as in very many interests to become the victim of
+its own expedients. Perhaps the people are never so far from
+exercising a healthful, or indeed, any authority at all, as when
+made to seem, by the expedients of demagogues, to possess an
+absolute control. It is necessary merely to bestow a power which
+it is impossible for the masses to wield with intelligence, in order
+to effect this little piece of legerdemain in politics, the quasi
+people in all such cases becoming the passive instruments in the
+hands of their leaders, who strengthen their own authority by
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>this seeming support of the majority. In all cases, however, in
+which the agency of numbers can be felt, its force is made to
+prevail, the tendency necessarily being to bring down all representation
+to the level of the majority. The effect of the change
+has been pretty equally divided between good and evil. In many
+cases benefits have accrued to the community by the exercise of
+this direct popular control, while in probably quite as many the
+result has been exactly the reverse of that which was anticipated.
+In no one instance, we believe it will be generally admitted, has
+the departure from the old practice been less advantageous than
+in rendering the office of sheriff elective. Instead of being a
+leading and independent man, who has a pride in his position,
+and regards the character of his county as he does his own, this
+functionary has got to be, nine times in ten, a mere political
+manœuvrer, who seeks the place as a reward for party labours,
+and fills it very much for his personal benefit, conferring no
+dignity on it by his own position and character, lessening its
+authority by his want of the qualities calculated to increase it,
+and, in a good many instances, making it quite as difficult to wrest
+money from <em>his</em> hands, as from those of the original debtor.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is a consequence of this state of things that the sheriff has
+quite lost all, or nearly all of the personal consideration that was
+once connected with his office; and has sunk, in most of the
+strictly rural counties, into a gaoler, and the head of the active
+bailiffs. His object is altogether money; and the profit connected
+with the keeping of the prisoners, now reduced almost entirely
+to felons, the accused, and persons committed for misdemeanors,
+is one of the inducements for aspiring to an office once so honourable.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In this state of things, it is not at all surprising that Dunscomb
+was enabled to make such an arrangement with Mrs. Gott
+as would place Anna Updyke in a private room in the house
+attached to the gaol, and which formed the sheriff’s <a id='corr261.32'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='dwelling'>dwelling.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_261.32'><ins class='correction' title='dwelling'>dwelling.</ins></a></span>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>The counsellor preferred leaving her with Mrs. Horton; but to
+this Anna herself objected, both because she had taken a strong
+dislike to the garrulous but shrewd landlady, and because it
+would have separated her too much from the person she had
+come especially to console and sympathize with.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The arrangement made, Dunscomb, as has already been mentioned,
+took his departure for town, with the understanding that
+he was to return the succeeding week; the Circuit and Oyer and
+Terminer sitting on Monday; and the District Attorney, Mr.
+Garth, having given notice to her counsel that the indictment
+against Mary Monson would be certainly traversed the second
+day of the sitting, which would be on Tuesday.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id005'>
+<img src='images/i_266.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Let her locks be the reddest that ever were seen,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And her eyes may be e’en any colour but green;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Be they light, gray, or black, their lustre and hue,</div>
+ <div class='line'>I swear I’ve no choice, only let her have two.”</div>
+ <div class='line in37'><cite>The Duenna.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>Two days after this, Dunscomb was in his library, late at night,
+holding a brief discourse with McBrain’s coachman, who has
+been already introduced to the reader. Some orders had been
+given to the last, in relation to another trip to Biberry, whither
+the master and our lawyer were to proceed next day. The man
+was an old and indulged servant, and often took great liberties
+in these conferences. In this respect the Americans of his class
+differ very little from the rest of their fellow-creatures, notwithstanding
+all that has been said and written to the contrary. They
+obey the impulses of their characters much as the rest of mankind,
+though not absolutely without some difference in manner.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I s’poses, ’Squire Dunscomb, that this is like to be the last
+journey that I and the doctor will have to take soon ag’in, in
+<em>that</em> quarter,” coolly observed Stephen, when his master’s friend
+had told him the hour to be at the door, with the other preparations
+that would be necessary; “unless we should happen to be
+called in at the <em>post mortal</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<span lang="la"><i>Post mortem</i></span>, you must mean, Hoof,” a slight smile flashing
+on the lawyer’s countenance, and as quickly disappearing. “So
+you consider it a settled thing that my client is to be found
+guilty?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>“That’s what they say, sir; and things turn out, in this
+country, pretty much as they say aforehand. For my part, sir,
+I never quite liked the criminal’s looks.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Her <em>looks</em>! I do not know where you would go to find a
+more lovely young woman, Stephen!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was said with a vivacity and suddenness that startled the
+coachman a little. Even Dunscomb seemed surprised at his own
+animation, and had the grace to change colour. The fact was,
+that he too was feeling the influence of woman, youthful, lovely,
+spirited, refined, and surrounded with difficulties. This was the
+third of Mary Monson’s conquests since her arrest, if John Wilmeter’s
+wavering admiration could be placed in this category;
+viz., Timms, the nephew, and the counsellor himself. Neither
+was absolutely in love; but each and all submitted to an interest
+of an unusual degree in the person, character and fortunes of this
+unknown female. Timms, alone, had got so far as to contemplate
+a marriage; the idea having crossed his mind that it might be
+almost as useful as popularity, to become the husband of one
+possessed of so much money.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll not deny her <em>good</em> looks, ’Squire,” returned Stephen
+Hoof—or Stephen Huff, as he called himself—“but it’s her
+<em>bad</em> looks that isn’t so much to my fancy. Vhy, sir, once the
+doctor had a horse that was agreeable enough to the eye, having
+a good colour and most of the p’ints, but who wasn’t no traveller,
+not a bit on’t. One that know’d the animal could see where the
+fault lay, the fetlock j’int being oncommon longish; and that’s
+what I call <em>good</em> looks and <em>bad</em> looks.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You mean, Stephen,” said Dunscomb, who had regained all
+his <span lang="fr"><i>sang froid</i></span>, “that Mary Monson has a bad-looking ankle, I
+suppose, wherein I think you miserably mistaken. No matter;
+she will not have to travel under your lash very far. But, how
+is it with the reporters?—Do you see any more of your friend
+that asks so many questions?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>“They be an axing set, ’Squire, if anybody can be so called,”
+returned Stephen, grinning. “Would you think it, sir?—one
+day when I was a comin’ in from Timbully empty, one on ’em
+axed me for a ride! a chap as hadn’t his foot in a reg’lar private
+coach since he was born, a wantin’ to drive about in a wehicle as
+well known as Doctor McBrain’s best carriage! Them’s the
+sort of chaps that spreads all the reports that’s going up and
+down the land, they tell me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They do their share of it, Stephen; though there are enough
+to help them who do not openly belong to their corps. Well;
+what does your acquaintance want to know now?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oncommon curious, ’Squire, about the bones. He axed me
+more than forty questions; what we thought of them; and about
+their being male or female bones; and how we know’d; and a
+great many more sich matters. I answered him accordin’ to my
+abilities; and so he made an article on the subject, and has sent
+me the papers.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“An article! Concerning Mary Monson, and on your information?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sartain, sir; and the bones. Vhy they cut articles out of
+much narrower cloth, I can tell you, ’Squire. There’s the cooks,
+and chambermaids, and vaiters about town, none of vich can hold
+up their heads with a reg’lar, long-established physician’s coachman,
+who goes far ahead of even an omnibus driver in public
+estimation, as you must know, ’Squire—but such sort of folks
+furnish many an article for the papers now-a-days—yes, and
+articles that ladies and gentlemen read.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is certainly a singular source of useful knowledge—one
+must hope they are well-grounded, or they will soon cease
+to be ladies and gentlemen at all. Have you the paper about
+you, Stephen?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Hoof handed the lawyer a journal folded with a paragraph in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>view that was so much thumbed and dirtied, it was not very easy
+to read it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We understand that the trial of Mary Monson, for the murder
+of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin,” said the ‘article,’ “will
+come off in the adjoining county of Dukes, at a very early day.
+Strong attempts have been made to make it appear that the
+skeletons found in the ruins of Goodwin’s dwelling, which our
+readers will remember was burned at the time of the murders,
+are not human bones; but, we have been at great pains to investigate
+this very material point, and have no hesitation in giving
+it as our profound conviction that it will be made to appear that
+these melancholy memorials are all that remain of the excellent
+couple who were so suddenly taken out of existence. We do not
+speak lightly on this subject, having gone to the fountain-head
+for our facts, as well as for our science.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Hoof on McBrain!” muttered Dunscomb, arching his brows—“this
+is much of a piece with quite one-half of the knowledge
+that is poured into the popular mind, now-a-days. Thank you,
+Stephen; I will keep this paper, which may be of use at the
+trial.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I thought our opinions was vorth something more than nothing,
+sir,” answered the gratified coachman—“a body doesn’t
+ride at all hours, day and night, year arter year, and come out
+where he started. I vishes you to keep that ’ere paper, ’Squire,
+a little carefully, for it may be wanted in the college where they
+reads all sorts of things, one of these days.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It shall be cared for, my friend—I hear some one at the
+street-door bell.—It is late for a call; and I fear Peter has gone
+to bed. See who is there, and good night.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Stephen withdrew, the ringing being repeated a little impatiently,
+and was soon at the street-door. The fellow admitted
+the visiters, and went ruminating homeward, Dunscomb maintaining
+a very respectable reputation, in a bachelor point of view,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>for morals. As for the lawyer himself, he was in the act of
+reading a second time the precious opinion expressed in the journals,
+when the door of his library opened, a little hesitatingly it
+must be confessed, and two females stood on its <a id='corr267.4'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='threshold'>threshold.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_267.4'><ins class='correction' title='threshold'>threshold.</ins></a></span>
+Although his entirely unexpected visiters were so much muffled
+in shawls and veils it was not possible to distinguish even the
+outlines of their persons, Dunscomb fancied each was youthful
+and handsome, the instant he cast his eyes on them. The result
+showed how well he guessed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Throwing aside the garments that concealed their forms and
+faces, Mary Monson and Anna Updyke advanced into the room.
+The first was perfectly self-possessed and brilliantly handsome;
+while her companion, flushed with excitement and exercise, was
+not much behind her in this important particular. Dunscomb
+started, and fancied there was felony, even in his hospitality.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You know how difficult it is for me to travel by daylight,”
+commenced Mary Monson, in the most natural manner in the
+world; “that, and the distance we had to drive, must explain
+the unseasonableness of this visit. You told me once, yourself,
+that you are both a late and an early man, which encouraged me
+to venture. Mr. Timms has written me a letter which I have
+thought it might be well to show you. There it is; and when
+you have cast an eye over it, we will speak of its contents.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, this is very much like a conditional proposal of marriage!”
+cried Dunscomb, dropping the hand that held the letter,
+as soon as he had read the first paragraph. “Conditional, so far
+as the result of your trial is concerned!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I forgot the opening of the epistle, giving very little thought
+to its purport; though Mr. Timms has not written me a line
+lately that has not touched on this interesting subject. A marriage
+between him and me is so entirely out of the way of all
+the possibilities, that I look upon his advances as mere embellishment.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>I have answered him directly in the negative once, and
+that ought to satisfy any prudent person. They tell me no woman
+should marry a man she has once refused; and I shall plead
+this as a reason for continued obduracy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was said pleasantly, and without the least appearance of
+resentment; but in a way to show she regarded her attorney’s proposal
+as very much out of the beaten track. As for Dunscomb,
+he passed his hand over his brows, and read the rest of a pretty
+long letter with grave attention. The purely business part of
+this communication was much to the point; important, clearly
+put, and every way creditable to the writer. The lawyer read
+it attentively a second time, ere he once opened his mouth in
+comments.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And why is this shown to me?” he asked, a little vexed, as
+was seen in his manner. “I have told you it is felony to assist
+a prisoner in an attempt to escape.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have shown it to you, because I have not the remotest intention,
+Mr. Dunscomb, to attempt anything of the sort. I shall
+not quit my asylum so easily.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then why are you here, at this hour, with the certainty that
+most of the night must be passed on the road, if you mean to
+return to your prison ere the sun reappears?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For air, exercise, and to show you this letter. I am often in
+town, but am compelled, for more reasons than you are acquainted
+with, to travel by night.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“May I ask where you obtain a vehicle to make these journies
+in?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I use my own carriage, and trust to a very long-tried and
+most faithful domestic. I think Miss Updyke will say he drove
+us not only carefully, but with great speed. On that score, we
+have no grounds of complaint. But I am very much fatigued,
+and must ask permission to sleep for an hour. You have a drawing-room,
+I take it for granted, Mr. Dunscomb?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>“My niece fancies she has two. Shall I put lights in one of
+them?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By no means. Anna knows the house as well as she does
+her mother’s, and will do the honours. On no account let Miss
+Wilmeter be disturbed. I am a little afraid of meeting <em>her</em>,
+since we have practised a piece of treachery touching Marie
+Moulin. But, no matter; one hour on a sofa, in a dark room,
+is all I ask. That will bring us to midnight, when the carriage
+will again be at the door. You wish to see your mother, my
+dear, and here is a safe and very suitable attendant to accompany
+you to her house and back again.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this was said pleasantly, but with a singular air of authority,
+as if this mysterious being were accustomed to plan out and
+direct the movements of others. She had her way. In a minute
+or two she was stretched on a sofa, covered with a shawl, the door
+was closed on her, and Dunscomb was on his way to Mrs.
+McBrain’s residence, which was at some distance from his own,
+with Anna leaning on his arm.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Of course, my dear,” said the lawyer, as he and his beautiful
+companion left his own door at that late hour of the night, “we
+shall see no more of Mary Monson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not see her again! I should be very, very sorry to think
+that, sir!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She is no simpleton, and means to take Timms’s advice.
+That fellow has written a strong letter, in no expectation of its
+being seen, I fancy, in which he points out a new source of danger;
+and plainly advises his client to abscond. I can see the
+infatuation of love in this; for the letter, if produced, would
+bring him into great trouble.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And you suppose, sir, that Mary Monson intends to follow
+this advice?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Beyond a question. She is not only a very clever, but she
+is a very cunning woman. This last quality is one that I admire
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>in her the least. I should be half in love with her myself”—This
+was exactly the state of the counsellor’s feelings towards
+his client, in spite of his bravado and affected discernment; a
+woman’s charms often overshadowing a philosophy that is deeper
+even than his—“but for this very trait, which I find little to
+my taste. I take it for granted you are sent home to be put
+under your mother’s care, where you properly belong; and I am
+got out of the way to save me from the pains and penalties of an
+indictment for felony.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think you do not understand Mary Monson, uncle Tom”—so
+Anna had long called her friend’s relative, as it might be in
+anticipation of the time when the appellation would be correct—“She
+is not the sort of person to do as you suggest; but would
+rather make it a point of honour to remain, and face any accusation
+whatever.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She must have nerves of steel to confront justice in a case
+like <a id='corr270.17'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='her’s'>hers</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_270.17'><ins class='correction' title='her’s'>hers</ins></a></span>, and in the present state of public feeling in Duke’s.
+Justice is a very pretty thing to talk about, my dear; but we old
+practitioners know that it is little more, in human hands, than
+the manipulations of human passions. Of late years, the outsiders—outside
+barbarians they might very properly be termed—have
+almost as much to do with the result of any warmly-contested
+suit, as the law and evidence. ‘Who is on the jury?’ is
+the first question asked now-a-days; not what are the facts. I
+have told all this, very plainly, to Mary Monson——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To induce her to fly?” asked Anna, prettily, and a little
+smartly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not so much that, as to induce her to consent to an application
+for delay. The judges of this country are so much over-worked,
+so little paid, and usually are so necessitous, that almost
+any application for delay is granted. Business at chambers is
+sadly neglected; for that is done in a corner, and does not address
+itself to the public eye, or seek public eulogiums; but he is
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>thought the cleverest fellow who will soonest sweep out a crowded
+<a id='corr271.2'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='calender'>calendar</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_271.2'><ins class='correction' title='calender'>calendar</ins></a></span>. Causes are tried by tallow candles until midnight,
+with half the jurors asleep; and hard-working men, accustomed
+to be asleep by eight each night, are expected to keep their
+thoughts and minds active in the face of all these obstacles.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you tell me this, uncle Tom, in the expectation that I
+am to understand it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I beg your pardon, child; but my heart is full of the failing
+justice of the land. We shout hosannas in praise of the institutions,
+while we shut our eyes to the gravest consequences that
+are fast undermining us in the most important of all our interests.
+But here we are already; I had no notion we had walked so fast.
+Yes, there is papa McBrain’s one-horse vehicle, well emptied of
+its contents, I hope, by a hard day’s work.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A doctor’s life must be so laborious!” exclaimed the pretty
+Anna. “I think nothing could tempt me to marry a physician.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is well a certain lady of our acquaintance was not of your
+way of thinking,” returned Dunscomb, laughing; for his good
+humour always returned when he could give his friend a rub on
+his matrimonial propensities, “else would McBrain have been
+troubled to get his last and best. Never mind, my dear; he is
+a good-natured fellow, and will make a very kind papa.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna made no reply, but rang the bell a little pettishly; for
+no child likes to have a mother married a second time, there being
+much greater toleration for fathers, and asked her companion
+in. As the wife of a physician in full practice, the bride had
+already changed many of her long-cherished habits. In this respect,
+however, she did no more than follow the fortunes of
+woman, who so cheerfully makes any sacrifice in behalf of him
+she loves. If men were only one-half as disinterested, as self-denying,
+and as true as the other sex, in all that relates to the
+affections, what a blessed state would that of matrimony be!
+Still, there are erring, and selfish, and domineering, and capricious,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>vain, heartless and self-willed females, whom nature never
+intended for married life; and who are guilty of a species of
+profanation, when they stand up and vow to love, honour and
+obey their husbands. Many of these disregard their solemn
+pledges, made at the altar, and under the immediate invocation
+of the Deity, as they would disregard a promise made in jest,
+and think no more of the duties and offices that are so peculiarly
+the province of their sex, than of the passing and idle promises
+of vanity. But, if such women exist, and that they do our daily
+experience proves, they are as exceptions to the great law of
+female faith, which is tenderness and truth. They are not
+women in character, whatever they may be in appearance; but
+creatures in the guise of a sex that they discredit and caricature.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. McBrain was not a person of the disposition just described.
+She was gentle and good, and bid fair to make the
+evening of her second husband’s days very happy. Sooth to
+say, she was a good deal in love, notwithstanding her time of
+life, and the still more mature years of the bridegroom; and had
+been so much occupied with the duties and cares that belonged
+to her recent change of condition, as to be a little forgetful of
+her daughter. At no other period of their joint lives would she
+have permitted this beloved child to be absent from her, under
+such circumstances, without greater care for her safety and comforts;
+but there is a honey-week, as well as a honey-moon; and
+the intenseness of its feelings might very well disturb the ordinary
+round of even maternal duties. Glad enough, however,
+was she now to see her daughter; when Anna, blooming, and
+smiling, and blushing, flew into her mother’s arms.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There she is, widow—Mrs. Updyke—I beg pardon—married
+woman, and Mrs. McBrain,” cried Dunscomb—“Ned is
+such an uneasy fellow, he keeps all his friends in a fever with
+his emotions, and love, and matrimony; and that just suits him,
+as he has only to administer a pill and set all right again. But
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>there she is, safe and <em>unmarried</em>, thank heaven; which is always
+a sort of consolation to me. She’s back again, and you will do
+well to keep her, until my nephew, Jack, comes to ask permission
+to carry her off, for good and all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna blushed more deeply than ever, while the mother smiled
+and embraced her child. Then succeeded questions and answers,
+until Mrs. McBrain had heard the whole story of her daughter’s
+intercourse with Mary Monson, so far as it has been made known
+to the reader. Beyond that, Anna did not think herself authorized
+to go; or, if she made any revelation, it would be premature
+for us to repeat it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Here we are, all liable to be indicted for felony,” cried
+Dunscomb, as soon as the young lady had told her tale. “Timms
+will be hanged, in place of his client; and we three will have
+cells at Sing Sing, as <a id='corr273.15'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='accessaries'>accessories</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_273.15'><ins class='correction' title='accessaries'>accessories</ins></a></span> before the act. Yes, my dear
+bride, you are what the law terms a “particeps criminis,” and
+may look out for the sheriff before you are a week older.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And why all this, Mr. Dunscomb?” demanded the half-amused,
+half-frightened Mrs. McBrain.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For aiding and abetting a prisoner in breaking gaol. Mary
+Monson is off, beyond a question. She lay down in Sarah’s
+drawing-room, pretending to be wearied, ten minutes since; and
+has no doubt got through with her nap already, and is on her
+way to Canada, or Texas, or California, or some other out-of-the-way
+country; Cuba, for aught I know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is this so, think you, Anna?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not, mamma. So far from believing Mary Monson to
+be flying to any out-of-the-way place, I have no doubt that we
+shall find her fast asleep on Mr. Dunscomb’s sofa.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<em>Uncle</em> Dunscomb’s sofa, if you please, young lady.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, sir; I shall call you uncle no longer,” answered Anna,
+blushing scarlet—“until—until——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have a legal claim to the use of the word. Well, that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>will come in due time, I trust; if not, it shall be my care to see
+you have a title to a still dearer appellation. There, widow—Mrs.
+McBrain, I mean—I think that will do. But, seriously,
+child, you cannot imagine that Mary Monson means ever to return
+to her prison, there to be tried for life?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If there is faith in woman, she does, sir; else would I not
+have exposed myself to the risk of accompanying her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In what manner did you come to town, Anna?” asked the
+anxious mother. “Are you not now at the mercy of some driver
+of a hackney-coach, or of some public cabman?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understand that the carriage which was in waiting for us,
+half a mile from Biberry, is Mrs. Monson’s——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mrs.!” interrupted Dunscomb—“Is she, then, a married
+woman?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna looked down, trembled, and was conscious of having betrayed
+a secret. So very precious to herself had been the communication
+of Marie Moulin on this point, that it was ever
+uppermost in her thoughts; and it had now escaped her under
+an impulse she could not control. It was too late, however, to
+retreat; and a moment’s reflection told her it would every way
+be better to tell all she knew, on this one point, at least.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was soon done; for even Marie Moulin’s means of information
+were somewhat limited. This Swiss had formerly
+known the prisoner by another name; though what name, she
+would not reveal. This was in Europe, where Marie had actually
+passed three years in this mysterious person’s employment. Marie
+had even come to America, in consequence of this connection, at
+the death of her own mother; but, unable to find her former
+mistress, had taken service with Sarah Wilmeter. Mary Monson
+was single and unbetrothed when she left Europe. Such was
+Marie Moulin’s statement. But it was understood she was now
+married; though to whom, she could not say. If Anna Updyke
+knew more than this, she did not reveal it at that <a id='corr274.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='interview'>interview.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_274.33'><ins class='correction' title='interview'>interview.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>“Ah! Here is another case of a wife’s elopement from her
+husband,” interrupted Dunscomb, as soon as Anna reached this
+point in her narration; “and I dare say something or other will
+be found in this wretched Code to uphold her in her disobedience.
+You have done well to marry, Mrs. McBrain; for, according to
+the modern opinions in these matters, instead of providing yourself
+with a lord and master, you have only engaged an upper-servant.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No true-hearted woman can ever look upon her husband in
+so degrading a light,” answered the bride, with spirit.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That will do for three days; but wait to the end of three
+years. There are runaway wives enough, at this moment, roaming
+up and down the land, setting the laws of God and man at
+defiance, and jingling their purses, when they happen to have
+money, under their lawful husbands’ noses; ay, enough to set
+up a three-tailed bashaw! But this damnable Code will uphold
+them, in some shape or other, my life for it. One can’t endure
+her husband because he smokes; another finds fault with his not
+going to church but once a day; another quarrels with him for
+going three times; another says he has too much dinner-company;
+and another protests she can’t get a male friend inside of
+her house. All these ladies, forgetful as they are of their highest
+earthly duties, forgetful as they are of woman’s very nature, are
+the models of divine virtues, and lay claim to the sympathies of
+mankind. They get those of fools; but prudent and reflecting
+men shake their heads at such wandering deisses.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are severe on us women, Mr. Dunscomb,” said the
+bride.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not on you, my dear Mrs. McBrain—never a syllable on
+<em>you</em>. But go on, child; I have had the case of one of these
+vagrant wives in my hands, and know how mistaken has been
+the disposition to pity her. Men lean to the woman’s side; but
+the frequency of the abuse is beginning to open the eyes of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>public. Go on, Anna dear, and let us hear it all—or all you
+have to tell us.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Very little remained to be related. Marie Moulin, herself,
+knew very little of that which had occurred since her separation
+from her present mistress in France. She did make one statement,
+however, that Anna had deemed very important; but
+which she felt bound to keep as a secret, in consequence of the
+injunctions received from the Swiss.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should have a good deal to say about this affair,” observed
+Dunscomb, when his beautiful companion was done, “did I believe
+that we shall find Mary Monson on our return to my house.
+In that case, I should say to you, my dear widow—Mrs. McBrain,
+I mean—the devil take that fellow Ned, he’ll have half the
+women in town bearing his name before he is done—Well, Heaven
+be praised! he can neither marry <em>me</em>, nor give me a step-father,
+let him do his very best. There’s comfort in that consideration,
+at any rate.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You were about to tell us what you would do,” put in the
+bride, slightly vexed, yet too well assured of the counsellor’s
+attachment to her husband to feel angry—“you must know how
+much value we all give to your advice.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I was about to say that Anna should not return to this
+mysterious convict—no, she is not <em>yet</em> convicted, but she is indicted,
+and that is something—but return she should not, were
+there the least chance of our finding her, on our return home.
+Let her go, then, and satisfy her curiosity, and pass the night
+with Sarah, who must be through with her first nap by this
+time.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna urged her mother to consent to this arrangement, putting
+forward her engagement with Mary Monson, not to desert her.
+McBrain driving to the door, from paying his last visit that
+night, his wife gave her assent to the proposition; the tenderest
+mother occasionally permitting another and more powerful feeling
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>to usurp the place of maternal care. Mrs. McBrain, it must be
+admitted, thought more of the bridegroom, sixty as he was, than
+of her charming daughter; nor was she yet quite free from the
+awkwardness that ever accompanies a new connection of this nature
+when there are grown-up children; more especially on the
+part of the female. Then Anna had communicated to her mother
+a most material circumstance, which it does not suit our
+present purpose to reveal.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Now for a dozen pair of gloves that we do not find Mary
+Monson,” said the lawyer, as he walked smartly towards his own
+residence, with Anna Updyke under his arm.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Done!” cried the young lady—“and you shall <em>pay</em> if you
+lose.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As bound in honour. Peter”—the grey-headed black who
+answered the summons to the door—“will be glad enough to see
+us; for the old fellow is not accustomed to let his young rogue
+of a master in at midnight, with a charming young woman under
+his arm.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna Updyke was right. Mary Monson was in a deep sleep
+on the sofa. So profound was her rest, there was a hesitation
+about disturbing her; though twelve, the hour set for the return
+of the carriage to Biberry, was near. For a few minutes Dunscomb
+conversed with his agreeable companion in his own
+library.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If Jack knew of your being in the house, he would never
+forgive my not having him called.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I shall have plenty of occasions for seeing Jack,” returned
+the young lady, colouring. “You know how assiduous he is in
+this cause, and how devoted he is to the prisoner.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do not run away with any such notion, child; Jack is yours,
+heart and soul.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Hist—there is the carriage; Mary must be called.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Away went Anna, laughing, blushing, but with tears in her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>eyes. In a minute Mary Monson made her appearance, somewhat
+refreshed and calmed by her short nap.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Make no excuse for waking me, Anna,” said this unaccountable
+woman. “We can both sleep on the road. The carriage is
+as easy as a cradle; and, luckily, the roads are quite good.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Still they lead to a prison, Mrs. Monson!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The prisoner smiled, and seemed to be lost in thought. It
+was the first time any of her new acquaintances had ever addressed
+her as a married woman; though Marie Moulin, with
+the exception of her first exclamation at their recent meeting,
+had invariably used the appellation of Madame. All this, however,
+was soon forgotten in the leave-taking. Dunscomb thought
+he had seldom seen a female of higher tone of manners, or greater
+personal charms, than this singular and mysterious young woman
+appeared to be, as she curtsied her adieu.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“What then avail impeachments, or the law’s</div>
+ <div class='line'>Severest condemnation while the queen</div>
+ <div class='line'>May snatch him from the uplifted hand of justice?”</div>
+ <div class='line in31'><cite>Earl of Essex.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>Perhaps the most certain proof that any people can give of a
+high moral condition, is in the administration of justice. Absolute
+infallibility is unattainable to men; but there are wide chasms
+in right and wrong, between the legal justice of one state of society
+and that of another. As the descendants of Englishmen,
+we in this country are apt to ascribe a higher tone of purity to
+the courts of the mother country, than to those of any other
+European nation. In this we may be right, without inferring
+the necessity of believing that even the ermine of England is
+spotless; for it can never be forgotten that Bacon and Jeffries
+once filled her highest judicial seats, to say nothing of many
+others, whose abuses of their trusts have doubtless been lost in
+their comparative obscurity. Passing from the parent to its offspring,
+the condition of American justice, so far as it is dependent
+on the bench, is a profound moral anomaly. It would seem that
+every known expedient of man has been resorted to, to render it
+corrupt, feeble, and ignorant; yet he would be a hardy, not to
+say an audacious commentator, who should presume to affirm that
+it is not entitled to stand in the very foremost ranks of human
+integrity.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Ill paid, without retiring pensions, with nothing to expect in
+the way of family and hereditary honours and dignities; with
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>little, in short, either in possession or in prospect, to give any
+particular inducement to be honest, it is certain that, as a whole,
+the judges of this great republic may lay claim to be classed
+among the most upright of which history furnishes any account.
+Unhappily, popular caprice, and popular ignorance, have been
+brought to bear on the selection of the magistrates, of late; and it
+is easy to predict the result, which, like that on the militia, is soon
+to pull down even this all-important machinery of society to the
+level of the common mind.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Not only have the obvious and well-earned inducements to
+keep men honest—competence, honours, and security in office—been
+recklessly thrown away by the open hand of popular delusion,
+but all the minor expedients by which those who cannot
+think might be made to feel, have been laid aside, leaving the
+machinery of justice as naked as the hand. Although the colonial
+system was never elaborated in these last particulars, there were
+some of its useful and respectable remains, down as late as the
+commencement of the present century. The sheriff appeared
+with his sword, the judge was escorted to and from the court-house
+to his private dwelling with some show of attention and
+respect, leaving a salutary impression of authority on the ordinary
+observer. All this has disappeared. The judge slips into the
+county town almost unknown; lives at an inn amid a crowd of
+lawyers, witnesses, suitors, jurors and horse-shedders, as Timms
+calls them; finds his way to the bench as best he may; and
+seems to think that the more work he can do in the shortest
+time is the one great purpose of his appointment. Nevertheless,
+these men, <em>as yet</em>, are surprisingly incorrupt and intelligent.
+How long it will remain so, no one can predict; if it be for a
+human life, however, the working of the problem will demonstrate
+the fallibility of every appreciation of human motives.
+One bad consequence of the depreciation of the office of a magistrate,
+however, has long been apparent, in the lessening of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>influence of the judge on the juries; the power that alone renders
+the latter institution even tolerable. This is putting an irresponsible,
+usually an ignorant, and often a corrupt arbiter, in the
+judgment-seat, in lieu of the man of high qualities for which it
+was alone intended.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The circuit and oyer and terminer for Duke’s presented nothing
+novel in its bench, its bar, its jurors, and we might add its
+witnesses. The first was a cool-headed, dispassionate man, with
+a very respectable amount of legal learning and experience, and
+a perfectly fair character. No one suspected him of acting wrong
+from evil motives; and when he did err, it was ordinarily from
+the pressure of business; though, occasionally, he was mistaken,
+because the books could not foresee every possible phase of a
+case. The bar was composed of plain, hard-working men, materially
+above the level of Timms, except in connection with mother-wit;
+better educated, better mannered, and, as a whole, of
+materially higher origin; though, as a body, neither profoundly
+learned nor of very refined deportment. Nevertheless, these
+persons had a very fair portion of all the better qualities of the
+northern professional men. They were shrewd, quick in the
+application of their acquired knowledge, ready in their natural
+resources, and had that general aptitude for affairs that probably
+is the fruit of a practice that includes all the different branches
+of the profession. Here and there was a usurer and extortioner
+among them; a fellow who disgraced his calling by running up
+unnecessary bills of cost, by evading the penal statutes passed to
+prevent abuses of this nature, and by cunning attempts to obtain
+more for the use of his money than the law sanctioned. But
+such was not the general character of the Duke’s county bar,
+which was rather to be censured for winking at irregular proceedings
+out of doors, for brow-beating witnesses, and for regarding
+the end so intensely as not always to be particular in reference
+to the means, than for such gross and positively illegal and oppressive
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>measures as those just mentioned. As for the <a id='corr282.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='jurors'>jurors,</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_282.1'><ins class='correction' title='jurors'>jurors,</ins></a></span>
+they were just what that ancient institution might be supposed
+to be, in a country where so many of the body of the people are
+liable to be summoned. An unusually large proportion of these
+men, when all the circumstances are considered, were perhaps as
+fit to be thus employed as could be obtained from the body of the
+community of any country on earth; but a very serious number
+were altogether unsuited to perform the delicate duties of their
+station. Fortunately, the ignorant are very apt to be influenced
+by the more intelligent, in cases of this nature; and by this exercise
+of a very natural power, less injustice is committed than
+might otherwise occur. Here, however, is the opening for the
+“horse-shedding” and “pillowing,” of which Timms has spoken,
+and of which so much use is made around every country court-house
+in the state. This is the crying evil of the times; and,
+taken in connection with the enormous abuse which is rendering
+a competition in news a regular, money-getting occupation, one
+that threatens to set at defiance all laws, principles and facts.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A word remains to be said of the witnesses. Perhaps the
+rarest thing connected with the administration of justice all over
+the world, is an intelligent, perfectly impartial, clear-headed, discriminating
+witness; one who distinctly knows all he says, fully
+appreciates the effect of his words on the jury, and who has the
+disposition to submit what he knows solely to the law and the
+evidence. Men of experience are of opinion that an oath usually
+extracts the truth. We think so too; but it is truth as the witness
+understands it; facts as he has seen them; and opinions
+that, unconsciously to himself, have been warped by reports,
+sneers and malice. In a country of popular sway like this, there
+is not one man in a thousand, probably, who has sufficient independence
+of mind, or sufficient moral courage, to fancy he has
+seen even a fact, if it be of importance, differently from what
+the body of the community has seen it; and nothing is more
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>common than to find witnesses colouring their testimony, lessening
+its force by feeble statements, or altogether abandoning the
+truth, under this pressure from without, in cases of a nature and
+magnitude to awake a strong popular feeling. It is by no means
+uncommon, indeed, to persuade one class of men, by means of
+this influence, that they did not see that which actually occurred
+before their eyes, or that they did see that which never had an
+existence.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Under no circumstances do men congregate with less meritorious
+motives than in meeting in and around a court of justice.
+The object is victory, and the means of obtaining it will not
+always bear the light. The approaching Circuit and Oyer and
+Terminer of Duke’s was no exception to the rule; a crowd of
+evil passions, of sinister practices, and of plausible pretences,
+being arrayed against justice and the law, in two-thirds of the
+causes on the calendar. Then it was that Timms and saucy
+Williams, or Dick Williams, as he was familiarly termed by his
+associates, came out in their strength, playing off against each
+other the out-door practices of the profession. The first indication
+that the former now got of the very serious character of the
+struggle that was about to take place between them, was in the
+extraordinary civility of saucy Williams when they met in the
+bar-room of the inn they each frequented, and which had long
+been the arena of their antagonistical wit and practices.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I never saw you look better, Timms,” said Williams, in the
+most cordial manner imaginable; “on the whole, I do not remember
+to have ever seen you looking so well. You grow younger
+instead of older, every day of your life. By the way, do you
+intend to move on Butterfield against Town this circuit?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should be glad to do it, if you are ready. Cross-notices
+have been given, you know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams knew this very well; and he also knew that it had
+been done to entitle the respective parties to costs, in the event
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>of anything occurring to give either side an advantage; the
+cause being one of those nuts out of which practitioners are very
+apt to extract the whole of the kernel before they are done
+with it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, I am aware of that, and I believe we are quite ready.
+I see that Mr. Town is here, and I observe several of his witnesses;
+but I have so much business, I have no wish to try a
+long slander cause; words spoken in heat, and never thought of
+again, but to make a profit of them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are employed against us in the murder case, I hear?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I rather think the friends of the deceased so regard it; but
+I have scarcely had time to look at the testimony before the
+coroner”—This was a deliberate mystification, and Timms perfectly
+understood it as such, well knowing that the other had
+given the out-door work of the case nearly all of his time for the
+last fortnight—“and I don’t like to move in one of these big
+matters without knowing what I am about. Your senior counsel
+has not yet arrived from town, I believe?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He cannot be here until Wednesday, having to argue a
+great insurance case before the Superior Court to-day and to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This conversation occurred after the grand jury had been
+charged, the petit jurors sworn, and the judge had heard several
+motions for correcting the calendar, laying causes over, &c. &c.
+Two hours later, the District Attorney being absent in his room,
+engaged with the grand jury, Williams arose, and addressed the
+court, which had just called the first civil cause on the calendar.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“May it please the court,” he said, coolly, but with the grave
+aspect of a man who felt he was dealing with a very serious
+matter—“there is a capital indictment depending, a case of arson
+and murder, which it is the intention of the State to call on at
+once.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The judge looked still more grave than the counsel, and it was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>easy to see that he deeply regretted it should fall to his lot to try
+such an issue. He leaned forward, with an elbow on the very
+primitive sort of desk with which he was furnished by the public,
+indented it with the point of his knife, and appeared to be passing
+in review such of the circumstances of this important case
+as he had become acquainted with, judicially. We say ‘judicially;’
+for it is not an easy thing for either judge, counsel, or
+jurors, in the state of society that now exists, to keep distinctly
+in their minds that which has been obtained under legal evidence,
+from that which floats about the community on the thousand
+tongues of rumour—fact from fiction. Nevertheless, the respectable
+magistrate whose misfortune it was to preside on this
+very serious occasion, was a man to perform all his duty to the
+point where public opinion or popular clamour is encountered.
+The last is a bug-bear that few have moral courage to face; and
+the evil consequences are visible, hourly, daily, almost incessantly,
+in most of the interests of life. This popular feeling is the great
+moving lever of the republic; the wronged being placed beneath
+the fulcrum, while the outer arm of the engine is loaded with
+numbers. Thus it is that we see the oldest families among us
+quietly robbed of their estates, after generations of possession;
+the honest man proscribed; the knave and demagogue deified;
+mediocrity advanced to high places; and talents and capacity
+held in abeyance, if not actually trampled under foot. Let the
+truth be said: these are evils to which each year gives additional
+force, until the tyranny of the majority has taken a form and
+combination which, unchecked, must speedily place every personal
+right at the mercy of plausible, but wrong-doing, popular
+combinations.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Has the prisoner been arraigned?” asked the judge. “I
+remember nothing of the sort.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, your honour,” answered Timms, now rising for the first
+time in the discussion, and looking about him as if to scan the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>crowd for witnesses. “The prosecution does not yet know the
+plea we shall put in.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are retained for the prisoner, Mr. Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir; I appear in her behalf. But Mr. Dunscomb is
+also retained, and will be engaged in the New York Superior
+Court until Wednesday, in an insurance case of great magnitude.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No insurance case can be of the magnitude of a trial for
+life,” returned Williams. “The justice of the State must be
+vindicated, and the person of the citizen protected.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This sounded well, and it caused many a head in the crowd,
+which contained both witnesses and jurors, to nod with approbation.
+It is true, that every thoughtful and observant man must
+have had many occasions to observe how fallacious such a declaration
+is, in truth; but it sounded well, and the ears of the
+multitude are always open to flattery.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We have no wish to interfere with the justice of the State,
+or with the protection of the citizen,” answered Timms, looking
+round to note the effect of his words—“our object is to defend
+the innocent; and the great and powerful community of New
+York will find more pleasure in seeing an accused acquitted than
+in seeing fifty criminals condemned.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This sentiment sounded quite as well as that of Williams’s,
+and heads were again nodded in approbation. It told particularly
+well in a paragraph of a newspaper that Timms had engaged to
+publish what he considered his best remarks.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It seems to me, gentlemen,” interposed the judge, who understood
+the meaning of these <span lang="la"><i>ad captandum</i></span> remarks perfectly
+well, “that your conversation is premature at least, if not altogether
+improper. Nothing of this nature should be said until
+the prisoner has been arraigned.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I submit, your honour, and acknowledge the justice of the
+reproof,” answered Williams. “I now move the court, on behalf
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>of the District Attorney, that Mary Monson, who stands
+indicted for murder and arson, <em>be</em> arraigned, and her pleas entered——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I could wish this step might be delayed until I can hear
+from the leading counsel for the defence,” objected Timms,
+“which must now occur in the course of a very few hours.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I perceive that the prisoner is a female,” said the judge, in
+a tone of regret.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, your honour; she is, and young and handsome, they
+tell me,” answered Williams; “for I have never been able to
+get a sight of her. She is too much of a great lady to be seen
+at a grate, by all I can learn of her and her proceedings. Plays
+on the harp, sir; has a French <span lang="fr"><i>valet de chambre</i></span>, or something
+of that sort——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is all wrong, Mr. Williams, and must be checked,”
+again interposed the judge, though very mildly; for, while his
+experience taught him that the object of such remarks was to
+create prejudice, and his conscience prompted him to put an end
+to a proceeding so unrighteous, he stood in so much awe of this
+particular counsel, who had half a dozen presses at his command,
+that it required a strong inducement to bring him out as he
+ought to be, in opposition to any of his more decided movements.
+As for the community, with the best intentions as a whole, it
+stood passive under this gross wrong. What ‘is everybody’s
+business’ is literally ‘nobody’s business,’ when the public virtue
+is the great moving power; the upright preferring their ease to
+everything else, and the ill-disposed manifesting the ceaseless
+activity of the wicked. All the ancient barriers to this species
+of injustice, which have been erected by the gathered wisdom
+of our fathers and the experience of ages, have been thrown
+down by the illusions of a seeming liberty, and the whole machinery
+of justice is left very much at the mercy of an outside
+public opinion, which, in itself, is wielded by a few of the worst
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>men in the country. These are sober truths, as a close examination
+will show to any one who may choose to enter into the
+investigation of the ungrateful subject. It is not what is <em>said</em>,
+we very well know; but it is what is <em>done</em>.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams received the mild rebuke of the judge like one who
+felt his position; paying very little respect to its spirit or its
+letter. He knew his own power, and understood perfectly well
+that this particular magistrate was soon to run for a new term of
+office, and might be dealt with more freely on that account.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know it is very wrong, your honour—very wrong”—rejoined
+the wily counsel to what had been said—“so wrong,
+that I regard it as an insult to the State. When a person is
+capitally indicted, man or woman, it is his or her bounden duty
+to put all overboard, that there may be no secrets. The harp
+was once a sacred instrument, and it is highly improper to introduce
+it into our gaols and criminals’ cells——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There is no criminal as yet—no crime can be established
+without proof, and the verdict of twelve good men and true,”
+interrupted Timms—“I object, therefore, to the learned counsel’s
+remarks, and——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” put in the judge, a little more
+pointedly than in his former rebuke—“this is all wrong, I repeat.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You perceive, my brother Timms,” rejoined the indomitable
+Williams, “the court is altogether against you. This is not a
+country of lords and ladies, fiddles and harps, but of the <em>people</em>;
+and when the people find a bill for a capital offence, capital care
+should be taken not to give more offence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams had provided himself with a set of supporters that
+are common enough in the courts, whose business it was to grin,
+and sneer, and smile, and look knowing at particular hits of the
+counsel, and otherwise to back up his wit, and humour, and logic,
+by the agency of sympathy. This expedient is getting to be
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>quite common, and is constantly practised in suits that relate, in
+any manner, to politics or political men. It is not so common,
+certainly, in trials for life; though it may be, and has been, used
+with effect, even on such serious occasions. The influence of
+these wily demonstrations, which are made to have the appearance
+of public opinion, is very great on the credulous and ignorant;
+men thus narrowly gifted invariably looking around them
+to find support in the common mind.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The hits of Williams told, to Timms’s great annoyance; nor
+did he know exactly how to parry them. Had he been the
+assailant himself, he could have wielded the weapons of his antagonist
+with equal skill; but his dexterity was very much confined
+to the offensive in cases of this nature; for he perfectly
+comprehended all the prejudices on which it was necessary to
+act, while he possessed but a very narrow knowledge of the
+means of correcting them. Nevertheless, it would not do to let
+the prosecution close the business of the day with so much of
+the air of triumph, and the indomitable attorney made another
+effort to place his client more favourably before the
+public eye.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The harp is a most religious instrument,” he coolly observed,
+“and it has no relation to the violin, or any light and frivolous
+piece of music. David used it as the instrument of praise, and
+why should not a person who stands charged——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have told you, gentlemen, that all this is irregular, and
+cannot be permitted,” cried the judge, with a little more of the
+appearance of firmness than he had yet exhibited.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The truth was, that he stood less in fear of Timms than of
+Williams; the connection of the last with the reporters being
+known to be much the most extensive. But Timms knew his
+man, and understood very well what the committal of counsel
+had got to be, under the loose notions of liberty that have grown
+up in the country within the last twenty years. Time was, and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>that at no remote period, when the lawyer who had been thus
+treated for indecorum at the bar would have been a disgraced
+man, and would have appealed in vain to the community for
+sympathy; little or none would he have received. Men then
+understood that the law was their master, established by themselves,
+and was to be respected accordingly. But that feeling is
+in a great measure extinct. Liberty is every hour getting to be
+more and more personal; its concentration consisting in rendering
+every man his own legislator, his own judge, and his own
+juror. It is monarchical and aristocratic, and all that is vile and
+dangerous, to see power exercised by any but the people; those
+whom the constitution and the laws have set apart expressly to
+discharge a delegated authority being obliged, by clamours sustained
+by all the arts of cupidity and fraud, to defer to the passing
+opinions of the hour. No one knew this better than Timms,
+who had just as lively a recollection as his opponent that this
+very judge was to come before the people, in the next autumn,
+as a candidate for re-election. The great strain of American
+foresight was consequently applied to this man’s conscience, who,
+over-worked and under-paid, was expected to rise above the weaknesses
+of humanity, as a sort of sublimated political theory that
+is getting to be much in fashion, and which, <em>if true</em>, would supersede
+the necessity of any court or any government at all. Timms
+knew this well, and was not to be restrained by one who was thus
+stretched, as it might be, on the tenter-hooks of political uncertainty.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, your honour,” retorted this indomitable individual, “I
+am fully aware of its impropriety, and was just as much so when
+the counsel for the prosecution was carrying it on to the injury
+of my client; I might say almost unchecked, if not encouraged.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The court did its best to stop Mr. Williams, sir; and must
+do the same to keep you within the proper limits of practice.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>Unless these improprieties are restrained, I shall confine the
+counsel for the State to the regular officer, and assign new counsel
+to the accused, as from the court.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Both Williams and Timms looked amused at this menace,
+neither having the smallest notion the judge dare put such a
+threat in execution. What! presume to curb licentiousness
+when it chose to assume the aspect of human rights? This was
+an act behind the age, more especially in a country in which
+liberty is so fast getting to be all means, with so very little
+regard to the end.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A desultory conversation ensued, when it was finally settled
+that the trial must be postponed until the arrival of the counsel
+expected from town. From the beginning of the discussion,
+Williams knew such must be the termination of that day’s work;
+but he had accomplished two great objects by his motion. In
+the first place, by conceding delay to the accused, it placed the
+prosecution on ground where a similar favour might be asked,
+should it be deemed expedient. This resisting of motions for
+delay is a common <em>ruse</em> of the bar, since it places the party whose
+rights are seemingly postponed in a situation to demand a similar
+concession. Williams knew that his case was ready as related to
+his brief, the testimony, and all that could properly be produced
+in court; but he thought it might be strengthened out of doors,
+among the jurors and the witnesses. We say, the witnesses; because
+even this class of men get their impressions, quite frequently,
+as much from what they subsequently hear, as from
+what they have seen and know. A good reliable witness, who
+relates no more than he actually knows, conceals nothing, colours
+nothing, and leaves a perfectly fair impression of the truth, is
+perhaps the rarest of all the parties concerned in the administration
+of justice. No one understood this better than Williams;
+and his agents were, at that very moment, actively employed in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>endeavouring to persuade certain individuals that they knew a
+great deal more of the facts connected with the murders, than
+the truth would justify. This was not done openly or directly;
+not in a way to alarm the consciences or pride of those who were
+to be duped, but by the agency of hints, and suggestions, and
+plausible reasonings, and all the other obvious devices, by means
+of which the artful and unprincipled are enabled to act on the
+opinions of the credulous and inexperienced.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>While all these secret engines were at work in the streets of
+Biberry, the external machinery of justice was set in motion with
+the usual forms. Naked, but business-like, the blind goddess was
+invoked with what is termed “republican simplicity,” one of the
+great principles of which, in some men’s estimation, is to get the
+maximum of work at the minimum of cost. We are no advocates
+for the senseless parade and ruthless expenditure—ruthless, because
+extracted from the means of the poor—with which the
+governments of the old world have invested their dignity; and
+we believe that the reason of men may be confided in, in managing
+these matters, to a certain extent; though not to the
+extent that it would seem to be the fashion of the American
+theories, to be desirable. Wigs of all kinds, even when there is a
+deficiency of hair, we hold in utter detestation; and we shall
+maintain that no more absurd scheme of clothing the human
+countenance with terror was ever devised, than to clothe it with
+flax. Nevertheless, as comfort, decency and taste unite in recommending
+clothing of some sort or other, we do not see why
+the judicial functionary should not have his appropriate attire as
+well as the soldier, the sailor, or the priest. It does not necessarily
+follow that extravagances are to be imitated if we submit
+to this practice; though we incline to the opinion that a great
+deal of the nakedness of “republican simplicity,” which has got
+to be a sort of political idol in the land, has its origin in a spirit
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>that denounces the past as a species of moral sacrifice to the
+present time.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Let all this be as it may, it is quite certain that “republican
+simplicity”—the slang lever by means of which the artful move
+the government—has left the administration of justice among
+us, so far as externals are concerned, as naked as may be. Indeed,
+so much have the judges become exposed to sinister influences,
+by means of the intimacies with which they are invested
+by means of “republican simplicity,” that it has been found
+expedient to make a special provision against undue modes of
+approaching their ears, all of which would have been far more
+efficiently secured by doubling their salaries, making a respectable
+provision for old age in the way of pensions, and surrounding
+them with such forms as would keep the evil-disposed at a reasonable
+distance. Neither Timms nor “saucy Williams,” however,
+reasoned in this fashion. They were, in a high degree,
+practical men, and saw things as they are; not as they ought to
+be. Little was either troubled with theories, regrets, or principles.
+It was enough for each that he was familiar with the
+workings of the system under which he lived; and which he
+knew how to pervert in a way the most likely to effect his own
+purposes.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The reader may be surprised at the active pertinacity with
+which Williams pursued one on trial for her life; a class of persons
+with whom the bar usually professes to deal tenderly and in
+mercy. But the fact was that he had been specially retained by
+the next of kin, who had large expectations from the abstracted
+hoards of his aunt; and that the fashion of the day had enabled
+him to achieve such a <em>cent per cent</em> bargain with his client, as
+caused his own compensation altogether to depend on the measure
+of his success. Should Mary Monson be sentenced to the
+gallows, it was highly probable her revelations would put the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>wronged in the way of being righted, when this limb of the law
+would, in all probability, come in for a full share of the recovered
+gold. How different all this was from the motives and
+conduct of Dunscomb, the reader will readily perceive; for, while
+the profession in this country abounds with Williams’s and
+Timms’s, men of the highest tone of feeling, the fairest practice,
+and the clearest perceptions of what is right, are by no means
+strangers to the bar.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Thou hast already racked me with thy stay;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Therefore require me not to ask thee twice:</div>
+ <div class='line'>Reply at once to all. What is concluded?”</div>
+ <div class='line in28'><cite>Mourning Bride.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>During the interval between the occurrence of the scene in
+court that has just been related, and the appearance of Dunscomb
+at Biberry, the community was rapidly taking sides on the subject
+of the guilt or innocence of Mary Monson. The windows of the
+gaol were crowded all day; throngs collecting there to catch
+glimpses of the extraordinary female, who was rightly enough
+reported to be living in a species of luxury in so unusual a place,
+and who was known to play on an instrument that the popular
+mind was a good deal disposed to regard as sacred. As a matter
+of course, a hundred stories were in circulation, touching the
+character, history, sayings and doings of this remarkable person,
+that had no foundation whatever in truth; for it is an infirmity
+of human nature to circulate and place its belief in falsehoods of
+this sort; and more especially of human nature as it is exhibited
+in a country where care has been taken to stimulate the curiosity
+of the vulgar, without exactly placing them in a condition to appease
+its longings, either intelligently or in a very good taste.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This interest would have been manifested, in such a case, had
+there been no particular moving cause; but the secret practices
+of Williams and Timms greatly increased its intensity, and was
+bringing the population of Duke’s to a state of excitement that
+was very little favourable to an impartial administration of justice.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>Discussions had taken place at every corner, and in all the
+bar-rooms; and many were the alleged facts connected with the
+murders, which had their sole existence in rumour, that was adduced
+in the heat of argument, or to make out a supposititious
+case. All this time, Williams was either in court, attending
+closely to his different causes, or was seen passing between the
+court-house and the tavern, with bundles of papers under his
+arms, like a man absorbed in business. Timms played a very
+similar part, though <em>he</em> found leisure to hold divers conferences
+with several of his confidential agents. Testimony was his aim;
+and, half a dozen times, when he fancied himself on the point
+of establishing something new and important, the whole of the
+ingenious fabric he had reared came tumbling about his ears, in
+consequence of some radical defect in the foundation.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Such was the state of things on the evening of Wednesday,
+the day preceding that which had been set down for the trial,
+when the stage arrived bringing “’Squire Dunscomb,” his carpet-bags,
+his trunk, and his books. McBrain shortly after drove up
+in his own carriage; and Anna was soon in her mother’s arms.
+The excitement, so general in the place, had naturally enough
+extended to these females; and Mrs. McBrain and her daughter
+were soon closeted, talking over the affair of Mary Monson.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>About eight that evening, Dunscomb and Timms were busy,
+looking over minutes of testimony, briefs, and other written documents
+that were connected with the approaching trial. Mrs.
+Horton had reserved the best room in her house for this distinguished
+counsel; an apartment in a wing that was a good deal
+removed from the noise and bustle of a leading inn, during a
+circuit. Here Dunscomb had been duly installed, and here he
+early set up “his traps,” as he termed his flesh-brushes, sponges,
+briefs, and calfskin-covered volumes. Two tallow candles threw
+a dim, lawyer-like light on the scene; while unrolled paper-curtains
+shut out as much of night as such an imperfect screen
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>would exclude. The odour of segars—excellent Havannas, by
+the way—was fragrant in the place; and one of the little fountains
+of smoke was stuck knowingly in a corner of the eminent
+counsel’s mouth, while Timms had garnished his skinny lips
+with the short stump of a pipe. Neither said anything; one of
+the parties presenting documents that the other read in silence.
+Such was the state of matters, when a slight tap at the door was
+succeeded by the unexpected appearance of “saucy Williams.”
+Timms started, gathered together all his papers with the utmost
+care, and awaited the explanation of this unlooked-for visit with
+the most lively curiosity. Dunscomb, on the other hand, received
+his guest with urbanity, and like one who felt that the wrangling
+of the bar, in which, by the way, he had too much self-respect
+and good temper to indulge, had no necessary connection with
+the courtesies of private life.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams had scarcely a claim superior to those of Timms, to
+be considered a gentleman; though he had the advantage of
+having been what is termed liberally educated—a phrase of very
+doubtful import, when put to the test of old-fashioned notions on
+such subjects. In manners, he had the defects, and we may add
+the merits, of the school in which he had been educated. All
+that has been said of Timms on this subject, in the way of censure,
+was equally applicable to Williams; but the last possessed
+a self-command, an admirable reliance on his own qualities, which
+would have fitted him, as regards this one quality, to be an emperor.
+Foreigners wonder at the self-possession of Americans in
+the presence of the great; and it is really one of the merits of the
+institutions that it causes every person to feel that he is a man,
+and entitled to receive the treatment due to a being so high in
+the scale of earthly creations. It is true, that this feeling often
+degenerates into a vulgar and over-sensitive jealousy, frequently
+rendering its possessor exacting and ridiculous; but, on the
+whole, the effect is manly, not to say ennobling.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>Now, Williams was self-possessed by nature, as well as by
+association and education. Though keenly alive to the differences
+and chances of fortune, he never succumbed to mere rank and
+wealth. Intriguing by disposition, not to say by education, he
+could affect a deference he did not feel; but, apart from the positive
+consequences of power, he was not to be daunted by the
+presence of the most magnificent sovereign who ever <a id='corr298.7'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='reigned'>reigned.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_298.7'><ins class='correction' title='reigned'>reigned.</ins></a></span>
+No wonder, then, that he felt quite at home in the company of
+his present host; though fully aware that he was one of the
+leading members of the New York bar. As a proof of this independence
+may be cited the fact that he had no sooner paid his
+salutations and been invited to be seated, than he deliberately
+selected a segar from the open box of Dunscomb, lighted it, took
+a chair, raised one leg coolly on the corner of a table, and began
+to smoke.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The calendar is a little crowded,” observed this free-and-easy
+visiter, “and is likely to carry us over into the middle of next
+week. Are you retained in Daniels against Fireman’s Insurance?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am not—a brief was offered by the plaintiff, but I declined
+taking it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A little conscientious, I suppose. Well, I leave all the sin
+of my suits on the shoulders of my clients. It is bad enough to
+<em>listen</em> to their griefs, without being called on to <em>smart</em> for them.
+I have heard you are in Cogswell against Davidson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In that cause I have been retained. I may as well say, at
+once, we intend to move it on.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s of no great moment—if you beat us at the circuit, our
+turn will come on execution.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe, Mr. Williams, your clients have a knack at gaining
+the day in that mode. It is of no great interest to me, however,
+as I rarely take the management of a cause after it quits the
+courts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>“How do you like the Code, brother Dunscomb?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Damnable, sir. I am too old, in the first place, to like
+change. Then change from bad to worse is adding folly to imbecility.
+The Common Law practice had its faults, I allow; but
+this new system has no merits.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not go as far as that; and I rather begin to like the
+new plan of remuneration. We are nothing out of pocket, and
+sometimes are a handsome sum in. You defend Mary Monson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms felt assured that his old antagonist had now reached
+the case that had really brought him to the room. He fidgeted,
+looked eagerly round to see that no stray paper could fall beneath
+the hawk-like eye of the other party, and then sat in comparative
+composure, waiting the result.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do,” Dunscomb quietly replied; “and I shall do it <span lang="it"><i>con
+amore</i></span>—I suppose you know what that means, Mr. Williams?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A sarcastic smile passed over the steeled countenance of the
+other, his appearance being literally sardonic for an instant.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I presume I do. We know enough Latin in Duke’s to get
+along with such a quotation; though our friend Timms here despises
+the classics. <span lang="it">‘Con amore’</span> means, in this instance, a ‘lover’s
+zeal,’ I suppose; for they tell me that all who approach the
+criminal submits to her power to charm.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The <em>accused</em>, if you please,” put in the opposing attorney;
+“but no <em>criminal</em>, until the word ‘<em>guilty</em>’ has been pronounced.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am convicted. They say you are to be the happy man,
+Timms, in the event of an acquittal. It is reported all over the
+county, that you are to become Mr. Monson as a reward for your
+services; and if half that I hear be true, you will deserve her,
+with a good estate in the bargain.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here Williams laughed heartily at his own wit; but Dunscomb
+looked grave, while his associate counsel looked angry. In
+point of fact the nail had been hit on the head; and consciousness
+lighted the spirit within, with its calm, mild glow. The
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>senior counsel was too proud, and too dignified, to make any reply;
+but Timms was troubled with no such feeling.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If there are any such rumours in old Duke’s,” retorted the
+last, “it will not need mesmerism to discover their author. In
+my opinion, the people ought to carry on their suits in a spirit
+of liberality and justice; and not in a vindictive, malicious temper.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We are all of the same way of thinking,” answered Williams,
+with a sneer. “I consider it liberal to give you a handsome
+young woman with a full purse; though no one can say
+how, or by whom, it has been filled. By the way, Mr. Dunscomb,
+I am instructed to make a proposal to you; and as Timms is in
+the court, this may be as good a moment as another to present it
+for consideration. My offer is from the nephew, next of kin, and
+sole heir of the late Peter Goodwin; by whom, as you probably
+know, I am retained. This gentleman is well assured that his
+deceased relatives had a large sum in gold by them, at the time
+of the murders——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No verdict has yet shown that there has been any murders
+at all,” interrupted Timms.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We have the verdict of the inquest, begging your pardon,
+brother Timms—that is something, surely; though not enough,
+quite likely, to convince your mind. But, to proceed with my
+proposition:—My client is well assured that such a secret fund
+existed. He also knows that <em>your</em> client, gentlemen, is flush of
+money, and money in gold coins that correspond with many pieces
+that have been seen by different individuals in the possession of
+our aunt——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, eagles and half-eagles,” interrupted Timms—“a resemblance
+that comes from the stamp of the mint.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Go on with your proposition, Mr. Williams”—said Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We offer to withdraw all our extra counsel, myself included,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>and to leave the case altogether with the State, which is very
+much the same thing as an acquittal; provided you will <em>return</em> to
+us five thousand dollars in this gold coin. Not <em>pay</em>, for that
+might be compounding a felony; but <em>return</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There could be no compounding a felony, if the indictment
+be not quashed, but traversed,” said the senior counsel for the
+defence.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very true; but we prefer the word ‘return.’ That leaves
+everything clear, and will enable us to face the county. Our
+object is to get our <em>rights</em>—let the State take care of its justice
+for itself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You can hardly expect that such a proposition should be
+accepted, Williams?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am not so sure of that, Timms; life is sweeter than money
+even. I should like to hear the answer of your associate, however.
+You, I can see, have no intention of lessening the marriage
+portion, if it can be helped.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Such side-hits were so common in court, as between these
+worthies, that neither thought much of them out of court. But
+Williams gave a signal proof of the acuteness of his observation,
+when he expressed a wish to know in what light his proposal was
+viewed by Dunscomb. That learned gentleman evidently paid
+more respect to the offer than had been manifested by his associate;
+and now sat silently ruminating on its nature. Thus
+directly appealed to, he felt the necessity of giving some sort of
+an answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have come expressly to make this proposition to us,
+Mr. Williams?” Dunscomb demanded.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To be frank with you, sir, such is the main object of my
+visit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Of course it is sanctioned by your client, and you speak by
+authority?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is fully sanctioned by my client, who would greatly prefer
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>the plan; and I act directly by his written instructions. Nothing
+short of these would induce me to make the proposition.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very well, sir. Will an answer by ten o’clock this evening
+meet your views?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perfectly so. An answer at any time between this and the
+sitting of the court to-morrow morning, will fully meet our views.
+The terms, however, cannot be diminished. Owing to the shortness
+of the time, it may be well to understand <em>that</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then, Mr. Williams, I ask a little time for reflection and
+consultation. We may meet again to-night.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The other assented, rose, coolly helped himself to another
+segar, and had got as far as the door, when an expressive gesture
+from Timms induced him to pause.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Let us understand each other,” said the last, with emphasis.
+“Is this a truce, with a complete cessation of hostilities;
+or is it only a negotiation to be carried on in the midst of
+war?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hardly comprehend your meaning, Mr. Timms. The question
+is simply one of taking certain forces—allied forces, they
+may be called—from the field, and leaving you to contend only
+with the main enemy. There need be nothing said of a truce,
+since nothing further can be done until the court opens.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That may do very well, Williams, for those that haven’t
+practised in Duke’s as long as myself; but it will not do for me.
+There is an army of reporters here, at this moment; and I am
+afraid that the allies of whom you speak have whole corps of
+skirmishers.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams maintained a countenance so unmoved that even the
+judicious Timms was a little shaken; while Dunscomb, who had
+all the reluctance of a gentleman to believe in an act of meanness,
+felt outraged by his associate’s suspicions.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Come, come, Mr. Timms,” the last exclaimed, “I beg we
+may have no more of this. Mr. Williams has come with a proposition
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>worthy of our consideration; let us meet it in the spirit
+in which it is offered.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes,” repeated Williams, with a look that might well have
+explained his <em>sobriquet</em> of ‘saucy;’ <a id='corr303.3'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='yes'>“yes</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_303.3'><ins class='correction' title='yes'>“yes</ins></a></span>, in the spirit in which it
+is offered. What do you say to that, Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That I shall manage the defence precisely as if no such proposition
+had been made, or any negotiation accepted. You can
+do the same for the prosecution.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Agreed!” Williams rejoined, making a sweeping gesture
+with his hand, and immediately quitting the room.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb was silent for a minute. A thread of smoke arose
+from the end of his segar; but the volume no longer poured from
+between his lips. He was ruminating too intensely even to
+smoke. Rising suddenly, he took his hat, and motioned towards
+the door.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Timms, we must go to the gaol,” he said; “Mary Monson
+must be spoken to at once.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If Williams had made his proposition ten days ago, there
+might be some use in listening to it,” returned the junior, following
+the senior counsel from the room, carrying all the papers in
+the cause under an arm; “but, now that all the mischief is done,
+it would be throwing away five thousand dollars to listen to his
+proposition.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We will see—we will see,” answered the other, hurrying
+down stairs—“what means the rumpus in that room, Timms?
+Mrs. Horton has not treated me well, to place a troublesome
+neighbour so near me. I shall stop and tell her as much, as we
+go through the hall.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You had better not, ’Squire. We want all our friends just
+now; and a sharp word might cause us to lose this woman, who
+has a devil of a tongue. She tells me that a crazy man was
+brought here privately; and, being well paid for it, she has consented
+to give him what she calls her ‘drunkard’s parlour,’ until
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>the court has settled his affair. His room, like your own, is so
+much out of the way, that the poor fellow gives very little trouble
+to the great body of the boarders.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, very little trouble to <em>you</em>, and the rest of you, in the
+main building; but a great deal to me. I shall speak to <a id='corr304.5'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mrs'>Mrs.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_304.5'><ins class='correction' title='Mrs'>Mrs.</ins></a></span>
+Horton on the subject, as we pass out.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Better not, ’Squire. The woman is our friend now, I know;
+but a warm word may turn her to the right-about.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is probable Dunscomb was influenced by his companion;
+for he left the house without putting his threat in execution. In
+a few minutes he and Timms were at the gaol. As counsel could
+not well be refused admission to their client on the eve of trial,
+the two lawyers were admitted to the gallery within the outer
+door that has been so often mentioned. Of course, Mary Monson
+was notified of the visit; and she received them with Anna Updyke,
+the good, gentle, considerate Anna, who was ever disposed
+to help the weak and to console the unhappy, at her side. Dunscomb
+had no notion that the intimacy had grown to this head;
+but when he came to reflect that one of the parties was to be
+tried for her life next day, he was disposed to overlook the manifest
+indiscretion of his old favourite in being in such a place.
+Mrs. McBrain’s presence released him from all responsibility;
+and he returned the warm pressure of Anna’s hand in kindness,
+if not with positive approbation. As for the girl herself, the
+very sight of “Uncle Tom,” as she had so long been accustomed
+to call the counsellor, cheered her heart, and raised new hopes in
+behalf of her friend.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In a few clear, pointed words, Dunscomb let the motive of his
+visit be known. There was little time to throw away, and he
+went directly at his object, stating everything succinctly, but in
+the most intelligible manner. Nothing could have been more
+calm than the manner in which Mary Monson listened to his
+statement; her deportment being as steady as that of one sitting
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>in judgment herself, rather than that of a person whose own fate
+was involved in the issue.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is a large sum to raise in so short a time,” continued the
+kind-hearted Dunscomb; “but I deem the proposition so important
+to your interest, that, rather than lose this advantage, I
+would not hesitate about advancing the money myself, should
+you be unprepared for so heavy a demand.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As respects the money, Mr. Dunscomb,” returned the fair
+prisoner, in the most easy and natural manner, “<em>that</em> need give
+us no concern. By sending a confidential messenger to town—Mr.
+John Wilmeter, for instance”—here Anna pressed less
+closely to her friend’s side—“it would be very easy to have five
+hundred eagles or a thousand half-eagles here, by breakfast-time
+to-morrow. It is not on account of any such difficulty that I
+hesitate a moment. What I dislike is the injustice of the thing.
+I have never touched a cent of poor Mrs. Goodwin’s hoard; and
+it would be false to admit that I am <em>returning</em> that which I never
+received.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We must not be particular, ma’am, on immaterial points,
+when there is so much at stake.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It may be immaterial whether I pay money under one form
+or another, Mr. Dunscomb; but it cannot be immaterial to my
+future standing, whether I am acquitted in the teeth of this Mr.
+Williams’s opposition, or under favour of his purchase.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Acquitted! Our case is not absolutely clear, Miss Monson—it
+is my duty to tell you as much!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understand such to be the opinion of both Mr. Timms and
+yourself, sir; I like the candour of your conduct, but am not
+converted to your way of thinking. I shall be acquitted, gentlemen—yes,
+honourably, triumphantly acquitted; and I cannot
+consent to lessen the impression of such a termination to my
+affair, by putting myself in the way of being even suspected of a
+collusion with a man like this saucy Williams. It is far better
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>to meet him openly, and to defy him to do his worst. Perhaps
+some such trial, followed by complete success, will be necessary
+to my future happiness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna now pressed nearer to the side of her friend; passing an
+arm, unconsciously to herself, around her waist. As for Dunscomb,
+he gazed at the handsome prisoner in a sort of stupefied
+wonder. The place, the hour, the business of the succeeding
+day, and all the accessories of the scene, had an effect to increase
+the confusion of his mind, and, for the moment, to call in question
+the fidelity of his senses. As he gazed at the prison-like
+aspect of the gallery, his eye fell on the countenance of Marie
+Moulin, and rested there in surprise for half a minute. The
+Swiss maid was looking earnestly at her mistress, with an expression
+of concern and of care so intense, that it caused the
+counsellor to search for their cause. For the first time it flashed
+on his mind that Mary Monson might be a lunatic, and that the
+defence so often set up in capital cases as to weary the common
+mind, might be rendered justly available in this particular instance.
+The whole conduct of this serving-woman had been so
+singular; the deportment of Mary Monson herself was so much
+out of the ordinary rules; and the adhesion of Anna Updyke,
+a girl of singular prudence of conduct, notwithstanding her disposition
+to enthusiasm, so marked, that the inference was far
+from unnatural. Nevertheless, Mary Monson had never looked
+more calm, more intellectual; never manifested more of a mien
+of high intelligence, than at that very instant. The singular
+illumination of the countenance to which we have had occasion
+already to allude, was conspicuous, but it was benignant and
+quiet; and the flush of the cheeks added lustre to her eyes.
+Then the sentiments expressed were just and noble, free from
+the cunning and mendacity of a maniac; and such as any man
+might be proud to have the wife of his bosom entertain. All
+these considerations quickly chased the rising distrust from Dunscomb’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>mind, and his thoughts reverted to the business that had
+brought him there.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are the best judge, ma’am, of what will most contribute
+to your happiness,” rejoined the counsellor, after a brief pause.
+“In the ignorance in which we are kept of the past, I might
+well add, the <em>only</em> judge; though it is possible that your female
+companions know more, in this respect, than your legal advisers.
+It is proper I should say, once more, and probably for the last
+time, that your case will be greatly prejudiced unless you enable
+us to dwell on your past life freely and truly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am accused of murdering an unoffending female and her
+husband; of setting fire to the dwelling, and of robbing them of
+their gold. These are accusations that can properly be answered
+only by a complete acquittal, after a solemn investigation. No
+half-way measures will do. I must be found not guilty, or a blot
+rests on my character for life. My position is singular—I had
+almost said cruel—in some respects owing to my own wilfulness——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here Anna Updyke pressed closer to her friend’s side, as if
+she would defend her against these self-accusations; while Marie
+Moulin dropped her needle, and listened with the liveliest
+curiosity.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In <em>many</em> respects, perhaps,” continued Mary, after a short
+pause, “and I must take the consequences. Wilfulness has ever
+been my greatest enemy. It has been fed by perfect independence
+and too much money. I doubt if it be good for woman to
+be thus tried. We were created for dependence, Mr. Dunscomb;
+dependence on our fathers, on our brothers, and perhaps on our
+husbands”—here there was another pause; and the cheeks of
+the fair speaker flushed, while her eyes became brilliant to <a id='corr307.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='light'>light.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_307.29'><ins class='correction' title='light'>light.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<em>Perhaps!</em>” repeated the counsellor, with solemn emphasis.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know that men think differently from us on this subject——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>“From <em>us</em>—do you desire me to believe that most women
+wish to be independent of their husbands? Ask the young
+woman at your side, if <em>that</em> be her feeling of the duties of her
+sex.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna dropped her head on her bosom, and blushed scarlet.
+In all her day-dreams of happiness with John Wilmeter, the very
+reverse of the feeling now alluded to, had been uppermost in her
+mind; and to her nothing had ever seemed half as sweet as the
+picture of leaning on him for support, guidance, authority, and
+advice. The thought of independence would have been painful
+to her; for a principle of nature, the instinct of her sex, taught
+her that the part of woman was “to love, honour, and obey.” As
+for Mary Monson, she quailed a little before the severe eye of
+Dunscomb; but education, the accidents of life, and possibly a
+secret principle of her peculiar temperament, united to stimulate
+her to maintain her original ground.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know not what may be the particular notions of Miss Updyke,”
+returned this singular being, “but I can feel my own
+longings. They are all for independence. Men have not dealt
+fairly by women. Possessing the power, they have made all the
+laws, fashioned all the opinions of the world, in their own favour.
+Let a woman err, and she can never rise from her fall; while
+men live with impunity in the midst of their guilt. If a woman
+think differently from those around her, she is expected to conceal
+her opinions, in order to receive those of her masters. Even
+in the worship of God, the highest and most precious of all our
+duties, she is expected to play a secondary part, and act as if the
+Christian Faith favoured the sentiment of another, which teaches
+that women have no souls.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All this is as old as the repinings of a very treacherous nature,
+young lady,” answered Dunscomb, coolly; “and I have
+often heard it before. It is not surprising, however, that a young,
+handsome, highly-educated, and I presume rich, person of your
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>sex, should be seduced by notions seemingly so attractive, and
+long for what she will be apt to term the emancipation of her
+sex. This is an age of emancipation; prudent grey-headed men
+become deluded, and exhibit their folly by succumbing to a wild
+and exceedingly silly philanthropical hurrah! Even religion is
+emancipated! There are churches, it is true; but they exist as
+appendages of society, instead of being divine institutions, established
+for the secret purposes of unerring wisdom; and we hear
+men openly commending this or that ecclesiastical organization,
+because it has more or less of the savour of republicanism. But
+one new dogma remains to be advanced—that the government
+of the universe is democratical—in which the ‘music of the
+spheres’ is a popular song; and the disappearance of a world a
+matter to be referred to the people in their primary capacity.
+Among other absurdities of the hour is a new law, giving to
+married women the control of their property, and drawing a line
+of covetousness across the bolster of every marriage bed in the
+State!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Surely, Mr. Dunscomb, a man of your integrity, character,
+manliness, and principles, would defend the weaker sex in the
+maintenance of its rights against prodigality, tyranny, and neglect!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“These are so many words, my dear ma’am, and are totally
+without meaning, when thoroughly sifted. God created woman
+to be a help-meet to man—to comfort, solace, and aid him in his
+pursuit after worldly happiness; but always in a dependent relation.
+The marriage condition, viewed in its every-day aspect, has
+sufficient causes of disagreement, without drawing in this of property.
+One of the dearest and nearest of its ties, indeed, that
+of a perfect identification of interests, is at once cut off by this
+foolish, not to say wicked attempt to light the torch of contention
+in every household. It were better to teach our women not to
+throw themselves away on men who cannot be trusted; to inculcate
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>the necessity of not marrying in haste to repent at leisure,
+than to tinker the old, venerable, and long-tried usages of our
+fathers, by crotchets that come far more from the feverish audacity
+of ignorance, than from philosophy or wisdom. Why, unless
+the courts interpose their prudence to rectify the blunders of the
+legislature, as they have already done a hundred times, the
+labourer’s wife may have her action against her husband for the
+earthen bowl he has broken; and the man may be sued by the
+wife for rent! The happiness of every home is hourly put in
+jeopardy, in order that, now and then, a wife may be saved from
+the courses of a speculator or a spendthrift.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Might not this have been done before, uncle Tom, by means
+of settlements?” asked Anna, with interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly; and that it is which renders all this silly quackery
+so much the worse. In those cases in which the magnitude of
+the stake might seem to demand extraordinary care, the means
+already existed for providing all useful safeguards; and any new
+legislation was quite unnecessary. This very law will produce
+twenty-fold more unhappiness in families, than it will prevent of
+misery, by setting up distinct, and often conflicting interests,
+among those who ought to live as ‘bone of their bone, and flesh
+of their <a id='corr310.22'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='flesh.”'>flesh.’”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_310.22'><ins class='correction' title='flesh.”'>flesh.’”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You do not give to woman her proper place in society, Mr.
+Dunscomb,” returned Mary Monson, haughtily; “your comments
+are those of a bachelor. I have heard of a certain Miss
+Millington, who once had an interest with you, and who, if living,
+would have taught you juster sentiments on this subject.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb turned as white as a sheet; his hand and lip quivered;
+and all desire to continue the discourse suddenly left him.
+The gentle Anna, ever attentive to his wishes and ailings, stole
+to his side, silently offering a glass of water. She had seen this
+agitation before, and knew there was a leaf in “Uncle Tom’s”
+history that he did not wish every vulgar eye to read.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>As for Mary Monson, she went into her cell, like one who declined
+any further communication with her counsel. Timms was
+struck with her lofty and decided manner; but stood too much
+in awe of her, to interpose a remonstrance. After a few minutes
+taken by Dunscomb to regain his self-command, and a brief consultation
+together, the two lawyers quitted the prison. All this
+time, the accused remained in her cell, in resentful silence,
+closely and anxiously watched by the searching eye of her senior
+attendant.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id006'>
+<img src='images/i_315.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Methinks, if, as I guess, the fault’s but small,</div>
+ <div class='line'>It might be pardoned.”</div>
+ <div class='line in30'><cite>The Orphan.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>Perhaps no surer test of high principles, as it is certain no
+more accurate test of high breeding can be found, than a distaste
+for injurious gossip. In woman, subject as she is unquestionably
+by her education, habits, and active curiosity, to the influence of
+this vice, its existence is deplorable, leading to a thousand wrongs,
+among the chief of which is a false appreciation of ourselves;
+but, when men submit to so vile a propensity, they become contemptible,
+as well as wicked. As a result of long observation,
+we should say that those who are most obnoxious to the just
+condemnation of the world, are the most addicted to finding faults
+in others; and it is only the comparatively good, who are so because
+they are humble, that abstain from meddling and dealing
+in scandal.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>When one reflects on the great amount of injustice that is thus
+inflicted, without even the most remote hope of reparation, how
+far a loose, ill-considered and ignorant remark will float on the
+tongues of the idle, how much unmerited misery is oftentimes
+entailed by such unweighed assertions and opinions, and how
+small is the return of benefit in any form whatever, it would
+almost appear a necessary moral consequence that the world, by
+general consent, would determine to eradicate so pernicious an
+evil, in the common interest of mankind. That it does not, is
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>probably owing to the power that is still left in the hands of the
+Father of Sin, by the Infinite Wisdom that has seen fit to place
+us in this condition of trial. The parent of all lies, gossip, is
+one of the most familiar of the means he employs to put his
+falsehoods in circulation.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This vice is heartless and dangerous when confined to its natural
+limits, the circles of society; but, when it invades the outer walks
+of life, and, most of all, when it gets mixed up with the administration
+of justice, it becomes a tyrant as ruthless and injurious
+in its way, as he who fiddled while Rome was in flames. We
+have no desire to exaggerate the evils of the state of society in
+which we live; but an honest regard to truth will, we think, induce
+every observant man to lament the manner in which this
+power, under the guise of popular opinion, penetrates into all the
+avenues of the courts, corrupting, perverting, and often destroying,
+the healthful action of their systems.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Biberry furnished a clear example of the truth of these remarks
+on the morning of the day on which Mary Monson was to be tried.
+The gaol-window had its crowd of course; and though the disposition
+of curtains, and other similar means of concealment, completely
+baffled vulgar curiosity, they could not cloak the resentful
+feelings to which this reserve gave birth. Most of those who
+were drawn thither belonged to a class who fancied it was not
+affliction enough to be accused of two of the highest crimes
+known to the laws; but that to this grievous misfortune should be
+added a submission to the stare of the multitude. It was the people’s
+laws the accused was supposed to have disregarded; and it was
+their privilege to anticipate punishment, by insult.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why don’t she show herself, and let the public look on her?”
+demanded one curious old man, whose head had whitened under
+a steadily increasing misconception of what the rights of this
+public were. “I’ve seen murderers afore now, and ain’t a bit
+afeard on ’em, if they be well ironed and look’d a’ter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>This sally produced a heartless laugh; for, sooth to say, where
+<em>one</em> feels, under such circumstances, as reason, and justice, and
+revelation would tell them to feel, ten feel as the demons prompt.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You cannot expect that a lady of fashion, who plays on the
+harp and talks French, will show her pretty face to be gazed at
+by common folk,” rejoined a shabby-genteel sort of personage,
+out of whose waistcoat-pocket obtruded the leaves of a small note-book,
+and the end of a gold pen. This man was a reporter, rendered
+malignant by meeting with opposition to his views of
+imagining that the universe was created to furnish paragraphs for
+newspapers. He was a half-educated European, who pronounced
+all his words in a sort of boarding-school dialect, as if abbreviation
+offended a taste ‘sicken’d over by learning.’</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Another laugh succeeded this supercilious sneer; and three or
+four lads, half-grown and clamorous, called aloud the name of
+“Mary Monson,” demanding that she should show herself. At
+that moment the accused was on her knees, with Anna Updyke
+at her side, praying for that support which, as the crisis arrived,
+she found to be more and more necessary!</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Changing from the scene to the open street, we find a pettifogger,
+one secretly prompted by Williams, spreading a report
+that had its origin no one knew where, but which was gradually
+finding its way to the ears of half the population of Duke’s, exciting
+prejudice and inflicting wrong.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s the curi’stest story I ever heard,” said Sam Tongue, as
+the pettifogger was usually styled, though his real name was
+Hubbs; “and one so hard to believe, that, though I tell it, I call
+on no man to believe it. You see, gentlemen”—the little group
+around him was composed of suitors, witnesses, jurors, grand-jurors,
+and others of a stamp that usually mark these several
+classes of men—“that the account now is, that this Mary Monson
+was sent abroad for her schoolin’ when only ten years old;
+and that she staid in the old countries long enough to l’arn to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>play the harp, and other deviltries of the same natur’. It’s a
+misfortin’, as I say, for any young woman to be sent out of
+Ameriky for an edication. Edication, as everybody knows, is the
+great glory of <em>our</em> country; and a body would think that what
+can’t be l’arn’t <em>here</em>, isn’t worth knowin’.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This sentiment was well received, as would be any opinion
+that asserted American superiority, with that particular class of
+listeners. Eye turned to eye, nod answered nod, and a murmur
+expressive of approbation passed through the little crowd.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But there was no great harm in that,” put in a person named
+Hicks, who was accustomed to connect consequences with their
+causes, and to trace causes down to their consequences. “Anybody
+might have been edicated in France as well as Mary Monson.
+<em>That</em> will hardly tell ag’in her on the trial.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I didn’t say it would,” answered Sam Tongue; “though it’s
+gin’rally conceded that France is no country for religion or true
+freedom. Give me religion and freedom, say I; a body can get
+along with bad crops, or disapp’intments in gin’ral, so long as he
+has plenty of religion and plenty of freedom.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Another murmur, another movement in the group, and other
+nods denoted the spirit in which this was received too.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All this don’t make ag’in Mary Monson; ’specially as you
+say she was sent abroad so young. It wasn’t her fault if her
+parents——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She had no parents—there’s the great mystery of her case.
+Never had, so far as can be discovered. A gal without parents,
+without fri’nds of any sort, is edicated in a foreign land, l’arns to
+speak foreign tongues, plays on foreign music, and comes home
+a’ter she’s grown up, with her pockets as full as if she’d been
+to Californy and met a vein; and no one can tell where it all
+come from!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, <em>that</em> won’t tell ag’in her, ne’ther,” rejoined Hicks, who
+had now defended the accused so much that he began to take an
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>interest in her acquittal. “Evidence must be direct, and have a
+p’int, to tell ag’in man or woman. As for Californy, it’s made
+lawful by treaty, if Congress will only let it alone.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know that as well as the best lawyer in Duke’s; but <em>character</em>
+can tell ag’in an accused, as is very likely to be shown in
+the Oyer and Tarminer of this day. Character counts, let me
+tell you, when the facts get a little confused; and this is just
+what I was about to say. Mary Monson has money; where does
+it come from?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Those that think her guilty say that it comes from poor Mrs.
+Goodwin’s stockin’,” returned Hicks, with a laugh; “but, for
+my part, I’ve <em>seen</em> that stockin’, and am satisfied it didn’t hold
+five hundred dollars, if it did four.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here the reporter out with his notes, scribbling away for some
+time. That evening a paragraph, a little altered to give it point
+and interest, appeared in an evening paper, in which the conflicting
+statements of Tongue and Hicks were so presented, that
+neither of these worthies could have recognised his own child.
+That paper was in Biberry next morning, and had no inconsiderable
+influence, ultimately, on the fortunes of the accused.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In the bar-room of Mrs. Horton, the discussion was also lively
+and wily on this same subject. As this was a place much frequented
+by the jurors, the agents of Timms and Williams were
+very numerous in and around that house. The reader is not to
+suppose that these men admitted directly to themselves even, the
+true character of the rascally business in which they were engaged;
+for their employers were much too shrewd not to cover,
+to a certain degree, the deformity of their own acts. One set
+had been told that they were favouring justice, bringing down
+aristocratic pride to the level of the rights of the mass, demonstrating
+that this was a free country, by one of the very vilest
+procedures that ever polluted the fountains of justice at their
+very source. On the other hand, the agents of Timms had been
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>persuaded that they were working in behalf of a persecuted and
+injured woman, who was pressed upon by the well-known avarice
+of the nephew of the Goodwins, and who was in danger of becoming
+the victim of a chain of extraordinary occurrences that
+had thrown her into the meshes of the law. It is true, this
+reasoning was backed by liberal gifts; which, however, were made
+to assume the aspect of compensation fairly earned; for the biggest
+villain going derives a certain degree of satisfaction in persuading
+himself that he is acting under the influence of motives to which
+he is, in truth, a stranger. The homage which vice pays to virtue
+is on a much more extended scale than is commonly supposed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams’s men had much the best of it with the mass. They
+addressed themselves to prejudices as wide as the dominion of
+man; and a certain personal zeal was mingled with their cupidity.
+Then they had, by far, the easiest task. He who merely aids the
+evil principles of our nature, provided he conceal the cloven foot,
+is much more sure of finding willing listeners than he who looks
+for support in the good. A very unusual sort of story was circulated
+in this bar-room at the expense of the accused, and which
+carried with it more credit than common, in consequence of its
+being so much out of the beaten track of events as to seem to
+set invention at defiance.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson was said to be an heiress, well connected, and
+well educated—or, as these three very material circumstances
+were stated by the Williams’ men—“well to do herself, of friends
+well to do, and of excellent schooling.” She had been married
+to a person of equal position in society, wealth and character, but
+many years her senior—too many, the story went, considering
+her own time of life; for a great difference, when one of the parties
+is youthful, is apt to tax the tastes too severely—and that
+connection had not proved happy. It had been formed abroad,
+and more on foreign than on American principles; the bridegroom
+being a Frenchman. It was what is called a <em>mariage de raison</em>,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>made through the agency of friends and executors, rather than
+through the sympathies and feelings that should alone bring man
+and woman together in this, the closest union known to human
+beings. After a year of married life abroad, the unmatched
+couple had come to America, where the wife possessed a very
+ample fortune. This estate the recently enacted laws gave solely
+and absolutely to herself; and it soon became a source of dissension
+between man and wife. The husband, quite naturally, considered
+himself entitled to advise and direct, and, in some measure,
+to control, while the affluent, youthful, and pretty wife, was indisposed
+to yield any of the independence she so much prized,
+but which, in sooth, was asserted in the very teeth of one of the
+most salutary laws of nature. In consequence of this very different
+manner of viewing the marriage relation, a coolness ensued,
+which was shortly followed by the disappearance of the wife.
+This wife was Mary Monson, who had secreted herself in the
+retired dwelling of the Goodwins, while the hired agents of her
+husband were running up and down the land in search of the
+fugitive in places of resort. To this account, so strange, and yet
+in many respects so natural, it was added that a vein of occult
+madness existed in the lady’s family; and it was suggested that,
+as so much of her conduct as was out of the ordinary course
+might be traced to this malady, so was it also possible that the
+terrible incidents of the fire and the deaths were to be imputed
+to the same deep affliction.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We are far from saying that any rumour expressed in the
+terms we have used, was circulating in Mrs. Horton’s bar-room;
+but one that contained all their essentials was. It is one of the
+curious effects of the upward tendency of truth that almost every
+effort to conceal it altogether fails; and this at the very time
+when idle and heartless gossip is filling the world with lies. The
+tongue does a thousand times more evil than the sword; destroys
+more happiness, inflicts more incurable wounds, leaves deeper
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>and more indelible scars. Truth is rarely met with unalloyed by
+falsehood.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c015'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“This or that unmix’d, no mortal e’er shall find”—</div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c014'>Was the judgment of Pope a century since; nor has all the
+boasted progress of these later times induced a change. It is
+remarkable that a country which seems honestly devoted to improvement
+of every sort, that has a feverish desire to take the
+lead in the warfare against all sorts and species of falsehood,
+gives not the slightest heed to the necessity of keeping the
+channels of intelligence <em>pure</em>, as well as <em>open</em>! Such is the fact;
+and it is a melancholy but a just admission to acknowledge that
+with all the means of publicity preserved by America, there is
+no country in which it is more difficult to get unadulterated truth
+impressed on the common mind. The same wire that transmits
+a true account of the price of cotton from Halifax to New Orleans,
+carries a spark that imparts one that is false. The two
+arrive together; and it is not until each has done its work that
+the real fact is ascertained.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Notwithstanding these undoubted obstacles to the circulation
+of unalloyed truth, that upward tendency to which we have
+alluded occasionally brings out clear and strong rays of the divine
+quality, that illumine the moral darkness on which they shine,
+as the sun touches the verge of the thunder-cloud. It is in this
+way that an occasional report is heard, coming from no one
+knows where; originating with, no one knows whom; circulating
+in a sort of under-current beneath the torrents of falsehood, that
+is singularly, if it be not absolutely correct.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Of this character was the strange rumour that found its way
+into Biberry on the morning of Mary Monson’s trial, touching
+the history of that mysterious young woman’s past life. Wilmeter
+heard it, first, with a pang of disappointment, though Anna had
+nearly regained her power in his heart; and this pang was immediately
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>succeeded by unbounded surprise. He told the tale to
+Millington; and together they endeavoured to trace the report
+to something like its source. All efforts of this nature were in
+vain. One had heard the story from another; but no one could
+say whence it came originally. The young men gave the pursuit
+up as useless, and proceeded together towards the room of Timms,
+where they knew Dunscomb was to be found, just at that time.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is remarkable that a story of this nature should be in such
+general circulation,” said John, “and no one be able to tell who
+brought it to Biberry. Parts of it seem extravagant. Do they
+not strike you so, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There is nothing too extravagant for some women to do,”
+answered Millington, thoughtfully. “Now, on such a person as
+Sarah, or even on Anna Updyke, some calculations might be
+made—certain calculations, I might say; but, there are women,
+Jack, on whom one can no more depend, than on the constancy
+of the winds.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I admire your—‘even on Anna Updyke!’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you not agree with me?” returned the unobservant Millington.
+“I have always considered Sarah’s friend as a particularly
+reliable and safe sort of <a id='corr320.21'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='person.'>person.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_320.21'><ins class='correction' title='person.'>person.”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Even on Anna Updyke!—and a particularly reliable and
+safe sort of person!—You have thought this, Mike, because she
+is Sarah’s bosom friend!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That <em>may</em> have prejudiced me in her favour, I will allow;
+for I like most things that Sarah likes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>John looked at his friend and future brother-in-law with an
+amused surprise; the idea of liking Anna Updyke on any account
+but her own, striking him as particularly absurd. But they were
+soon at Timms’s door, and the conversation dropped as a matter
+of course.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>No one who has ever travelled much in the interior of America,
+can easily mistake the character of one of the small edifices,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>with the gable to the street, ornamented with what are erroneously
+termed Venitian blinds, painted white, and with an air
+of tobacco-smoke and the shabby-genteel about it, notwithstanding
+its architectural pretensions. This is a lawyer’s office, thus
+brought edgeways to the street, as if its owner felt the necessity
+of approaching the thoroughfare of the world a little less directly
+than the rest of mankind. It often happens that these buildings,
+small as they usually are, contain two, or even three rooms; and
+that the occupants, if single men, sleep in them as well as transact
+their business. Such was the case with Timms, his “office,”
+as the structure was termed, containing his bed-room, in addition
+to an inner and an outer apartment devoted to the purposes of
+the law. Dunscomb was in the sanctum, while a single clerk and
+three or four clients, countrymen of decent exterior and very
+expecting countenances, occupied the outer room. John and
+Millington went into the presence with little or no hesitation.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Wilmeter was not accustomed to much circumlocution; and
+he at once communicated the substance of the strange rumour
+that was in circulation, touching their interesting client. The
+uncle listened with intense attention, turning pale as the nephew
+proceeded. Instead of answering or making any comment, he
+sank upon a chair, leaned his hands on a table and his head on
+his hands, for fully a minute. All were struck with these signs
+of agitation; but no one dared to interfere. At length, this
+awkward pause came to a close, and Dunscomb raised his head,
+the face still pale and agitated. His eye immediately sought that
+of Millington.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You had heard this story, Michael?” demanded the counsellor.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I had, sir. John and I went together to try to trace it to
+some authority.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“With what success?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“None whatever. It is in every one’s mouth, but no one can
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>say whence it came. Most rumours have a clue, but this seems
+to have none.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you trace the connection which has struck—which has
+<em>oppressed</em> me?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do, sir, and was so struck the moment I heard the rumour;
+for the facts are in singular conformity with what you communicated
+to me some months since.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They are, indeed, and create a strong probability that there
+is more truth in this rumour than is commonly to be found in
+such reports. What has become of Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“On the ground, ’Squire,” answered that worthy from the
+outer room—“just despatching my clerk”—this word he pronounced
+‘clurk’ instead of ‘clark,’ by way of showing he knew
+how to spell—“with a message to one of my men. He will find
+him, and be with us in a minute.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In the mean time, Timms had a word to say to each client in
+succession; getting rid of them all by merely telling each man,
+in his turn, there was not the shadow of doubt that he would get
+the better of his opponent in the trial that was so near at hand.
+It may be said here, as a proof how much a legal prophet may
+be mistaken, Timms was subsequently beaten in each of these
+three suits, to the great disappointment of as many anxious husbandmen,
+each of whom fondly counted on success, from the oily
+promises he had received.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In a very few minutes the agent expected by Timms appeared
+in the office. He was plain-looking, rather rough and honest in
+appearance, with a most wily, <a id='corr322.27'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='sic'>villanous</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_322.27'><ins class='correction' title='sic'>villanous</ins></a></span> leer of the eye. His
+employer introduced him as Mr. Johnson.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, Johnson, what news?” commenced Timms. “These
+are friends to Mary Monson, and you can speak out, always
+avoiding partic’lar partic’lars.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Johnson leered, helped himself to a chew of tobacco with
+great deliberation, a trick he had when he needed a moment of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>thought before he made his revelations; bowed respectfully to
+the great York lawyer; took a good look at each of the young
+men, as if to measure their means of doing good or harm; and
+then condescended to reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not very good,” was the answer. “That foreign instrument,
+which they say is just such an one as David used when he played
+before Saul, has done a good deal of harm. It won’t do, ’Squire
+Timms, to fiddle off an indictment for murder! Mankind gets
+engaged in such causes; and if they desire music on the trial,
+it’s the music of law and evidence that they want.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you heard any reports concerning Mary Monson’s past
+life?—if so, can you tell where they come from?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Johnson knew perfectly well whence a portion of the rumours
+came; those which told in favour of the accused; but these he
+easily comprehended were not the reports to which Timms
+alluded.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Biberry is full of all sorts of rumours,” returned Johnson,
+cautiously, “as it commonly is in court-time. Parties like to
+make the most of their causes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You know my meaning—we have no time to lose; answer
+at once.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose I do know what you mean, ’Squire Timms; and
+I have heard the report. In my judgment, the person who set
+it afloat is no friend of Mary Monson’s.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You think, then, it will do her damage?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To the extent of her neck. Eve, before she touched the
+apple, could not have been acquitted in the face of such a rumour.
+I look upon your client as a lost woman, ’Squire <a id='corr323.28'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Timms.’'>Timms.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_323.28'><ins class='correction' title='Timms.’'>Timms.”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does that seem to be the common sentiment—that is, so far
+as you can judge?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Among the jurors it does.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The jurors!” exclaimed Dunscomb—“what can you possibly
+know of the opinions of the jurors, Mr. Johnson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>A cold smile passed over the man’s face, and he looked steadily
+at Timms, as if to catch a clue that might conduct him safely
+through the difficulties of his case. A frown that was plain
+enough to the agent, though admirably concealed from all others
+in the room, told him to be cautious.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I only know what I see and hear. Jurors are men, and other
+men can sometimes get an insight into their feelings, without
+running counter to law. I heard the rumour related myself, in
+the presence of seven of the panel. It’s true, nothing was said
+of the murder, or the arson; but such a history of the previous
+life of the accused was given as Lady Washington couldn’t have
+stood up ag’in, had she been livin’, and on trial for her life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was anything said of insanity?” asked Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ah, that plea will do no good, now-a-days; it’s worn out.
+They’d hang a murderer from Bedlam. Insanity has been overdone,
+and can’t be depended on any longer.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was anything said on the subject?” repeated the counsellor.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, to own the truth, there was; but, as that told <em>for</em>
+Mary Monson, and not <em>ag’in</em> her, it was not pressed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You think, then, that the story has been circulated by persons
+in favour of the prosecution?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know it. One of the other side said to me, not ten minutes
+ago—‘Johnson,’ said he—‘we are old friends’—he always
+speaks to me in that familiar way—‘Johnson,’ said he, ‘you’d a
+done better to have gi’n up. What’s five thousand dollars to the
+likes of her? and them you know is the figures.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is a pretty exhibition of the manner of administering
+justice!” exclaimed the indignant Dunscomb. “Long as I have
+been at the bar, I had no conception that such practices prevailed.
+At all events, this illegality will give a fair occasion to demand a
+new trial.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, the sharpest lawyer that ever crossed Harlem bridge
+can l’arn something in old Duke’s,” said Johnson, nodding
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>“’Squire Timms will stand to <em>that</em>. As for new trials, I only
+wonder the lawyers don’t get one each time they are beaten; for
+the law would bear them out.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should like to know how, Master Johnson,” put in Timms.
+“That would be a secret worth knowing.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A five-dollar note will buy it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There’s one of ten—now, tell me your secret.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, ’Squire, you <em>be</em> a gentleman, whatever folks may say
+and think of you. I’d rather do business with you, by one-half,
+than do business with Williams; notwithstanding he has such a
+name, up and down the country. Stick to it, and you’ll get the
+nomination to the Sinat’; and the nomination secured, you’re
+sure of the seat. Nomination is the government of Ameriky;
+and that’s secured by a wonderful few!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe you are more than half right, Johnson”—Here
+Dunscomb, his nephew, and Millington left the office, quite unnoticed
+by the two worthies, who had entered on a subject as
+engrossing as that of Timms’s elevation to the Senate. And, by
+the way, as this book is very likely to be introduced to the world,
+it may be well enough to explain that we have two sorts of
+“Senates” in this country; wheels within wheels. There is the
+Senate of each State, without an exception now, we believe; and
+there is the Senate of the United States; the last being, in every
+sense, much the most dignified and important body. It being
+unfortunately true, that “nominations” are the real people of
+America, unless in cases which arouse the nation, the State Senates
+very often contain members altogether unsuited to their
+trusts; men who have obtained their seats by party legerdemain;
+and who had much better, on their own account, as well as on
+that of the public, be at home attending to their own private
+affairs. This much may be freely said by any citizen, of a State
+Senate, a collection of political partisans that commands no particular
+respect; but, it is very different with that of the United
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>States; and we shall confine ourselves to saying, in reference to
+that body, which it is the fashion of the times to reverence as
+the most illustrious political body on earth, that it is not quite as
+obnoxious to this judgment as the best of its sisterhood of the
+several States; though very far from being immaculate, or what
+with a little more honesty in political leaders, it might be.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe you are half right, Johnson,” answered Timms—“Nomination
+<em>is</em> the government in this country; liberty, people,
+and all! Let a man get a nomination on the <em>right</em> side, and
+he’s as good as elected. But, now for this mode of getting new
+trials, Johnson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, ’Squire, I’m amazed a man of your experience should
+ask the question! The law is sharp enough in keeping jurors,
+and constables, and door-keepers in their places; but the jurors,
+and constables, and door-keepers, don’t like to be kept in their
+places; and there isn’t one cause in ten, if they be of any length,
+in which the jurors don’t stray, or the constables don’t get into
+the jury-rooms. You can’t pound free-born Americans like
+cattle!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understand you, Johnson, and will take the hint. I knew
+there was a screw loose in this part of our jurisprudence, but did
+not think it as important as I now see it is. The fact is, Johnson,
+we have been telling the people so long that they are perfect,
+and every man that he, in his own person, is one of these
+people, that our citizens don’t like to submit to restraints that
+are disagreeable. Still, we are a law-abiding people, as every
+one says.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That may be so, ’Squire; but we are not jury-room-abiding,
+nor be the constables outside-of-the-door-abiding, take my word
+for it. As you say, sir, every man is beginning to think he is a
+part of the people, and a great part, too; and he soon gets the
+notion that he can do as he has a mind to do.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Where is Mr. Dunscomb?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>“He stepp’d out with the young gentlemen, a few moments
+since. I dare say, ’Squire Timms, he’s gone to engage men to
+talk down this rumour about Mary Monson. That job should
+have been mine, by rights!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not he, Johnson—not he. Your grand lawyers don’t meddle
+with such matters; or, when they do, they pretend not to. No,
+he has gone to the gaol, and I must follow him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At the gaol was Dunscomb, sure enough. Mary Monson,
+Anna and Sarah, with Marie Moulin, all dressed for the court;
+the former with beautiful simplicity, but still more beautiful
+care; the three last plainly, but in attire well suited to their respective
+stations in life. There was a common air of concern and
+anxiety; though Mary Monson still maintained her self-command.
+Indeed, the quiet of her manner was truly wonderful, for the
+circumstances.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Providence has placed me in a most trying situation,” she
+said; “but I see my course. Were I to shrink from this trial,
+evade it in any manner, a blot would rest on my name as long as
+I am remembered. It is indispensable that I should be <em>acquitted</em>.
+This, by God’s blessing on the innocent, must come to pass, and
+I may go forth and face my friends with a quiet mind.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“These friends ought to be known,” answered Dunscomb,
+“and should be here to countenance you with their presence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They!—He!—Never—while I live, never!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You see this young man, Mary Monson—I believe he is
+known to you, by name?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson turned her face towards Millington, smiled
+coldly, and seemed undisturbed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What is he to me?—Here is the woman of his heart;—let
+him turn to <em>her</em>, with all his care.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You understand me, Mary Monson—it is important that I
+should be assured of <em>that</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>“Perhaps I do, Mr. Dunscomb, and perhaps I do <em>not</em>. You
+are enigmatical this morning; I cannot be certain.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In one short half-hour the bell of yonder court-house will
+ring, when you are to be tried for your life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The cheek of the accused blanched a little; but its colour
+soon returned, while her eye assumed a look even prouder than
+common.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Let it come”—was her quiet answer—“the innocent need
+not tremble. These two pure beings have promised to accompany
+me to the place of trial, and to give me <em>their</em> countenance. Why,
+then, should I hesitate?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I shall go, too”—said Millington, steadily, like one whose
+mind was made up.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You!—Well, for the sake of this dear one, you may go,
+too.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For no other reason, Mary?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For no other reason, sir. I am aware of the interest you
+and Mr. Wilmeter have taken in my case; and I thank you both
+from the bottom of my heart. Ah! kindness was never lost on
+me——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A flood of tears, for the first time since her imprisonment, so
+far as any one knew, burst from this extraordinary being; and,
+for a few minutes, she became woman in the fullest meaning of
+the term.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>During this interval Dunscomb retired, perceiving that it was
+useless to urge anything on his client while weeping almost convulsively;
+and aware that he had several things to do before the
+court met. Besides, he left the place quite satisfied on an all-important
+point; and he and Millington walked by themselves
+towards the court-house, their heads close together, and their
+voices reduced nearly to whispers.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“I blush, and am confounded to appear</div>
+ <div class='line'>Before thy presence, Cato.”</div>
+ <div class='line'>“What’s thy crime?”</div>
+ <div class='line'>“I am a Numidian.”</div>
+ <div class='line in23'><cite>Cato.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>Within the half hour mentioned by Dunscomb the court-house
+bell rang, and there was a rush towards that building, in order to
+secure seats for the approaching trial. All that has been related
+in the preceding chapter occurred between the hours of six and
+nine that morning, it being one of the “ways of the hour” in the
+march of improvement, to drive the administration of justice with
+as near an approach to railroad speed as is practicable. Many
+of the modern judges go to work as early as eight in the morning—perhaps
+most do in the country circuits—and continue to call
+causes until nine and ten at night, illustrating the justice of the
+land by means of agents who are half asleep, and stupid from
+fatigue.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We have said that everything like dignity, except as it is to
+be found in the high character of its duties, and the manner in
+which they are performed, has been banished from the courts of
+New York. Even on this solemn occasion, when a human being
+was to be put on trial for her life, and she a woman, there was
+no departure from the naked simplicity that has been set up on
+the pedestal of reason, in open opposition to the ancient accessories
+by which the Law asserted its power. It remains to be seen
+whether human nature has not been as much over-estimated
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>under the new arrangement as it was underrated by the old.
+There is a medium, in truth, that it is ever safe to respect; and
+there is reason to apprehend that in throwing away the useless
+vestments of idle parade, those necessary to decency were cast
+aside with them.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Quite a fourth of the audience assembled in Duke’s county
+court-house, on this occasion, were females. The curiosity, which
+is said to be so natural to the sex, was, on this occasion, quickened
+by the peculiar circumstances of the case, a woman having
+been murdered, and a woman accused of having committed the
+offence. It was said, however, that many were summoned as
+witnesses, it being generally understood that the state had subpœnaed
+the country far and near.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At length, a general and expecting silence succeeded the bustle
+of the crowds entering and obtaining seats, and the eyes of the
+spectators were very generally turned towards the door, in the
+wish to get a glimpse of the principal personage in the approaching
+scene. We know not why it is that the spectacle of others’
+woes has so great a charm for most persons. Nature has given
+us sympathy, and compassion, and a desire to alleviate misery;
+yet most of us like to look upon it, as a mere spectacle, when we
+have neither the wish nor the power to be more than useless
+spectators. Thousands will assemble to see a man hanged, when
+all know that the law has a grasp too tight to be unloosed, and
+that the circle of the gallows is no place for feelings of commiseration.
+But, so it is; and many a female, that day, who would
+have gladly alleviated any distress that it was in her power to
+lessen, sat there, a curious and interested observer of all that
+passed; to note the workings of the countenance, the writhings
+of the inner soul, if any such there should be, or the gleams of
+hope, that might, at intervals, lighten the gloom of despair.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The court was occupied for half an hour with hearing motions,
+and in granting orders, nothing seeming to impede its utilitarian
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>progress. Then the movement within the bar ceased, and an
+expectation that was even solemn, fell on the whole mass of human
+beings that were collected in that narrow space.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is the day for which the trial of Mary Monson was, by
+arrangement, set down,” observed the judge. “Mr. District
+Attorney, are you ready?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We are, sir—entirely so, I believe. If the court please, Mr.
+Williams and Mr. Wright will be associated with me in this
+case. It is one of importance, and I do not like the responsibility
+of trying it alone.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The court has so understood it—who is for the accused?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am retained to defend Mary Monson,” answered Dunscomb,
+rising with dignity, and speaking with the self-possession
+of one long accustomed to the courts. “Mr. Timms will assist
+me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are you ready, gentlemen?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe we are, your honour; though the prisoner has not
+yet been arraigned.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. District Attorney, we will proceed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As the sheriff now left the room, in person, rather an unusual
+thing in bringing a prisoner into court, expectation was at its height.
+In the midst of a breathing silence, the door swung round—court-room
+doors are now made to swing like turnpikes, in order
+to prevent noise—and Mr. Gott entered, followed by Mary
+Monson, Anna, Sarah, Marie Moulin, and the two young men.
+The kind-hearted wife of the sheriff was already in the room,
+and, by means of a constable, had managed to keep seats reserved
+for those who might attend the prisoner. To these seats the
+party now retired, with the exception of Marie Moulin, who attended
+her mistress within the bar.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Every observer was struck with the unexpected air, manner,
+and attire of the prisoner. Dunscomb saw, at a glance, that her
+appearance had made a most favourable impression. This was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>something, and he hoped it might counteract much of the manœuvring
+of Davis and Williams. The judge, in particular, a
+kind-hearted and very well meaning man, was taken altogether
+by surprise. There is nothing in which there is more freemasonry
+than in the secret symptoms of social castes. Each individual
+is more or less of a judge of these matters, up to the level
+of his own associations, while all beyond is mystery. It happened
+that the judge, now about to try Mary Monson, belonged
+to an old, historical, New York family, a thing of rather rare
+occurrence in the great movements of the times, and he possessed
+an hereditary tact in discerning persons of his own habits of life.
+Almost at a glance, he perceived that the prisoner had the air,
+manners, countenance and finesse, of one accustomed, from infancy,
+to good company. The reader may smile at this, but he
+must pardon us if we say the smile will betray ignorance, rather
+than denote the philosophy that he may fancy controls his opinions.
+Dunscomb was much gratified when the judge rather
+earnestly interposed against the act of the sheriff, who was about
+to place the prisoner at the bar in the little barricaded space allotted
+to the use of ordinary criminals, directing him to—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Give the prisoner a chair <em>within</em> the bar, Mr. Sheriff. Gentlemen,
+be so good as to make room, that the accused may sit
+near her counsel. Mr. Attorney, let the prisoner be arraigned,
+as soon as she has rested from the fatigue and agitation of appearing
+here.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This ceremony, now little more than a blank form, was soon
+ended, and the plea of “not guilty” was entered. The next
+step was to empannel the jury, a task of infinite difficulty, and
+one that has got to be so much an out-work, in the proceedings
+in criminal cases, as almost to baffle the powers of the law. It
+is no unusual thing for the time of the court to be occupied a
+week or two, in this preliminary proceeding, until the evil has
+got to be so crying as to induce the executive to recommend that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>the legislature may devise some mode of relief. One of the
+most besetting vices of all American legislation, in those cases in
+which abuses are not the offspring of party, is a false philanthropy,
+in which the wicked and evil doer has been protected at
+the expense of the upright and obedient. The abuse just mentioned
+is one of those in which the bottom has been reached somewhat
+sooner than common; but, it is hazarding little to predict,
+that more than half which has been done within the last few
+years, under the guise of liberty and philanthropy, will have to
+be undone, ere the citizen will be left to the quiet enjoyment of
+his rights, or can receive the just protection of the laws.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>One of the common-sense and real improvements of the day,
+is to swear the jurors, in all the causes that are to be tried, by
+one process. This is a saving of time; and though the ceremony
+might be, and ought to be made, much more solemn and
+impressive than it is, as by causing all other business to cease,
+and to make every one present rise, and stand in reverential silence,
+while the name of the God of heaven and earth is invoked,
+still it is a great improvement on the ancient mode, and has reason
+to sustain it. It gives us pleasure to note such circumstances
+in the “ways of the hour,” whenever a sense of right
+can induce one who loathes the flattery of the people quite as
+much as he loathes that of princes, and flattery of all sorts, to say
+aught in favour of what has been done, or is yet doing around him.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The clerk called the name of Jonas Wattles, the first juror
+drawn. This man was a respectable mechanic, of no great force
+in the way of mind, but meaning well, and reputed honest.
+Timms gave the senior counsel a look, which the other understood
+to mean, “he may do.” No objection being made on account
+of the state, Jonas Wattles took his seat in the jury-box,
+which was thought great good luck for a capital case.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ira Trueman,” cried the clerk.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A meaning pause succeeded the announcement of this name.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>Trueman was a person of considerable local influence, and would
+probably carry great weight in a body composed principally of
+men even less instructed than he was himself. What was more,
+both Timms and Williams knew that their respective agents had
+been hard at work to gain his ear, though neither knew exactly
+with what degree of success. It was consequently equally hazardous
+to accept or to oppose, and the two legal gladiators stood
+at bay, each waiting for the other to betray his opinion of the
+man. The judge soon became wearied, and inquired if the juror
+was accepted. It was a somewhat amusing sight, now, to observe
+the manner in which Timms proceeded with Williams, and Williams
+met Timms.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should like to hear the gentleman’s objections to this juror,”
+observed Timms, “as I do not see that his challenge is peremptory.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have not challenged the juror at all,” answered Williams,
+“but have understood the challenge comes from the defence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is extr’or’nary! The gentleman looks defiance at the
+jurors, and now declares he does not challenge!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Looks! If looks made a challenge, the state might at once
+suffer these foul murders to go unpunished, for I am sure the
+gentleman’s countenance is a perfect thunder-cloud—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I trust that counsel will recollect the gravity of this cause,
+and suffer it to be conducted with the decorum that ought never
+to be wanting in a court of justice,” interposed the judge.
+“Unless there is a direct challenge, from one side or the other,
+the juror must take his seat, of course.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should like to ask the juror a question or two,” Timms
+replied, speaking very cautiously, and like one who was afraid of
+hurting the feelings of the party under examination; and in
+truth wary, lest on investigation he might discover that Trueman
+was likely to be the sort of person he wanted. “You have been
+at Biberry, juror, since the opening of the court?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>Trueman nodded his head.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Of course, you have been round among your friends and
+neighbours, that you have met with here?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Another nod from Trueman, with a sort of affirmative grunt.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have probably heard more or less said concerning Mary
+Monson—I mean in a legal and proper way?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A third nod of assent.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Can you speak anything, in particular, that has been said in
+your presence?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Trueman seemed to tax his memory; then he raised his head,
+and answered deliberately and with great clearness,</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I was going from the tavern to the court-house, when I met
+David <a id='corr335.13'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Johnson—'>Johnson—”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_335.13'><ins class='correction' title='Johnson—'>Johnson—”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Never mind those particulars, Mr. Trueman,” interrupted
+Timms, who saw that the juror had been talking with one of his
+own most confidential agents—“what the court wishes to know
+is, if any one has been reporting circumstances <em>unfavourable</em> to
+Mary Monson in your presence?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Or in her <em>favour</em>,” put in Williams, with a sneer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Juror,” interposed the judge—“tell us if any one has spoken
+to you on the merits of this case—for or against?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<em>Merits</em>”—repeated Trueman, seeming to reflect again—“No,
+your honour; I can’t say that there has.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Now, this was as bold a falsehood as was ever uttered; but
+Trueman reconciled the answer to his conscience by choosing to
+consider that the conversation he had heard had been on the
+<em>demerits</em> of the accused.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not see, gentlemen, that you can challenge for cause,”
+observed his Honour—“unless you have further facts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps we have, sir,” answered Williams. “You were
+saying, Mr. Trueman, that you met David Johnson as you were
+going from the inn to the court-house—Did I understand you
+correctly?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>“Just so, ’Squire. I had been having a long talk with Peter
+Titus”—one of Williams’s most active and confidential agents—“when
+Johnson came up. Johnson says, says he, ‘a pleasant
+day, gentlemen—I’m glad to see you both out; for the faces of
+old friends is getting <a id='corr336.5'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='scarce——”'>scarce——’”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_336.5'><ins class='correction' title='scarce——”'>scarce——’”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I see no objection to the juror’s being received,” Williams
+carelessly remarked; satisfied that Titus had not neglected his
+duty in that long talk.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, he is as good a juror as Duke’s can furnish,” observed
+Timms, perfectly sure Johnson had turned to account the advantage
+of having the last word. Trueman was accordingly admitted
+to the box, as the second man of the twelve. The two managers
+of this cause were both right. Titus <em>had</em> crammed his old acquaintance
+Trueman with all that was circulating to the prejudice
+of the prisoner; expressing surprise when he had said all he had
+to say, at hearing that his friend was on the pannel. “Well,”
+said Titus, as Johnson approached, “if questioned, you’ll remember
+I said I didn’t dream of your being a juryman—but,
+just as like as not, you’ll not be drawn for the case at all.” On
+the other hand, Johnson was quite eloquent and pathetic in
+giving his old acquaintance the history of Mary Monson’s case,
+whom he pronounced “a most injured and parsecuted woman.”
+Trueman, a shrewd, managing fellow in general, fancied himself
+just as impartial and fit to try the cause, after he had heard the
+stories of the two men, as he had ever been; but in this he was
+mistaken. It requires an unusually clear head, exceedingly high
+principles, and a great knowledge of men, to maintain perfect
+impartiality in these cases; and certainly Trueman was not the
+man to boast of all these rare qualities. In general, the last word
+tells; but it sometimes happens that first impressions become
+difficult to eradicate. Such was the fact in the present instance;
+Trueman taking his seat in the jury-box with an exceedingly
+strong bias against the accused.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>We are aware that these are not the colours in which it is the
+fashion to delineate the venerable and much vaunted institution
+of the jury; certainly a most efficient agent in curtailing the
+power of a prince; but just as certainly a most irresponsible,
+vague, and quite often an unprincipled means of administering
+the law, when men are not urged to the desire of doing right by
+political pressure from without, and are left to the perverse and
+free workings of a very evil nature. We represent things as we
+believe them to exist, knowing that scarce a case of magnitude
+occurs in which the ministers of corruption are not at work
+among the jurors, or a verdict rendered in which the fingers of
+the Father of Lies might not be traced, were the veil removed,
+and the facts exposed to the light of day. It is true, that in
+trials for life, the persecution of the prisoner rarely takes so direct
+a form as has been represented in the case of Mary Monson; but
+the press and the tongue do an incalculable amount of evil, even
+in such cases; all the ancient safeguards of the law having been
+either directly removed by ill-considered legislation, or rendered
+dead-letters by the “ways of the hour.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was regarded as exceedingly good progress to get two jurors
+into the box, in a capital case, in the first half-hour. His Honour
+had evidently resigned himself to a twenty-four hours’ job; and
+great was his satisfaction when he saw Wattles and Trueman safely
+seated on their hard and uncomfortable seats; for it would almost
+seem that discomfort has been brought into the court-houses as a
+sort of auxiliary to the old practice of starving a jury into a
+verdict.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Whether it was owing to a suspicion, on the part of Timms,
+of the truth in regard to his being over-reached in the case of
+Trueman, or to some other cause, he raised no objections to either
+of the six jurors next called. His moderation was imitated by
+Williams. Then followed two peremptory challenges; one in
+behalf of the prisoner, and one in behalf of the people, as it is
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>termed. This was getting on so much better than everybody
+expected, that all were in good humour; and it is not exceeding
+the truth if we add, in a slight degree more disposed to view the
+prisoner and her case with favour. On such trifles do human
+decisions very often depend.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this time, fully an hour, did Mary Monson sit in resigned
+submission to her fate, composed, attentive, and singularly lady-like.
+The spectators were greatly divided in their private speculations
+on her guilt or innocence. Some saw in her quiet manner,
+curious interest in the proceedings, and unchanging colour, proofs
+not only of a hardened conscience, but of an experience in scenes
+similar to that in which she was now engaged; overlooking all
+the probabilities, to indulge in conjectures so severe against one
+so young.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, gentlemen,” cried the judge, “time is precious. Let
+us proceed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The ninth juror was drawn, and it proved to be a country
+trader of the name of Hatfield. This person was known to be a
+man of considerable influence among persons of his own class,
+and to have a reputation for judgment, if not for principles.
+“They might as well send the other eleven home, and let Hatfield
+pronounce the verdict,” whispered one lawyer to another;
+“there is no material in that box to withstand his logic.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then he will hold this young woman’s life in his hand,”
+was the reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It will be pretty much so. The glorious institution of the
+jury is admirably devised to bring about such results.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You forget the judge. He has the last word, you will remember.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Thank God it is so; else would our condition be <a id='corr338.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='terrible'>terrible.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_338.29'><ins class='correction' title='terrible'>terrible.</ins></a></span>
+Lynch law is preferable to laws administered by jurors who fancy
+themselves so many legislators.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It cannot be concealed that the spirit of the times has invaded
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>the jury-box; and the court has not one-half its ancient
+influence. I should not like to have this Hatfield against me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It would seem that Williams was of the same way of thinking;
+for he muttered to himself, desired the juror not to enter the
+box, and seemed to be pondering on the course he ought to pursue.
+The truth was that he himself had recently sued Hatfield
+for debt, and the proceedings had been a little vindictive. One
+of the dangers that your really skilful lawyer has to guard against
+is the personal animosity that is engendered by his own professional
+practice. Many men have minds so constituted that their
+opinions are affected by prejudices thus created; and they do not
+scruple to transfer their hostility from the counsel to the cause
+he is employed to defend. It is consequently incumbent on the
+prudent lawyer to make his estimate of character with judgment,
+and be as sure as the nature of the case will allow, that his client
+is not to suffer for his own acts. As hostility to the counsel is
+not a legal objection to a juror, Williams was under the necessity
+of presenting such as would command the attention of the court.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I wish the juror may be sworn true answers to make”—said
+Williams.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms now pricked up his ears; for, if it were of importance
+for Williams to <em>oppose</em> the reception of this particular individual,
+it was probably of importance to Mary Monson to have him received.
+On this principle, therefore, he was ready to resist the
+attack on the juror, who was at once sworn.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You reside in the adjoining town of Blackstone, I believe,
+Mr. Hatfield?” asked Williams.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A simple assent was the reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In practice there, in one of the learned professions?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Hatfield was certain his interrogator knew better, for Williams
+had been in his store fifty times; but he answered with the same
+innocent manner as that with which the question was put.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m in trade.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span>“In trade!—Keep a store, I dare say, Mr. Hatfield?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do—and one in which I have sold you hundreds myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A general smile succeeded this sally; and Timms looked round
+at the audience, with his nose pointing upwards, as if he scented
+his game.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I dare say—I pay as I go,” returned Williams; “and my
+memory is not loaded with such transactions——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Williams,” interrupted the judge, a little impatiently,
+“the time of the court is very precious.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So is the dignity of the outraged laws to the State, your
+Honour. We shall soon be through, sir—Many people in the
+habit of frequenting your store, Mr. Hatfield?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As much so as is usual in the country.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ten or fifteen at a time, on some occasions?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I dare say there may be.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Has the murder of Peter Goodwin ever been discussed by
+your customers in your presence?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I don’t know but it has—such a thing is very likely; but
+one hears so much, I can’t say.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you never join in such a discussion yourself?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I may, or I may not.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I ask you, now, distinctly, if you had no such discussion on
+the 26th of May last, between the hours of eleven and twelve
+in the forenoon?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The sharpness of the manner in which this question was put,
+the minuteness of the details, and the particularity of the interrogatories,
+quite confounded the juror, who answered accordingly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Such a thing <em>might</em> have taken place, and it might <em>not</em>. I
+do not remember.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is Jonas White (a regular country loafer) in the habit of
+being in your store?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He is—it is a considerable lounge for labouring men.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>“And Stephen Hook?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; he is there a good deal of his time.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Now, I beg you to remember—did not such a conversation
+take place, in which you bore a part, between the hours of
+eleven and twelve in the forenoon; White and Hook being
+present?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Hatfield seemed perplexed. He very conscientiously desired
+to tell the truth, having nothing to gain by an opposite course;
+but he really had no recollection of any such discussion, as well
+might be the case; no such conversation ever having taken place.
+Williams knew the habits of the loafers in question, had selected
+the time a little at random, and adopted the particularity merely
+as a means of confounding the juror, of whom he was seriously
+afraid.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Such a thing <em>may</em> have happened,” answered Hatfield, after
+a pause—“I don’t remember.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It <em>may</em> have happened—Now, sir, allow me to ask you if,
+in that conversation, you did not express an opinion that you did
+not, and <em>could</em> not believe that a lady educated and delicate, like
+the prisoner at the bar, did, or would, under any circumstances,
+commit the offence with which Mary Monson is charged?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Hatfield grew more and more confounded; for Williams’s
+manner was more and more confident and cool. In this state of
+feeling he suffered the reply to escape him—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I <em>may</em> have said as much—it seems quite natural.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I presume, after this,” observed Williams, carelessly, “your
+Honour will order the juror not to enter the box?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not so fast—not so fast, brother Williams,” put in Timms,
+who felt it was now his turn to say a word, and who was thumbing
+a small pocket-almanac very diligently the while.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This discussion, I understand the learned gentleman, took
+place in the juror’s store?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It did, sir,” was the answer—“a place where such discussions
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>are very apt to occur. Hook and White loaf half their
+time away in that store.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All quite likely—very likely to happen—Mr. Hatfield, do
+you open your store on the Sabbath?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly not—I am very particular to do nothing of the sort.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A church-member, I suppose, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“An undeserving one, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Never, on any account, in the practice of opening your store
+of a Sabbath, I understand you to say?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Never, except in cases of sickness. We must all respect the
+wants of the sick.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are Hook and White in the habit of loafing about on your
+premises of a Sunday?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Never—I wouldn’t tolerate it. The store is a public place
+of a week-day, and they can come in if they please; but I
+wouldn’t tolerate such visits on the Sabbath.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yet, if the court please, the 26th of last May happened to
+fall on the Sabbath day! My brother Williams forgot to look
+into the almanac before he made up his brief.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here Timms sat down, cocking his nose still higher, quite
+certain of having made a capital hit towards his views on the
+Senate, though he actually gained nothing for the cause. There
+was a general simper in the audience; and Williams felt that he
+had lost quite as much as his opponent had <a id='corr342.24'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='gained'>gained.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_342.24'><ins class='correction' title='gained'>gained.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, gentlemen, time is precious—let us get on,” interposed
+the judge—“Is the juror to enter the box or not?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I trust a trifling mistake as to the day of the month is not
+about to defeat the ends of justice,” answered Williams, raising
+himself higher on his stilts, as he found himself sinking lower
+in his facts. “I put it on the 26th by a miscalculation, I can
+now see. It was probably on the 25th—Saturday is the loafer’s
+holiday;—yes, it must have been on Saturday the 25th that the
+conversation took place.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span>“Do you remember this fact, juror?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I remember, now so much has been said on the subject,”
+answered Hatfield, firmly, “that I was not at home at all between
+the 20th and the 27th of May last. I could have held
+no such conversation on the 25th or 26th of May; nor do I
+know that I think Mary Monson either innocent or guilty.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As all this was true, and was uttered with the confidence of
+truth, it made an impression on the audience. Williams doubted;
+for so fine was his skill in managing men, that he often succeeded
+in gaining jurors by letting them understand he suspected them
+of being prejudiced against his case. With the weak and vain,
+this mode of proceeding has frequently more success than a contrary
+course; the party suspected being doubly anxious to illustrate
+his impartiality in his verdict. This was what Williams,
+and indeed the bar, very generally calls “standing so erect as to
+lean backward.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Williams,” said the judge, “you must challenge peremptorily,
+or the juror will be received.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, your Honour, the State will accept the juror; I now
+see that my information has been wrong.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We challenge for the defence,” said Timms, deciding on the
+instant, on the ground that if Williams was so ready to change
+his course of proceeding, there must be a good reason for it.
+“Stand aside, juror.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Peter Bailey,” called the clerk.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>No objection being made, Peter Bailey took his seat. The
+two next jurors were also received unquestioned; and it only
+remained to draw the twelfth man. This was so much better
+luck than commonly happens in capital cases, that everybody
+seemed more and more pleased, as if all were anxious to come to
+the testimony. The judge evidently felicitated himself, rubbing
+his hands with very great satisfaction. The bar, generally, entered
+into his feelings; for it helped along its business.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>“On the whole,” observed one of the lawyers who was in
+extensive practice, speaking to another at his side, “I would as
+soon try one of these murder-cases as to go through with a good
+water-cause.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! <em>they</em> are excruciating! Get into a good water-cause,
+with about thirty witnesses on a side, and you are in for a week.
+I was three days at one, only last circuit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are there many witnesses in this case?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“About forty, I hear,” glancing towards the benches where
+most of the females sat. “They tell me there will be a very
+formidable array as to character. Ladies from York by the
+dozen!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They will be wanted, if all they say is true.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If all you hear is true, we have reached a new epoch in the
+history of mankind. I have never seen the day when half of
+that I hear is more than half true. I set the rest down as ‘leather
+and prunella.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Robert Robinson,” cried the clerk.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A respectable-looking man of fifty presented himself, and was
+about to enter the box without stopping to ascertain whether or
+not he would be welcome there. This person had much more
+the air of the world than either of the other jurors; and with
+those who are not very particular, or very discriminating in such
+matters, might readily enough pass for a gentleman. He was
+neatly dressed, wore gloves, and had certain chains, an eye-glass,
+and other appliances of the sort, that it is not usual to see at a
+country circuit. Neither Williams nor Timms seemed to know
+the juror; but each looked surprised, and undecided how he
+ought to act. The peremptory challenges were not exhausted;
+and there was a common impulse in the two lawyers, first to accept
+one so respectable in mien, and attire, and general air; and
+then, by a sudden revolution of feeling, to reject one of whom
+they knew <a id='corr344.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='nothing'>nothing.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_344.33'><ins class='correction' title='nothing'>nothing.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>“I suppose the summons is all right,” Williams carelessly
+remarked. “The juror resides in Duke’s?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do,” was the answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is a freeholder, and entitled to serve?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A somewhat supercilious smile came over the countenance of
+the juror; and he looked round at the person who could presume
+to make such a remark, with something very like an air of contempt.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am <em>Doctor</em> Robinson,” he then observed, laying emphasis
+on his learned appellation.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams seemed at a loss; for, to say the truth, he had never
+heard of any such physician in the county. Timms was quite
+as much mystified; when a member of the bar leaned across a
+table, and whispered to Dunscomb that the juror was a celebrated
+quack, who made pills that would cure all diseases; and who,
+having made a fortune, had bought a place in the county, and
+was to all legal purposes entitled to serve.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The juror can stand aside,” said Dunscomb, rising in his
+slow dignified manner. “If it please the court, <em>we</em> challenge
+peremptorily.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms looked still more surprised; and when told the reason
+for the course taken by his associate, he was even sorry.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The man is a <em>quack</em>,” said Dunscomb, “and there is quackery
+enough in this system of a jury, without calling in assistance from
+the more open practitioners.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m afraid, ’Squire, he is just the sort of man we want. I
+can work on such spirits, when I fail altogether with more everyday-kind
+of men. A little quackery does no harm to some
+causes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ira Kingsland,” called out the clerk.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Ira Kingsland appeared, a staid, solid, respectable husbandman—one
+of those it is a mistaken usage of the country to term
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>yeomen; and of a class that contains more useful information,
+practical good sense and judgment, than might be imagined,
+under all the circumstances.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As no objection was raised, this juror was received, and the
+pannel was complete. After cautioning the jurors about listening
+and talking, in the usual way, the judge adjourned the court
+for dinner.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“I know it is dreadful! I feel the</div>
+ <div class='line'>Anguish of thy generous soul—but I was born</div>
+ <div class='line'>To murder all who love me.”</div>
+ <div class='line in22'><cite>George Barnwell.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>Dunscomb was followed to his room by Millington, between
+whom and himself, John Wilmeter had occasion to remark, a
+sudden intimacy had sprung up. The counsellor had always
+liked his student, or he would never have consented to give him
+his niece; but it was not usual for him to hold as long, or seemingly
+as confidential conversations with the young man, as now
+proved to be the case. When the interview was over, Millington
+mounted a horse and galloped off, in the direction of town, in
+that almost exploded manner of moving. Time was, and that
+within the memory of man, when the gentlemen of New York
+were in their saddles hours each day; but all this is changing
+with the times. We live in an age of buggies, the gig, phaeton,
+and curricle having disappeared, and the utilitarian vehicle just
+named having taken their places. Were it not for the women, who
+still have occasion for closer carriages, the whole nation would
+soon be riding about in buggies! Beresford is made, by one of
+his annotators, to complain that everything like individuality is
+becoming lost in England, and that the progress of great improvements
+must be checked, or independent thinkers will shortly be
+out of the question. If this be true of England, what might not
+be said on the same subject of America? Here, where there is
+so much community as to have completely engulphed everything
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>like individual thought and action, we take it the most imitative
+people on earth are to be found. This truth is manifested in a
+thousand things. Every town is getting its Broadway, thus defeating
+the very object of names; to-day the country is dotted
+with Grecian temples, to-morrow with Gothic villages, all the
+purposes of domestic architecture being sadly forgotten in each;
+and, as one of the Spensers is said to have introduced the article
+of dress which bears his name, by betting he could set the fashion
+of cutting off the skirts of the coat, so might one who is looked
+up to, in this country, almost set the fashion of cutting off the nose.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb, however, was a perfectly original thinker. This
+he manifested in his private life, as well as in his public profession.
+His opinions were formed in his own way, and his acts
+were as much those of the individual as circumstances would at
+all allow. His motives in despatching Millington so suddenly
+to town were known to himself, and will probably be shown to
+the reader, as the narrative proceeds.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, sir, how are we getting on?” asked John Wilmeter,
+throwing himself into a chair, in his uncle’s room, with a heated
+and excited air. “I hope things are going to your mind?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We have got a jury, Jack, and that is all that can be said
+in the matter,” returned the uncle, looking over some papers as
+the conversation proceeded. “It is good progress, in a capital
+case, to get a jury empannelled in the first forenoon.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You’ll have the verdict in, by this time to-morrow, sir, I’m
+afraid!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why afraid, boy? The sooner the poor woman is acquitted,
+the better will it be for <em>her</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, if she be acquitted; but I fear everything is looking
+dark, in the case.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And this from <em>you</em>, who fancied the accused an angel of
+light, only a week since!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She is certainly a most fascinating creature, <em>when she chooses
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>to be</em>,” said John, with emphasis; “but she does not always
+choose to appear in that character.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She is most certainly a fascinating creature, <em>when she chooses
+to be</em>!” returned the uncle, with very much the same sort of
+emphasis.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>But Dunscomb’s manner was very different from that of his
+nephew. John was excited, petulant, irritable, and in a state to
+feel and say disagreeable things; dissatisfied with himself, and
+consequently not very well pleased with others. A great change
+had come over his feelings, truly, within the last week, and the
+image of the gentle Anna Updyke was fast taking the place of
+that of Mary Monson. As the latter seldom saw the young
+man, and then only at the grate, the former had got to be the
+means of communication between the youthful advocate and his
+client, throwing them constantly in each other’s way. On such
+occasions Anna was always so truthful, so gentle, so earnest, so
+natural, and so sweetly feminine, that John must have been
+made of stone, to remain insensible of her excellent qualities.
+If women did but know how much their power, not to say charms,
+are increased by gentleness, by tenderness in lieu of coldness of
+manner, by keeping within the natural circle of their sex’s feelings,
+instead of aping an independence and spirit more suited to
+men than to their own condition, we should see less of discord in
+domestic life, happier wives, better mothers, and more reasonable
+mistresses. No one knew this better than Dunscomb, who had
+not been an indifferent spectator of his nephew’s course, and who
+fancied this a favourable moment to say a word to him, on a subject
+that he felt to be important.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This <em>choosing</em> to be is a very material item in the female
+character,” continued the counsellor, after a moment of silent
+and profound thought. “Whatever else you may do, my boy,
+in the way of matrimony, marry a gentle and feminine woman.
+Take my word for it, there is no true happiness with any other.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>“Women have their tastes and caprices, and like to indulge
+them, sir, as well as ourselves.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All that may be true, but avoid what is termed a woman of
+independent spirit. They are usually so many devils incarnate.
+If they happen to unite moneyed independence with moral independence,
+I am not quite certain that their tyranny is not worse
+than that of Nero. A tyrannical woman is worse than a tyrannical
+man, because she is apt to be capricious. At one moment
+she will blow hot, at the next cold; at one time she will give,
+at the next clutch back her gifts; to-day she is the devoted and
+obedient wife, to-morrow the domineering partner. No, no, Jack,
+marry a <em>woman</em>; which means a kind, gentle, affectionate,
+thoughtful creature, whose heart is so full of <em>you</em>, there is no
+room in it for herself. Marry just such a girl as Anna Updyke,
+if you can get her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I thank you, sir,” answered John, colouring. “I dare say
+the advice is good, and I shall bear it in mind. What would
+you think of a woman like Mary Monson, for a wife?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb turned a vacant look at his nephew, as if his
+thoughts were far away, and his chin dropped on his bosom.
+This abstraction lasted but a minute, however when the young
+man got his answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson <em>is</em> a wife, and I fear a bad one,” returned the
+counsellor. “If she be the woman I suppose her to be, her history,
+brief as it is, is a very lamentable one. John, you are my
+sister’s son, and my heir. You are nearer to me than any other
+human being, in one sense, though I certainly love Sarah quite
+as well as I do you, if not a little better. These ties of feeling
+are strange links in our nature! At one time I loved your mother
+with a tenderness such as a father might feel for a child; in
+short, with a brother’s love—a brother’s love for a young, and
+pretty, and good girl, and I thought I could never love another
+as I loved Elizabeth. She returned my affection, and there was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>a period of many years when it was supposed that we were to
+pass down the vale of life in company, as brother and sister—old
+bachelor and old maid. Your father deranged all this, and
+at thirty-four my sister left me. It was like pulling my heart-strings
+out of me, and so much the worse, boy, because they
+were already sore.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>John started. His uncle spoke hoarsely, and a shudder, that
+was so violent as to be perceptible to his companion, passed
+through his frame. The cheeks of the counsellor were usually
+colourless; now they appeared absolutely pallid.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This, then,” thought John Wilmeter, “is the insensible old
+bachelor, who was thought to live altogether for himself. How
+little does the world really know of what is passing within it!
+Well may it be said, ‘here is a skeleton in every house.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb soon recovered his self-command. Reaching forth
+an arm, he took his nephew’s hand, and said affectionately—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am not often thus, Jack, as you must <a id='corr351.17'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='know,'>know.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_351.17'><ins class='correction' title='know,'>know.</ins></a></span> A vivid
+recollection of days that have long been past came freshly over
+me, and I believe I have been a little unmanned. To you, my
+early history is a blank; but a very few words will serve to tell
+all you need ever know. I was about your time of life, Jack,
+when I loved, courted, and became engaged to Mary Millington—Michael’s
+great-aunt. Is this new to you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not entirely, sir; Sarah has told me something of the same
+sort—you know the girls get hold of family anecdotes sooner
+than we men.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She then probably told you that I was cruelly, heartlessly
+jilted, for a richer man. Mary married, and left one daughter;
+who also married early, her own cousin, Frank Millington, the
+cousin of Michael’s father. You may now see why I have ever
+felt so much interest in your future brother-in-law.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<em>He</em> is a good fellow, and quite free from all jilting blood,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>I’ll answer for it. But, what has become of this Mrs. Frank
+Millington? I remember no such person.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Like her mother, she died young, leaving an only daughter
+to inherit her name and very ample fortune. The reason you
+never knew Mr. Frank Millington is probably because he went
+to Paris early, where he educated his daughter, in a great degree—there,
+and in England—and when he died, Mildred Millington,
+the heiress of both parents, is said to have had quite twenty
+thousand a year. Certain officious friends made a match for her,
+I have heard, with a Frenchman of some family, but small means;
+and the recent revolution has driven them to this country, where,
+as I have been told, she took the reins of domestic government
+into her own hands, until some sort of a separation has been the
+consequence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, this account is surprisingly like the report we have
+had concerning Mary Monson, this morning!” cried Jack, springing
+to his feet with excitement.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe her to be the same person. Many things unite to
+create this opinion. In the first place, there is certainly a marked
+family resemblance to her grandmother and mother; then the
+education, manners, languages, money, Marie Moulin, and the
+initials of the assumed name, each and all have their solution in
+this belief. The ‘Mademoiselle’ and the ‘Madame’ of the Swiss
+maid are explained; in short, if we can believe this Mary Monson
+to be Madame de Larocheforte, we can find an explanation
+of everything that is puzzling in her antecedents.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But, why should a woman of twenty thousand a year be living
+in the cottage of Peter Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Because she <em>is</em> a woman of twenty thousand a year. Mons.
+de Larocheforte found her money was altogether at her own command,
+by this new law, and, naturally enough, he desired to play
+something more than a puppet’s part in his own abode and family.
+The lady clings to her dollars, which she loves more than her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>husband; a quarrel ensues, and she chooses to retire from his
+protection, and conceal herself, for a time, under Peter Goodwin’s
+roof, to evade pursuit. Capricious and wrong-headed women do
+a thousand strange things, and thoughtless gabblers often sustain
+them in what they do.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is rendering the marriage tie very slight!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is treating it with contempt; setting at naught the laws
+of God and man—one’s duties, and the highest obligations of
+woman. Still, many of the sex fancy if they abstain from one
+great and distinct offence, the whole catalogue of the remaining
+misdeeds is at their mercy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not to the extent of murder and arson, surely! Why should
+such a woman commit these crimes?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“One never knows. We are fearfully constituted, John;
+morally and physically. The fairest form often conceals the
+blackest heart, and <span lang="la"><i>vice versa</i></span>. But I am now satisfied that there
+is a vein of insanity in this branch of the Millingtons; and it is
+possible Madame de Larocheforte is more to be pitied than to be
+censured.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You surely do not think her guilty, uncle Tom?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The counsellor looked intently at his nephew, shaded his brow
+a moment, gazed upward, and answered—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do. There is such a chain of proof against her as will
+scarce admit of explanation. I am afraid, Jack—I am afraid
+that she has done these deeds, terrible as they are! Such has
+been my opinion, now, for some time; though my mind has
+vacillated, as I make no doubt will prove to be the case with
+those of most of the jurors. It is a sad alternative; but I see
+no safety for her except in the plea of insanity. I am in hopes
+that something may be made out in that respect.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We are quite without witnesses to the point; are we not,
+sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly; but Michael Millington has gone to town to send
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>by telegraph for the nearest connections of Madame de Larocheforte,
+who are in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia. The
+husband himself is somewhere on the Hudson. He must be
+hunted up too. Michael will see to all this. I shall get the
+judge to adjourn early this evening; and we must spin out the
+trial for the next day or two, in order to collect our forces. The
+judge is young and indulgent. He has certain ridiculous notions
+about saving the time of the public; but does not feel secure
+enough in his seat to be very positive.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At this instant Timms burst into the room, in a high state of
+excitement, exclaiming, the moment he was sure that his words
+would not reach any hostile ears—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Our case is desperate! All the Burtons are coming out dead
+against us; and neither ‘the new philanthropy,’ nor ‘Friends,’
+nor ‘anti-gallows,’ can save us. I never knew excitement get up
+so fast. It’s the infernal aristocracy that kills us!—Williams
+makes great use of it; and our people will not stand <a id='corr354.17'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='aristocracy'>aristocracy.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_354.17'><ins class='correction' title='aristocracy'>aristocracy.</ins></a></span>
+See what a magnanimous report to the legislature the learned
+Attorney-General has just made on the subject of <a id='corr354.19'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='aristocracy'>aristocracy.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_354.19'><ins class='correction' title='aristocracy'>aristocracy.</ins></a></span>
+How admirably he touches up the kings and countesses!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Pshaw!” exclaimed Dunscomb, with a contemptuous curl
+of the lip—“not one in a thousand knows the meaning of the
+word; and he among the rest. The report you mention is that
+of a refined gentleman, to be sure, and is addressed to his equals.
+What exclusive political privilege does Mary Monson possess?
+or what does the patroon, unless it be the privilege of having
+more stolen from him, by political frauds, than any other man in
+the State? This cant about social aristocracy, even in a state of
+society in which the servant deserts his master with impunity, in
+the midst of a dinner, is very miserable stuff! Aristocracy, forsooth!
+If there be aristocracy in America, the blackguard is the
+aristocrat. Away, then, with all this trash, and speak common
+sense in future.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>“You amaze me, sir! Why, I regard <em>you</em> as a sort of aristocrat,
+Mr. Dunscomb.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Me!—And what do you see aristocratic about me, pray?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, sir, you don’t <em>look</em> like the rest of us. Your very
+<em>walk</em> is different—your language, manners, dress, habits and
+opinions, all differ from those of the Duke’s county bar. Now,
+to my notion, that is being exclusive and peculiar; and whatever
+is peculiar is aristocratic, is it not?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here Dunscomb and his nephew burst out in a laugh; and,
+for a few minutes, Mary Monson was forgotten. Timms was
+quite in earnest; for he had fallen into the every-day notions, in
+this respect, and it was not easy to get him out of them.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps the Duke’s county bar contains the aristocrats, and
+I am the cerf!” said the counsellor.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That cannot be—you <em>must</em> be the aristocrat, if any there be
+among us. I don’t know <em>why</em> it is so, but so it is; yes, <em>you</em> are
+the aristocrat, if there be one at our bar.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Jack smiled, and looked funny; but he had the discretion to
+hold his tongue. <em>He</em> had heard that a Duke of Norfolk, the top
+of the English aristocracy, was so remarkable for his personal
+habits as actually to be offensive; a man who, according to
+Timms’s notions, would have been a long way down the social
+ladder; but who, nevertheless, was a top-peer, if not a top-sawyer.
+It was easy to see that Timms confounded a gentleman with
+an aristocrat; a confusion in ideas that is very common, and
+which is far from being unnatural, when it is remembered how
+few formerly acquired any of the graces of deportment who had
+not previously attained positive, exclusive, political rights. As
+for the Attorney-General and his report, Jack had sufficient
+sagacity to see it was a document that said one thing and meant
+another; professing deference for a people that it did not stop to
+compliment with the possession of either common honesty or
+good manners.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>“I hope <em>my</em> aristocracy is not likely to affect the interests of
+my client.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No; there is little danger of that. It is the democracy of
+the Burtons which will do that. I learn from Johnson that they
+are coming out stronger and stronger; and I feel certain Williams
+is sure of their testimony. By the way, sir, I had a hint from
+him, as we left the court-house, that the five thousand dollars
+might <em>yet</em> take him from the field.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This Mr. Williams, as well as yourself, Timms, must be
+more cautious, or the law will yet assert its power. It is very
+much humbled, I am aware, under the majesty of the people
+and a feeble administration of its authority; but its arm is long,
+and its gripe potent, when it chooses to exert its force. Take
+my advice, and have no more to do with such arrangements.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The dinner-bell put an end to the discussion. Timms vanished
+like a ghost; but Dunscomb, whose habits were gentlemanlike,
+and who knew that Mrs. Horton had assigned a particular seat
+to him, moved more deliberately; following his nephew about
+the time Timms was half through the meal.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>An American tavern-dinner, during the sitting of the circuit,
+is every way worthy of a minute and graphic description; but
+our limits will hardly admit of our assuming the task. If
+“misery makes a man acquainted with strange bed-fellows,” so
+does the law. Judges, advocates, witnesses, sheriffs, clerks, constables,
+and not unfrequently the accused, dine in common, with
+rail-road speed. The rattling of knives, forks, and spoons, the
+clatter of plates, the rushing of waiters, landlord, landlady, chamber-maids,
+ostler and bar-keeper included, produce a confusion
+that would do honour to the most profound “republican simplicity.”
+Everything approaches a state of nature but the eatables;
+and they are invariably overdone. On an evil day, some Yankee
+invented an article termed a “cooking-stove;” and since its appearance
+everything like good cookery has vanished from the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>common American table. There is plenty spoiled; abundance
+abused. Of made dishes, with the exception of two or three of
+very simple characters, there never were any; and these have
+been burned to cinders by the baking processes of the “cook-stoves.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It matters little, however, to the <em>convives</em> of a circuit-court
+dinner, what the dishes are called, or of what they are composed.
+“Haste” forbids “taste;” and it actually occurred that day, as
+it occurs almost invariably on such occasions, that a very clever
+country practitioner was asked the <em>materiel</em> of the dish he had
+been eating, and he could not tell it! Talk of the mysteries of
+French cookery! The “cook-stove” produces more mystery than
+all the art of all the culinary artists of Paris; and this, too, on a
+principle that tallies admirably with that of the purest “republican
+simplicity;” since it causes all things to taste alike.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>To a dinner of this stamp Dunscomb now sat down, just ten
+minutes after the first clatter of a plate was heard, and just as
+the only remove was seen, in the form of slices of pie, pudding
+and cake. With his habits, railroad speed or lightning-line eating
+could find no favour; and he and Jack got their dinner, as best
+they might, amid the confusion and remnants of the close of such
+a repast. Nine-tenths of those who had so lately been at work
+as trencher-men were now picking their teeth, smoking segars,
+or preparing fresh quids for the afternoon. A few clients were
+already holding their lawyers by the button; and here and there
+one of the latter led the way to his room to “settle” some slander
+cause in which the plaintiff had got frightened.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is a bad sign when eating is carried on without <a id='corr357.27'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='conversation'>conversation.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_357.27'><ins class='correction' title='conversation'>conversation.</ins></a></span>
+To converse, however, at such a table, is morally if not physically
+impossible. Morally, because each man’s mind is so intent on
+getting as much as he wants, that it is almost impossible to bring
+his thoughts to bear on any other subject; physically, on account
+of the clatter, a movement in which an eclipse of a plate by the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span>body of a waiter is no unusual thing, and universal activity of
+the teeth. Conversation under such circumstances would be
+truly a sort of ventriloquism; the portion of the human frame
+included in the term being all in all just at that moment.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Notwithstanding these embarrassments and unpleasant accompaniments,
+Dunscomb and his nephew got their dinners, and were
+about to quit the table as McBrain entered. The doctor would
+not expose his bride to the confusion of the common table, where
+there was so much that is revolting to all trained in the usages
+of good company, singularly blended with a decency of deportment,
+and a consideration for the rights of each, that serve to
+form bright spots in American character; but he had obtained a
+more private room for the females of his party.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We should do pretty well,” observed McBrain, in explaining
+his accommodations, “were it not for a troublesome neighbour
+in an adjoining room, who is either insane or intoxicated. Mrs.
+Horton has put us in your wing, and I should think you must
+occasionally hear from him too?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The man is constantly drunk, they tell me, and is a little
+troublesome at times. On the whole, however, he does not annoy
+me much. I shall take the liberty of dining with you to-morrow,
+Ned; this eating against time does not agree with my constitution.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To-morrow!—I was thinking that my examination would
+be ended this afternoon, and that we might return to town in the
+morning. You will remember I have patients to attend to.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You will have more reason for <em>patience</em>. If you get through
+in a week, you will be lucky.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is a curious case! I find all the local faculty ready to
+swear through thick and thin against her. My own opinion is
+fixed—but what is the opinion of one man against those of several
+in the same profession?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We will put that question to Mrs. Horton, who is coming to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>ask how we have dined—Thank’ee, my good Mrs. Horton, we
+have done <em>remarkably</em> well, considering all the circumstances.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The landlady was pleased, and smirked, and expressed her
+gratification. The <span lang="fr"><i>sous entendu</i></span> of Dunscomb was lost upon her;
+and human vanity is very apt to accept the flattering, and to overlook
+the disagreeable. She was pleased that the great York lawyer
+was satisfied.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. Horton was an American landlady, in the strictest sense
+of the word. This implies many features distinct from her European
+counterpart; some of which tell greatly in her favour, and
+others not so much so. Decency of exterior, and a feminine
+deportment, are so characteristic of the sex in this country, that
+they need scarcely be adverted to. There were no sly jokes, no
+<span lang="fr"><i>doubles entendres</i></span> with Mrs. Horton; who maintained too grave
+a countenance to admit of such liberties. Then, she was entirely
+free from the little expedients of a desire to gain that are naturally
+enough adopted in older communities, where the pressure of
+numbers drives the poor to their wits’-end, in order to live. American
+abundance had generated American liberality in Mrs. Horton;
+and if one of her guests asked for bread, she would give
+him the loaf. She was, moreover, what the country round termed
+“accommodating;” meaning that she was obliging and good-natured.
+Her faults were a fierce love of gossip, concealed under
+a veil of great indifference and modesty, a prying curiosity, and a
+determination to know everything, touching everybody, who ever
+came under her roof. This last propensity had got her into
+difficulties, several injurious reports having been traced to her
+tongue, which was indebted to her imagination for fully one-half
+of what she had circulated. It is scarcely necessary to add, that,
+among the right set, Mrs. Horton was a great talker. As Dunscomb
+was a favourite, he was not likely to escape on the present
+occasion; the room being clear of all the guests but those of his
+own party.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>“I am glad to get a little quiet talk with you, ’Squire Dunscomb,”
+the landlady commenced; “for a body can depend on
+what is heard from such authority. Do they mean to hang Mary
+Monson?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is rather premature to ask that question, Mrs. Horton.
+The jury is empannelled, and there we stand at present.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is it a good jury?—Some of our Duke’s county juries are
+none too good, they tell me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The whole institution is a miserable contrivance for the
+administration of justice. Could a higher class of citizens compose
+the juries, the system might still do, with a few improvements.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why not elect them?” demanded the landlady, who was
+<span lang="la"><i>ex officio</i></span>, a politician, much as women are usually politicians in
+this country. In other words, she <em>felt</em> her opinions, without
+knowing their reasons.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“God forbid, my good Mrs. Horton—we have elective judges;
+that will do for the present. Too much of a good thing is as
+injurious as the positively bad. I prefer the present mode of
+drawing lots.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you got a Quaker in the box?—If you have, you are
+safe enough.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I doubt if the District Attorney would suffer that; although
+he appears to be kind and considerate. The man who goes into
+that box must be prepared to hang if necessary.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For my part, I wish all hanging was done away with. I
+can see no good that hanging can do a man.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You mistake the object, my dear Mrs. Horton, though your
+argument is quite as good as many that are openly advanced on
+the same side of the question.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Just hear me, ’Squire,” rejoined the woman; for she loved
+dearly to get into a discussion on any question that she was accustomed
+to hear debated among her guests. “The country
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_361'>361</span>hangs a body to reform a body; and what good can that do when
+a body is dead?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very ingeniously put,” returned the counsellor, politely
+offering his box to the landlady, who took a few grains; and
+then deliberately helping himself to a pinch of snuff—“quite
+as ingeniously as much of the argument that appears in public.
+The objection lies to the premises, and not to the deduction,
+which is absolutely logical and just. A hanged body is certainly
+an unreformed body; and, as you say, it is quite useless to hang
+in order to reform.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There!” exclaimed the woman in triumph—“I told ’Squire
+Timms that a gentleman who knows as much as you do must be
+on our side. Depend on one thing, lawyer Dunscomb, and you
+too, gentlemen—depend on it, that Mary Monson will never be
+hanged.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was said with a meaning so peculiar, that it struck Dunscomb,
+who watched the woman’s earnest countenance while she
+was speaking, with undeviating interest and intensity.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is my duty and my wish, Mrs. Horton, to believe as much,
+and to make others believe it also, if I can,” he answered, now
+anxious to prolong a discourse that a moment before he had found
+tiresome.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You can, if you will only try. I believe in dreams—and I
+dreamt a week ago that Mary Monson would be acquitted. It
+would be ag’in all our new notions to hang so nice a lady.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Our <em>tastes</em> might take offence at it; and taste is of <em>some</em> influence
+yet, I am bound to agree with you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But you do agree with me in the uselessness of hanging,
+when the object is to reform?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Unfortunately for the force of that argument, my dear
+landlady, society does not punish for the purposes of reformation—that
+is a very common blunder of superficial philanthropists.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_362'>362</span>“Not for the purposes of reformation, ’Squire!—You astonish
+me! Why, for what else should it punish?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For its own protection. To prevent others from committing
+murder. Have you no other reason than your dream, my good
+Mrs. Horton, for thinking Mary Monson will be acquitted?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The woman put on a knowing look, and nodded her head
+significantly. At the same time, she glanced towards the counsellor’s
+companions, as much as to say that their presence prevented
+her being more explicit.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ned, do me the favour to go to your wife, and tell her I shall
+stop in, and say a kind word as I pass her door;—and, Jack, go
+and bid Sarah be in Mrs. McBrain’s parlour, ready to give me
+my morning’s kiss.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The Doctor and John complied, leaving Dunscomb alone with
+the woman.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“May I repeat the question, my good landlady?—Why do
+you think Mary Monson is to be acquitted?” asked Dunscomb,
+in one of his softest tones.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. Horton mused, seemed anxious to speak, but struggling
+with some power that withheld her. One of her hands was in a
+pocket where the jingling of keys and pence made its presence
+known. Drawing forth this hand mechanically, Dunscomb saw
+that it contained several eagles. The woman cast her eyes on
+the gold, returned it hastily to her pocket, rubbed her forehead,
+and seemed the wary, prudent landlady once more.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hope you like your room, ’Squire,” she cried, in a thoroughly,
+inn-keeping spirit. “It’s the very best in this house;
+though I’m obliged to tell Mrs. McBrain the same story as to
+her apartment. But you have the best. You have a troublesome
+neighbour between you, I’m afraid; but he’ll not be there
+many days, and I do all I can to keep him quiet.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is that man crazy?” asked the counsellor, rising, perceiving
+that he had no more to expect from the woman just then; “or
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_363'>363</span>is he only drunk? I hear him groan, and then I hear him swear;
+though I cannot understand what he says.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He’s sent here by his friends; and your wing is the only
+place we have to keep him in. When a body is well paid, ’Squire,
+I suppose you know that the fee must not be forgotten? Now,
+inn-keepers have fees, as well as you gentlemen of the bar. How
+wonderfully Timms is getting along, Mr. Dunscomb!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe his practice increases; and they tell me he stands
+next to Mr. Williams in Duke’s.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He does, indeed; and a ‘bright particular star,’ as the poet
+says, has he got to be!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If he be a star at all,” answered the counsellor, curling his
+lip, “it must be a very particular one, indeed. I am sorry to
+leave you, Mrs. Horton; but the intermission is nearly up.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb gave a little friendly nod, which the landlady
+returned; the former went his way with singular coolness of
+manner, when it is remembered that on him rested the responsibility
+of defending a fellow-creature from the gallows. What
+rendered this deliberation more remarkable, was the fact that he
+had no faith in the virtue of Mrs. Horton’s <a id='corr363.20'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='dream'>dream.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_363.20'><ins class='correction' title='dream'>dream.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id007'>
+<img src='images/i_367.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_364'>364</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Wilt thou behold me sinking in my woes,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm,</div>
+ <div class='line'>To raise one from amidst this plunge of sorrow?”</div>
+ <div class='line in34'><cite>Addison.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Call the names of the jurors, Mr. Clerk,” said the judge.
+“Mr. Sheriff, I do not see the prisoner in her place.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This produced a stir. The jurors were called, and answered
+to their names; and shortly after, Mary Monson appeared. The
+last was accompanied by the ladies, who might now be said to
+belong to her party, though no one but herself and Marie Moulin
+came within the bar.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>There was profound stillness in the hall, for it was felt that
+now the issue of life or death was actually approaching. Mary
+Monson gazed, not with disquietude but interest, at the twelve
+men who were to decide on her innocence or guilt—men of
+habits and opinions so different from her own—men so obnoxious
+to prejudices against those whom the accidents of life had made
+objects of envy or hatred—men too much occupied with the
+cares of existence to penetrate the arcana of thought, and who
+consequently held their opinions at the mercy of others—men
+unskilled, because without practice, in the very solemn and important
+office now imposed on them by the law—men who might
+indeed be trusted, so long as they would defer to the court and
+reason, but who were terrible and dangerous, when they listened,
+as is too apt to be the case, to the suggestions of their own impulses,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_365'>365</span>ignorance and prejudice. Yet these men were Mary
+Monson’s peers, in the eyes of the law—would have been so
+viewed and accepted in a case involving the feelings and practices
+of social castes, about which they knew absolutely nothing, or,
+what is worse than nothing, a very little through the medium of
+misrepresentation and mistaken conclusions.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is the fashion to extol the institution of the jury. Our own
+experience, by no means trifling, as foreman, as suitor, and as a
+disinterested spectator, does not lead us to coincide in this opinion.
+A narrative of the corrupt, misguided, partial, prejudiced,
+or ignorant conduct that we have ourselves witnessed in these
+bodies, would make a legend of its own. The power that most
+misleads such men, is one unseen by themselves, half the time,
+and is consequently so much the more dangerous. The feelings
+of neighbourhood, political hostility, or party animosities, are
+among the commonest evils that justice has to encounter, when
+brought in contact with tribunals thus composed. Then come
+the feelings engendered by social castes, an inexhaustible source
+of evil passions. Mary Monson had been told of the risks she
+ran from that source; though she had also been told, and with
+great truth, that so much of the spirit of God still remains in the
+hearts and minds of men, as to render a majority of those who
+were to be the arbiters of her fate conscientious and careful in a
+capital case. Perhaps, as a rule, the singularity of his situation,
+with a man who finds himself, for the first time, sitting as a juror
+in a trial for a human life, is one of the most available correctives
+of his native tendencies to do evil.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. District Attorney, are you ready to proceed?” inquired
+the judge.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This functionary rose, bowed to the court and jury, and commenced
+his opening. His manner was unpretending, natural,
+and solemn. Although high talent and original thought are very
+rare in this country, as they are everywhere else, there is a vast
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_366'>366</span>fund of intellect of a secondary order, ever at the command of
+the public. The District Attorney of Duke’s was a living witness
+of this truth. He saw all within his reach clearly, and, possessing
+great experience, he did his duty, on this occasion, in a very
+creditable manner. No attempt was made to awaken prejudice
+of any sort against the accused. She was presented by the grand
+inquest, and it was his and their painful duty, including his
+honour on the bench, to investigate this matter, and make a
+solemn decision, on their oaths. Mary Monson was entitled to
+a fair hearing, to all the advantages that the lenity of the criminal
+law of a very humane state of society could afford, and “for
+God’s sake let her be acquitted should the State fail to establish
+her guilt!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mr. District Attorney then proceeded to give a narrative of
+the events as he supposed them to have occurred. He spoke of
+the Goodwins as “<em>poor</em>, but <em>honest</em>” people, a sort of illustration
+that is in much favour, and deservedly so, when true. “It
+seems, gentlemen,” the District Attorney continued, “that the
+wife had a propensity, or a fancy, to collect gold pieces, no doubt
+as a store against the wants of age. This money was kept in a
+stocking, according to the practice of country ladies, and was
+often exhibited to the neighbours. We may have occasion, gentlemen,
+to show you that some fifteen or twenty persons, at different
+times, have seen and handled this gold. You need not
+be told what natural curiosity is, but must all know how closely
+persons little accustomed to see money of this sort, would be apt
+to examine the more rare pieces, in particular. There happened
+to be several of these pieces among the gold of Mrs. Goodwin;
+and one of them was an Italian or a Dutch coin, of the value of
+four dollars, which commonly goes by the name of the king whose
+likeness is on the piece. This Dutch or Italian coin, no matter
+which, or William, was seen, and handled, and examined by
+several persons, as we shall show you.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_367'>367</span>“Now, gentlemen, the stocking that contained the gold coins,
+was kept in a bureau, which bureau was saved from the fire, with
+all its contents: but the stocking and the gold were missing!
+These facts will be shown to you by proof that puts them beyond
+a peradventure. We shall next show to you, gentlemen, that on
+a public examination of the prisoner at the bar, the contents of
+her purse were laid open, and the Dutch or Italian coin I have
+mentioned was found, along with more than a hundred dollars
+of other pieces, which being in American coin, cannot so readily
+be identified.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The prosecution relies, in a great degree, on the proof that
+will be offered in connection with this piece of money, to establish
+the guilt of the prisoner. We are aware that, when this
+piece of money was found on her person, she affirmed it was
+hers; that she had been possessed of <em>two</em> such pieces, and that
+the one seen in Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking had been a present from
+herself to that unfortunate woman.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Gentlemen, if persons accused of crimes could vindicate
+themselves by their own naked statements, there would be very
+few convictions. Reason tells us that proof must be met by
+proof. Assertions will not be received, as against the accused,
+nor will they be taken in her favour. Your own good sense will
+tell you, gentlemen, that if it be shown that Dorothy Goodwin
+possessed this particular piece of gold, valued it highly, and was
+in the practice of hoarding all the gold she could lay her hands
+on lawfully; that the said Dorothy Goodwin’s residence was
+burned, she herself murdered by a savage and cruel blow or blows
+on the occiput, or head; that Mary Monson, the prisoner at the
+bar, knew of the existence of this little stock of gold coins, had
+seen it, handled it, and doubtless <em>coveted</em> it; residing in the same
+house, with easy access to the bedside of the unhappy couple,
+with easy access to the bureau, to the keys which opened that
+bureau, for its drawers were found locked, just as Mrs. Goodwin
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_368'>368</span>was in the habit of leaving them;—but, gentlemen, if all this
+be shown to you, and we then trace the aforesaid piece or coin to
+the pocket of Mary Monson, we make out a <span lang="la"><i>prima facie</i></span> case of
+guilt, as I conceive; a case that will throw on her the <span lang="la"><i>onus</i></span> of
+showing that she came in possession of the said piece of coin
+lawfully, and by no improper means. Failing of this, your duty
+will be plain.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is incumbent on the prosecution to make out its case,
+either by direct proof, on the oaths of credible witnesses, or by
+such circumstances as shall leave no doubt in your minds of the
+guilt of the accused. It is also incumbent that we show that the
+crimes, of which the prisoner is accused, have been committed,
+and committed by her.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Gentlemen, we shall offer you this proof. We shall show
+you that the skeletons of which I have spoken, and which lie
+under that pall, sad remains of a most ruthless scene, are beyond
+all question the skeletons of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin. This
+will be shown to you by proof; though all who knew the parties,
+can almost see the likeness in these sad relics of mortality. Peter
+Goodwin, as will be shown to you, was a very short, but
+sturdy man, while Dorothy, his wife, was a woman of large size.
+The skeletons meet this description exactly. They were found
+on the charred wood of the bedstead the unhappy couple habitually
+used, and on the very spot where they had passed so many
+previous nights in security and peace. Everything goes to corroborate
+the identity of the persons whose remains have been
+found, and I regret it should be my duty to add, that everything
+goes to fasten the guilt of these murders on the prisoner at the
+bar.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Gentlemen, although we rely mainly on the possession of
+the Dutch or Italian coin, no matter which, to establish the case
+for the state, we shall offer you a great deal of sustaining and
+secondary proof. In the first place, the fact that a female, young,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_369'>369</span>handsome, well, nay, expensively educated, coming from nobody
+knows whence, to go nobody knows whither, should suddenly
+appear in a place as retired as the house of Peter Goodwin, why
+no one can say, are in themselves very suspicious. Gentlemen,
+‘all is not gold that glitters.’ Many a man, and many a woman,
+in places large as New York, are not what they seem to be.
+They dress, and laugh, and sing, and appear to be among the
+gayest of the gay, when they do not know where to lay their
+heads at night. Large towns are moral blotches, they say, on
+the face of the community, and they conceal many things that
+will not bear the light. From one of these large towns, it is to
+be presumed from her dress, manners, education, amusements,
+and all belonging to her, came Mary Monson, to ask an asylum
+in the dwelling of the Goodwins. Gentlemen, why did she
+come? Had she heard of the hoard of Mrs. Goodwin, and did
+she crave the possession of the gold? These questions it will be
+your duty to answer in your verdict. Should the reply be in the
+affirmative, you obtain, at once, a direct clue to the motives for
+the murder.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Among the collateral proof that will be offered are the following
+circumstances, to which I now ask your particular attention,
+in order that you may give to the testimony its proper value.
+It will be shown that Mary Monson had a large sum in gold in
+her possession, <em>after</em> the arson and murders, and consequently
+<em>after</em> the robbery, but no one knew of her having any <em>before</em>.
+It will be shown that she has money in abundance, scattering it
+right and left, as we suppose to procure her acquittal, and this
+money we believe she took from the bureau of Mrs. Goodwin—how
+much, is not known. It is thought that the sum was very
+large; the gold alone amounted to near a thousand dollars, and
+two witnesses will testify to a still larger amount in bank notes.
+The Goodwins talked of purchasing a farm, valued at five thousand
+dollars; and as they were known never to run in debt, the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_370'>370</span>fair inference is, that they must have had at least that sum by
+them. A legacy was left Dorothy Goodwin within the last six
+months, which we hear was very considerable, and we hope to
+be able to put a witness on the stand who will tell you all
+about it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But, gentlemen, a circumstance worthy of all attention in an
+investigation like this, is connected with an answer to this question—Who
+is Mary Monson? What are her parentage, birthplace,
+occupation, and place of residence? Why did she come
+to Biberry at all? In a word, what is her past history? Let
+this be satisfactorily explained, and a great step is taken towards
+her vindication from these most grave charges. Shall we have
+witnesses to character? No one will be happier to listen to them
+than myself. My duty is far from pleasant. I sincerely hope
+the prisoner will find lawful means to convince you of her innocence.
+There is not one within the walls of this building who
+will hear such a verdict, if sustained by law and evidence, with
+greater pleasure than it will be heard by me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>After pursuing this vein some time longer, the worthy functionary
+of the state showed a little of that cloven foot which
+seems to grow on all, even to the cleanest heels, who look to the
+popular voice for preferment. No matter who the man is, rich
+or poor, young or old, foolish or wise, he bows down before the
+idol of Numbers, and there worships. Votes being the one thing
+wanted, must be bought by sacrifices on the altar of conscience.
+Now it is by wild, and, half the time, impracticable schemes of
+philanthropy, that while they seem to work good to the majority,
+are quite likely to disregard the rights of the minority; now they
+are flourishes against negro slavery, or a revolution in favour of
+the oppressed inhabitants of Crim-Tartary, of the real state of
+which country we are all as ignorant as its inhabitants are ignorant
+of us; now, it’s an exemption law, to enable a man to escape
+from the payment of his just debts, directly in the teeth of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>the sound policy, not to say morality, that if a man owe he
+should be made to pay as long as he has anything to do it with;
+now, it is a hymn in praise of a liberty that the poet neither
+comprehends nor cares to look into farther than may suit his own
+selfish patriotism; and now, it is some other of the thousand
+modes adopted by the designing to delude the masses and advance
+themselves.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>On this occasion the District Attorney was very cautious, but
+he showed the cloven foot. He paid a passing tribute to the
+god of Numbers, worshipped before the hierarchy of votes.
+“Gentlemen,” he continued, “like myself, you are plain, unpretending
+citizens. Neither you, nor your wives and daughters,
+speak in foreign tongues, or play on foreign instruments of music.
+We have been brought up in republican simplicity, [God bless
+it! say we, could we ever meet with it,] and lay no claims to superiority
+of any sort. Our place is in the body of the nation,
+and there we are content to remain. We shall pay no respect
+to dress, accomplishments, foreign languages, or foreign music;
+but, the evidence sustaining us, will show the world that the law
+frowns as well on the great as on the little; on the pretending,
+as well as on the unpretending.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As these grandiose sentiments were uttered, several of the jurors
+half rose from their seats, in the eagerness to hear, and looks
+of approbation passed from eye to eye. This was accepted as
+good republican doctrine; no one there seeing, or feeling, as taste
+and truth would have shown, that the real pretension was on the
+side of an exaggerated self-esteem, that prompted to resistance
+ere resistance was necessary, under the influence of, perhaps, the
+lowest passion of human nature—we allude to envy. With a
+little more in the same vein, the District Attorney concluded his
+opening.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The great coolness, not to say indifference, with which Mary
+Monson listened to this speech, was the subject of general comment
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_372'>372</span>among the members of the bar. At times she had been
+attentive, occasionally betraying surprise; then indignation would
+just gleam in her remarkable eye; but, on the whole, an uncommon
+calmness reigned in her demeanour. She had prepared
+tablets for notes; and twice she wrote in them as the District
+Attorney proceeded. This was when he adverted to her past
+life, and when he commented on the Dutch coin. While he was
+speaking of castes, flattering one set under the veil of pretending
+humility, and undermining their opposites, a look of quiet contempt
+was apparent in every feature of her very expressive face.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If it please the court,” said Dunscomb, rising in his deliberate
+way, “before the prosecution proceeds with its witnesses,
+I could wish to appeal to the courtesy of the gentlemen on the
+other side for a list of their names.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe we are not bound to furnish any such list,” answered
+Williams, quickly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps not bound exactly in law; but, it strikes me, bound
+in justice. This is a trial for a life; the proceedings are instituted
+by the State. The object is justice, not vengeance—the
+protection of society, through the agency of an impartial, though
+stern justice. The State cannot wish to effect anything by surprise.
+We are accused of murder and arson, with no other notice
+of what is to be shown, or <em>how</em> anything is to be shown, than
+what is contained in the bill or complaint. Any one can see
+how important it may be to us, to be apprised of the names of
+the witnesses a little in advance, that we may inquire into character
+and note probabilities. I do not insist on any <em>right</em>; but I
+ask a favour that humanity sanctions.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If it please the court,” said Williams, “we have an important
+trust. I will here say that I impute nothing improper to either
+of the prisoner’s counsel; but it is my duty to suggest the necessity
+of our being cautious. A great deal of money has been
+expended already in this case; and there is always danger of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>witnesses being bought off. On behalf of my client, I protest
+against the demand’s being complied with.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The court has no objection to the course asked by the prisoner’s
+counsel,” observed the judge, “but cannot direct it. The
+State can never wish its officers to be harsh or exacting; but it
+is their duty to be prudent. Mr. District Attorney, are you ready
+with your evidence? Time is precious, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The testimony for the prosecution was now offered. We shall
+merely advert to most of it, reserving our details for those witnesses
+on whom the cause might be said to turn. Two very
+decent-looking and well-behaved men, farmers who resided in the
+vicinity of Biberry, were put on the stand to establish the leading
+heads of the case. They had known Peter and Dorothy Goodwin;
+had often stopped at the house; and were familiarly acquainted
+with the old couple, as neighbours. <a id='corr373.15'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Remembered'>“Remembered</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_373.15'><ins class='correction' title='Remembered'>“Remembered</ins></a></span> the
+fire—was present at it, towards its close. Saw the prisoner there;
+saw her descend, by a ladder; and assisted in saving her effects.
+Several trunks, carpet-bags, bandboxes, writing-desks, musical
+instruments, &c. &c. All were saved. “<em>It seemed to them that
+they had been placed near the windows, in a way to be handy.</em>”
+After the fire, had never seen or heard anything of the old man
+and his wife, unless two skeletons that had been found were their
+skeletons. Supposed them to be the skeletons of Peter Goodwin
+and his wife”—Here the remains were for the first time on that
+trial exposed to view. “Those are the same skeletons, should
+say—had no doubt of it; they are about the size of the old
+couple. The husband was short; the wife tall. Little or no
+difference in their height. Had never seen the stocking or the
+gold; but had heard a good deal of talk of them, having lived
+near neighbours to the Goodwins five-and-twenty years.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb conducted the cross-examination. He was close,
+discriminating, and judicious. Separating the hearsay and gossip
+from the facts known, he at once threw the former to the winds,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_374'>374</span>as matter not to be received by the jury. We shall give a few
+of his questions and their answers that have a bearing on the
+more material points of the trial.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understand you to say, witness, that you knew both Peter
+Goodwin and his wife?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did—I knew them well—saw them almost every day of
+my life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“For how long a time?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This many a day. For five-and-twenty years, or a little
+more.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Will you say that you have been in the habit of seeing Peter
+Goodwin and his wife daily, or almost daily, for five-and-twenty
+years?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If not right down daily, quite often; as often as once or
+twice a week, certainly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is this material, Mr. Dunscomb?” inquired the judge. “The
+time of the court is very precious.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It <em>is</em> material, your honour, as showing the looseness with
+which witnesses testify; and as serving to caution the jury how
+they receive their evidence. The opening of the prosecution
+shows us that if the charge is to be made out at all against the
+prisoner, it is to be made out on purely circumstantial evidence.
+It is not pretended that any one <em>saw</em> Mary Monson kill the
+Goodwins; but the crime is to be <em>inferred</em> from a series of collateral
+facts, that will be laid before the court and jury. I think
+your honour will see how important it is, under the circumstances,
+to analyze the testimony, even on points that may not seem to
+bear directly on the imputed crimes. If a witness testify loosely,
+the jury ought to be made to see it. I have a life to defend, your
+honour will remember.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Proceed, sir; the court will grant you the widest latitude.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You now say, as often as once or twice a week, witness; on
+reflection, will you swear to even <em>that?</em>”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_375'>375</span>“Well, if not twice, I am sure I can say <em>once</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb was satisfied with this answer, which went to show
+that the witness could reply a little at random, and was not
+always certain of his facts, when pressed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are you certain that Dorothy Goodwin is dead?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose I am as certain as any of the neighbours.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is not an answer to my question. Will you, and do
+you swear on your oath, that Peter Goodwin, the person named
+in the indictment, is actually dead?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll swear that I <em>think</em> so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is not what I want. You see those skeletons—will
+you say, on your oath, that you <em>know</em> them to be the skeletons
+of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll swear that I believe it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That does not meet the question. Do you <em>know</em> it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How can I know it? I’m not a doctor, or a surgeon. No,
+I do not absolutely <em>know</em> it. Still, I believe that one is the
+skeleton of Peter Goodwin, and the other the skeleton of his
+wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which do you suppose to be the skeleton of Peter Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This question puzzled the witness not a little. To the ordinary
+eye, there was scarcely any difference in the appearance of these
+sad remains; though one skeleton had been ascertained by actual
+measurement to be about an inch and a half longer than the
+other. This fact was known to all in Biberry; but it was not
+easy to say which was which, at a glance. The witness took the
+safe course, therefore, of putting his opinion altogether on a different
+ground.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not pretend to tell one from the other,” was the answer.
+<a id='corr375.31'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='‘What'>“What</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_375.31'><ins class='correction' title='‘What'>“What</ins></a></span> I know of my own knowledge is this, and this only. I
+knew Peter and Dorothy Goodwin; knew the house they lived
+in; know that the house has been burnt down, and that the old
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_376'>376</span>folks are not about their old ha’nts. The skeletons I never saw
+until they were moved from the place where they tell me they
+were found; for I was busy helping to get the articles saved
+under cover.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then you do not pretend to know which skeleton is that of
+a man, or which that of a woman?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This question was ingeniously put, and had the effect to make
+all the succeeding witnesses shy on this point; for it created a
+belief that there was a difference that might be recognized by
+those who are skilled in such matters. The witness assented to
+the view of Dunscomb; and having been so far sifted as to show
+he knew no more than all the rest of the neighbours, he was
+suffered to quit the stand. The result was that very little was
+actually established by means of this testimony. It was evident
+that the jury was now on the alert, and not disposed to receive
+all that was said as gospel.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The next point was to make out all the known facts of the
+fire, and of the finding of the skeletons. The two witnesses just
+examined had seen the close of the fire, had <em>heard</em> of the skeletons,
+but had said very little more to the purpose. Dunscomb
+thought it might be well to throw in a hint to this effect in the
+present state of the case, as he now did by remarking—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I trust that the District Attorney will see precisely where he
+stands. All that has yet been shown by legal proof are the facts
+that there were such persons as Peter and Dorothy Goodwin;
+facts we are not at all disposed to deny——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And that they have not appeared in the flesh since the night
+of the fire?” put in Williams.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not to the witnesses; but, to how many others, does not
+appear.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does the learned counsel mean to set up the defence that
+Goodwin and his wife are not dead?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is for the prosecution to show the contrary affirmatively.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_377'>377</span>If it be so, it is fair to presume they can do it. All I now contend
+for, is the fact that we have no proof as yet that either is
+dead. We have proof that the house was burnt; but we are
+now traversing an indictment for murder, and not that for arson.
+As yet, it strikes me, therefore, nothing material has been shown.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is certainly material, Mr. Dunscomb, that there should
+have been such persons as the Goodwins, and that they have disappeared
+since the night of the fire; and this much is proved,
+unless you impeach the witnesses,” observed the judge.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, sir, that much we are not disposed to deny. There
+<em>were</em> such persons as the Goodwins, and they have disappeared
+from the neighbourhood. We believe that much ourselves.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Crier, call Peter Bacon.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Bacon came forward, dressed in an entire new suit of clothes, and
+appearing much more respectable than was his wont. This man’s
+testimony was almost word for word as it has already been given
+in the coroner’s inquest. He established the facts of the fire,
+about which there could be no prudent contention indeed, and of
+the finding of the skeletons; for he had been one of those who
+aided in first searching the ruins for the remains. This man told
+his story in an extremely vulgar dialect, as we have had already
+occasion to show; but in a very clear, distinct manner. He
+meant to tell the truth, and succeeded reasonably well; for it
+does not occur to all who have the same upright intentions to
+effect their purposes as well as he did himself. Dunscomb’s
+cross-examination was very brief; for he perceived it was useless
+to attempt to deny what had been thus proved.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Jane Pope”—called out the District Attorney—“Is Mrs.
+Jane Pope in court?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The widow Pope was on the spot, and ready and willing to
+answer. She removed her bonnet, took the oath, and was shown
+to the seat with which it is usual to accommodate persons of
+her sex.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_378'>378</span>“Your name,” said Dunscomb, holding his pen over the paper.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Pope—Jane Pope since my marriage; but Jane Anderson
+from my parents.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb listened politely, but recorded no more than the
+appellation of the widow. Mrs. Pope now proceeded to tell her
+story, which she did reasonably well, though not without a good
+deal of unnecessary amplitude, and some slight contradictions.
+It was <em>her</em> intention, also, to tell nothing but the truth; but
+persons whose tongues move as nimbly as that of this woman’s,
+do not always know exactly what they do say. Dunscomb detected
+the contradictions; but he had the tact to see their cause,
+saw that they were not material, and wisely abstained from confounding
+whatever of justice there was in the defence with points
+that the jury had probably sufficient sagacity to see were of no
+great moment. He made no note, therefore, of these little oversights,
+and allowed the woman to tell her whole story uninterrupted.
+When it came to his turn to cross-examine, however,
+the duty of so doing was not neglected.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You say, Mrs. Pope, that you had often seen the stocking in
+which Mrs. Goodwin kept her gold. Of what material was that
+stocking?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Wool—yes, of blue woollen yarn. A stocking knit by hand,
+and very darny.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Should you know the stocking, Mrs. Pope, were you to see
+it again?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think I might. Dolly Goodwin and I looked over the
+gold together more than once; and the stocking got to be a sort
+of acquaintance.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was this it?” continued Dunscomb, taking a stocking of the
+sort described from Timms, who sat ready to produce the article
+at the proper moment.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If it please the court,” cried Williams, rising in haste, and
+preparing eagerly to interrupt the examination.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_379'>379</span>“Your pardon, sir,” put in Dunscomb, with great self-command,
+but very firmly—“words must not be put into the witness’s
+mouth, nor ideas into her head. She has sworn, may it
+please your honour, to a certain stocking; which stocking she
+described in her examination in chief; and we now ask her if
+this is that stocking. All this is regular, I believe; and I trust
+we are not to be interrupted.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Go on, sir,” said the judge; “the prosecution will not interrupt
+the defence. But time is very precious.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is this the stocking?” repeated Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The woman examined the stocking, looking inside and out,
+turning it over and over, and casting many a curious glance at
+the places that had been mended.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s dreadful darney, isn’t it?” she said, looking inquiringly
+at the counsellor.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is as you see, Ma’am. I have made no alteration in it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I declare I believe this <em>is</em> the very stocking.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“At the proper time, your honour, we shall show that this is
+<em>not</em> the stocking, if indeed there ever was such a stocking at all,”
+said Timms, rolling up the article in question, and handing it to
+the clerk to keep.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You saw a certain piece of gold, you say,” resumed Dunscomb,
+“which piece of gold I understand you to say was afterwards
+found in the pocket of Mary Monson. Will you have the
+goodness to say whether the piece of gold which you saw in Mrs.
+Goodwin’s possession is among these?”—showing a dozen coins;
+“or whether one resembling it is here?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The woman was greatly puzzled. She meant to be honest;
+had told no more than was true, with the exception of the little
+embellishments that her propensity to imagine and talk rendered
+almost unavoidable; but, for the life of her, she could not distinguish
+the piece of money, or its counterpart. After examining
+the coins for several minutes she frankly admitted her <a id='corr379.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='ignorance'>ignorance.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_379.33'><ins class='correction' title='ignorance'>ignorance.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_380'>380</span>“It is scarcely necessary to continue this cross-examination,”
+said Dunscomb, looking at his watch. “I shall ask the court to
+adjourn, and to adjourn over until morning. We have reached
+the hour for lighting candles; but we have agents out in quest
+of most important witnesses; and we ask the loss of this evening
+as a favour. It can make no great difference as to the length of
+the trial; and the jurors will be all the fresher for a good night’s
+rest.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The court acquiesced, and allowed of the adjournment, giving
+the jury the usual charge about conversing or making up their
+opinions until they had heard the whole testimony; a charge
+that both Williams and Timms took very good care to render of
+no use in several instances, or as regarded particular individuals.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A decided impression was made in favour of the prisoner by
+Mrs. Pope’s failure to distinguish the piece of money. In her
+examination in chief she saw no difficulty in recognizing the
+single piece then shown to her, and which was the Dutch coin
+actually found in Mary Monson’s purse; but, when it was put
+among a dozen others resembling it, more or less, she lost all
+confidence in herself, and, to a certain point, completely broke
+down as a witness. But Dunscomb saw that the battle had not
+yet in truth begun. What had passed was merely the skirmishing
+of light troops, feeling the way for the advance of the heavy
+columns and the artillery that were to decide the fortunes of the
+day.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_381'>381</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='quote'>
+
+<p class='c011'>“’Tis the wisest way, upon all tender topics, to be silent; for he who
+takes upon himself to defend a lady’s reputation, only publishes her favours
+to the world.”—<cite>Cumberland.</cite></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p class='c001'>The wing of “Horton’s Inn” that contained the room of Dunscomb,
+was of considerable extent, having quite a dozen rooms in
+it, though mostly of the diminutive size of an American tavern
+bed-room. The best apartment in it, one with two windows, and
+of some dimensions, was that appropriated to the counsellor.
+The doctor and his party had a parlour, with two bed-rooms;
+while, between these and the room occupied by Dunscomb, was
+that of the troublesome guest—the individual who was said to
+be insane. Most of the remainder of the wing, which was much
+the most quiet and retired portion of the house, was used for a
+better class of bed-rooms. There were two rooms, however, that
+the providence of Horton and his wife had set apart for a very
+different purpose. These were small parlours, in which the initiated
+smoked, drank, and played.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Nothing sooner indicates the school in which a man has been
+educated, than his modes of seeking amusement. One who has
+been accustomed to see innocent relaxation innocently indulged,
+from childhood up, is rarely tempted to abuse those habits which
+have never been associated, in his mind, with notions of guilt,
+and which, in themselves, necessarily imply no moral delinquency.
+Among the liberal, cards, dancing, music, all games of skill and
+chance that can interest the cultivated, and drinking, in moderation
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_382'>382</span>and of suitable liquors, convey no ideas of wrong <a id='corr382.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='doing'>doing.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_382.1'><ins class='correction' title='doing'>doing.</ins></a></span> As
+they have been accustomed to them from early life, and have
+seen them practised with decorum and a due regard to the habits
+of refined society, there is no reason for concealment or consciousness.
+On the other hand, an exaggerated morality, which has
+the temerity to enlarge the circle of sin beyond the bounds for
+which it can find any other warranty than its own metaphysical
+inferences, is very apt to create a factitious conscience, that almost
+invariably takes refuge in that vilest of all delinquency—direct
+hypocrisy. This, we take it, is the reason that the reaction of
+ultra godliness so generally leaves its subjects in the mire and
+sloughs of deception and degradation. The very same acts assume
+different characters, in the hands of these two classes of
+persons; and that which is perfectly innocent with the first, affording
+a pleasant, and in that respect a useful relaxation, becomes
+low, vicious, and dangerous with the other, because tainted
+with the corrupting and most dangerous practices of deception.
+The private wing of Horton’s inn, to which there has been allusion,
+furnished an example in point of what we mean, within two
+hours of the adjournment of the court.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In the parlour of Mrs. McBrain, late Dunscomb’s Widow Updyke,
+as he used to call her, a little table was set in the middle
+of the room, at which Dunscomb himself, the doctor, his new
+wife and Sarah were seated, at a game of whist. The door was
+not locked, no countenance manifested either a secret consciousness
+of wrong, or an overweening desire to transfer another’s
+money to its owner’s pocket, although a sober sadness might be
+said to reign in the party, the consequence of the interest all took
+in the progress of the trial.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Within twenty feet of the spot just mentioned, and in the two
+little parlours already named, was a very different set collected.
+It consisted of the rowdies of the bar, perhaps two-thirds of the
+reporters in attendance on Mary Monson’s trial, several suitors,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_383'>383</span>four or five country doctors, who had been summoned as witnesses,
+and such other equivocal gentry as might aspire to belong
+to a set as polished and exclusive as that we are describing. We
+will first give a moment’s attention to the party around the whist-table,
+in the parlour first described.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not think the prosecution has made out as well, to-day,
+all things considered, as it was generally supposed it would,”
+observed McBrain. “There is the ace of trumps, Miss Sarah,
+and if you can follow it with the king, we shall get the odd
+trick.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not think I shall follow it with anything,” answered
+Sarah, throwing down her cards. “It really seems heartless to
+be playing whist, with a fellow-creature of our acquaintance on
+trial for her life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have not half liked the game,” said the quiet Mrs. McBrain,
+“but Mr. Dunscomb seemed so much bent on a rubber, I scarce
+knew how to refuse him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, true enough, Tom,” put in the doctor, “this is all
+your doings, and if there be anything wrong about it, you will
+have to bear the blame.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Play anything but a trump, Miss Sarah, and <em>we</em> get the
+game. You are quite right, Ned”—throwing down the pack—“the
+prosecution has not done as well as I feared they <a id='corr383.23'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='might'>might.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_383.23'><ins class='correction' title='might'>might.</ins></a></span>
+That Mrs. Pope was a witness I dreaded, but her testimony
+amounts to very little, in itself; and what she has said, has been
+pretty well shaken by her ignorance of the coin.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I really begin to hope the unfortunate lady may be innocent,”
+said the doctor.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Innocent!” exclaimed Sarah—“surely, uncle Ned, you can
+never have doubted it!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>McBrain and Dunscomb exchanged significant glances, and the
+last was about to answer, when raising his eyes, he saw a strange
+<a id='corr383.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='from'>form</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_383.33'><ins class='correction' title='from'>form</ins></a></span> glide stealthily into the room, and place itself in a dark corner.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_384'>384</span>It was a short, sturdy figure of a man, with all those signs
+of squalid misery in his countenance and dress that usually denote
+mental imbecility. He seemed anxious to conceal himself,
+and did succeed in getting more than half of his person beneath
+a shawl of Sarah’s, ere he was seen by any of the party but the
+counsellor. It at once occurred to the latter that this was the
+being who had more than once disturbed him by his noise, and
+who Mrs. Horton had pretty plainly intimated was out of his
+mind; though she had maintained a singularly discreet silence
+for her, touching his history and future prospects. She believed
+“he had been brought to court by his friends, to get some order,
+or judgment—may be, his visit had something to do with the new
+code, about which ’Squire Dunscomb said so many hard things.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A little scream from Sarah soon apprised all in the room of
+the presence of this disgusting-looking object. She snatched
+away her shawl, leaving the idiot, or madman, or whatever he
+might be, fully exposed to view, and retreated, herself, behind
+her uncle’s chair.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I fancy you have mistaken your room, my friend,” said
+Dunscomb, mildly. “This, as you see, is engaged by a card-party—I
+take it, you do not play.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A look of cunning left very little doubt of the nature of the
+malady with which this unfortunate being was afflicted. He
+made a clutch at the cards, laughed, then drew back, and began
+to mutter.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She won’t let me play,” mumbled the idiot—“she never
+<em>would</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><a id='corr384.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Whom'>“Whom</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_384.29'><ins class='correction' title='Whom'>“Whom</ins></a></span> do you mean by she?” asked Dunscomb. “Is it any
+one in this house—Mrs. Horton, for instance?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Another cunning look, with a shake of the head, for an answer
+in the negative.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Be you ’Squire Dunscomb, the great York lawyer?” asked
+the stranger, with interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_385'>385</span>“Dunscomb is certainly my name—though I have not the
+pleasure of knowing yours.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I haven’t got any name. They may ask me from morning
+to night, and I won’t tell. She won’t let me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By <em>she</em>, you again mean Mrs. Horton, I suppose?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No I don’t. Mrs. Horton’s a <em>good</em> woman; she gives me
+victuals and drink.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Tell us whom you do mean, then.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Won’t you tell?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not unless it be improper to keep the secret. Who is this
+<em>she</em>?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, <em>she</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ay, but who?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson. If you’re the great lawyer from York, and
+they say you be, you must know all about Mary Monson.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is very extraordinary!” said Dunscomb, regarding his
+companion, in surprise. “I <em>do</em> know something about Mary
+Monson, but not <em>all</em> about her. Can you tell me anything?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here the stranger advanced a little from his corner, listened,
+as if fearful of being surprised, then laid a finger on his lip, and
+made the familiar sound for ‘hush.’</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Don’t let her hear you; if you do, you may be sorry for it.
+She’s a witch!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Poor fellow!—she seems, in truth, to have bewitched you,
+as I dare say she may have done many another man.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That has she! I wish you’d tell me what I want to know,
+if you really be the great lawyer from York.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Put your questions, my friend; I’ll endeavour to answer
+them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Who set fire to the house? Can you tell me <em>that</em>?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is a secret yet to be discovered—do you happen to
+know anything about it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_386'>386</span>“Do I?—I think I do. Ask Mary Monson; <em>she</em> can tell
+you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this was so strange, that the whole party now gazed at
+each other in mute astonishment; McBrain bending his looks
+more intently on the stranger, in order to ascertain the true nature
+of the mental malady with which he was obviously afflicted.
+In some respects the disease wore the appearance of idiocy;
+then again there were gleams of the countenance that savoured
+of absolute madness.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are of opinion, then, that Mary Monson knows who set
+fire to the house.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Sartain, she does. I know, too, but I won’t tell. They
+might want to hang me, as well as Mary Monson, if I told. I
+know too much to do anything so foolish. Mary has said they
+would hang <em>me</em>, if I tell. I don’t want to be hanged, a bit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A shudder from Sarah betrayed the effect of these words on
+the listeners; and Mrs. McBrain actually rose with the intention
+of sending for her daughter, who was then in the gaol, consoling
+the much-injured prisoner, as Anna Updyke firmly believed her
+to be, by her gentle but firm friendship. A word from the doctor,
+however, induced her to resume her seat, and to await the
+result with a greater degree of patience.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson would seem to be a very prudent counsellor,”
+rejoined Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; but she isn’t the great counsellor from York—you be
+that gentleman, they tell me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“May I ask who told you anything about me?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nancy Horton—and so did Mary Monson. Nancy said if
+I made so much noise, I should disturb the great counsellor from
+York, and he might get me hanged for it. I was only singing
+hymns, and they say it is good for folks in trouble to sing hymns.
+If you be the great counsellor from York, I wish you would tell
+me one thing. Who got the gold that was in the stocking?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_387'>387</span>“Do you happen to know anything of that stocking, or of the
+gold?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do I—” looking first over one shoulder, then over the other,
+but hesitating to proceed. “Will they hang me, if I tell?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should think not; though I can only give you an opinion.
+Do not answer, unless it be agreeable to you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I want to tell—I want to tell <em>all</em>, but I’m afeard. I don’t
+want to be hanged.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, then, speak out boldly, and I will promise that you
+shall not be hanged. Who got the gold that was in the
+stocking?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson. That’s the way she has got so much
+money.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I cannot consent to leave Anna another instant in such company!”
+exclaimed the anxious mother. “Go, McBrain, and
+bring her hither at once.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are a little premature,” coolly remarked Dunscomb.
+“This is but a person of weak mind; and too much importance
+should not be attached to his words. Let us hear what further
+he may have to say.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was too late. The footstep of Mrs. Horton was heard in
+the passage; and the extraordinary being vanished as suddenly
+and as stealthily as he had entered.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What can be made of this?” McBrain demanded, when a
+moment had been taken to reflect.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nothing, Ned; I care not if Williams knew it all. The
+testimony of such a man cannot be listened to for an instant. It
+is wrong in us to give it a second thought; though I perceive
+that you do. Half the mischief in the world is caused by misconceptions,
+arising from a very numerous family of causes; one
+of which is a disposition to fancy a great deal from a little. Do
+you pronounce the man an idiot—or is he a madman?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He does not strike me as absolutely either. There is something
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_388'>388</span>peculiar in his case; and I shall ask permission to look
+into it. I suppose we are done with the cards—shall I go for
+Anna?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The anxious mother gave a ready assent; and McBrain went
+one way, while Dunscomb retired to his own room, not without
+stopping before his neighbour’s door, whom he heard muttering
+and menacing within.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this time the two little parlours mentioned were receiving
+their company. The law is doubtless a very elevated profession,
+when its practice is on a scale commensurate with its true objects.
+It becomes a very different pursuit, however, when its higher
+walks are abandoned, to choose a path amid its thickets and quagmires.
+Perhaps no human pursuit causes a wider range of character
+among its votaries, than the practice of this profession.
+In the first place, the difference, in an intellectual point of view,
+between the man who sees only precedents, and the man who
+sees the principles on which they are founded, is as marked as
+the difference between black and white. To this great distinction
+in mind, is to be added another that opens a still wider chasm,
+the results of practice, and which depends on morals. While
+one set of lawyers turn to the higher objects of their calling,
+declining fees in cases of obviously questionable right, and
+struggle to maintain their honesty in direct collision with the
+world and its temptations, another, and much the largest, falls
+readily into the practices of their craft—the word seems admirably
+suited to the subject—and live on, encumbered and endangered
+not only by their own natural vices, but greatly damaged
+by those that in a manner they adopt, as it might be <span lang="la"><i>ex officio</i></span>.
+This latter course is unfortunately that taken by a vast number
+of the members of the bar all over the world, rendering them
+loose in their social morality, ready to lend themselves and their
+talents to the highest bidder, and causing them to be at first
+indifferent, and in the end blind, to the great features of right
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_389'>389</span>and wrong. These are the moralists who advance the doctrine
+that “the advocate has a right to act as his client would act;”
+while the class first named allow that “the advocate has a right
+to do what his client <em>has</em> a <em>right</em> to do,” and no more.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Perhaps there was not a single member of the profession present
+that night in the two little parlours of Mrs. Horton, who
+recognized the latter of these rules; or who did not, at need,
+practise on the former. As has been already said, these were
+the rowdies of the Duke’s county bar. They chewed, smoked,
+drank, and played, each and all coarsely. To things that were
+innocent in themselves they gave the aspect of guilt by their
+own manners. The doors were kept locked; even amid their
+coarsest jokes, their ribaldry, their oaths that were often revolting
+and painfully frequent, there was an uneasy watchfulness, as
+if they feared detection. There was nothing frank and manly
+in the deportment of these men. Chicanery, management, double-dealing,
+mixed up with the outbreakings of a coarse standard of
+manners, were visible in all they said or did, except, perhaps, at
+those moments when hypocrisy was paying its homage to virtue.
+This hypocrisy, however, had little, or at most a very indirect
+connection with anything religious. The offensive offshoots of
+the exaggerations that were so abounding among us half a century
+since, are giving place to hypocrisy of another school. The
+homage that was then paid to principles, however erroneous and
+forbidding, is now paid to the ballot-boxes. There was scarcely
+an individual around those card-tables, at which the play was so
+obviously for the stakes as to render the whole scene revolting,
+who would not have shrunk from having his amusements known.
+It would seem as if conscience consulted taste. Everything was
+coarse and offensive; the attitudes, oaths, conversation, liquors,
+and even the manner of drinking them. Apart from the dialogue,
+little was absolutely done that might not have been made to lose
+most of its repulsiveness, by adopting a higher school of manners;
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_390'>390</span>but of this these scions of a noble stock knew no more than they
+did of the parent stem.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It is scarcely necessary to say that both Williams and Timms
+were of this party. The relaxation was, in fact, in conformity
+with their tastes and practices; and each of these excrescences
+of a rich and beneficent soil counted on the meetings in <a id='corr390.6'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mrs'>Mrs.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_390.6'><ins class='correction' title='Mrs'>Mrs.</ins></a></span>
+Horton’s private rooms, as the more refined seek pleasure in the
+exercise of their tastes and habits.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I say, Timms,” bawled out an attorney of the name of
+Crooks—“You play’d a trump, sir—all right—go ahead—first
+rate—good play, that—ours dead. I say, Timms, you’re
+going to save Mary Monson’s neck. When I came here, I
+thought she was a case; but the prosecution is making out
+miserably.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What do you say to that, Williams?” put in Crooks’s partner,
+who was smoking, playing, and drinking, with occasional
+‘asides’ of swearing, all, as might be, at the same time. “I
+trump that, sir, by your leave—what do you say to that, Williams?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I say that this is not the court; and trying such a cause
+once ought to satisfy a reasonable man.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He’s afraid of showing his hand, which I am not,” put in
+another, exposing his cards as he spoke. “Williams always has
+some spare trumps, however, to get him out of all his difficulties.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, Williams has a spare trump, and there it is, giving me
+the trick,” answered the saucy lawyer, as coolly as if he had
+been engaged in an inferior slander-suit. “I shall be at Timms
+pretty much by the same process to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then you will do more than you have done to-day, Master
+Williams. This Mrs. Jane Pope <em>may be</em> a trump, but she is not
+the ace. I never knew a witness break down more completely.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We’ll find the means to set her up again—I think that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_391'>391</span>knave is yours, Green—yes, I now see my game, which is to
+take it with the queen—very much, Timms, as we shall beat
+you to-morrow. I keep my trump card always for the last play,
+you know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Come, come, Williams,” put in the oldest, member of the
+bar, a man whose passions were cooled by time, and who had
+more gravity than most of his companions—“Come, come, Williams,
+this is a trial for a life, and joking is a little out of place.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe there is no juror present, Mr. Marvin, which is all
+the reserve the law exacts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Although the law may tolerate this levity, feeling will not.
+The prisoner is a fine young woman; and for my part, though I
+wish to say nothing that may influence any one’s opinion, I have
+heard nothing yet to justify an indictment, much less a conviction.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams laid down his cards, rose, stretched his arms, gaped,
+and taking Timms by the arm, he led the latter from the room.
+Not content with this, the wary limb of the law continued to
+move forward, until he and his companion were in the open air.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is always better to talk secrets outside than inside of a
+house,” observed Williams, as soon as they were at a safe distance
+from the inn-door. “It is not too late yet, Timms—you
+must see how weak we are, and how bunglingly the District Attorney
+has led off. Half those jurors will sleep to-night with a
+feeling that Mary Monson has been hardly dealt by.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They may do the same to-morrow night, and every night in
+the month,” answered Timms.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not unless the arrangement is made. We have testimony
+enough to hang the governor.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Show us your list of witnesses, then, that we may judge of
+this for ourselves.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That would never do. They might be bought off for half
+the money that is necessary to take us out of the field. Five
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_392'>392</span>thousand dollars can be no great matter for such a woman and
+her friends.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Whom do you suppose to be her friends, Williams?—If you
+know them, you are better informed than her own counsel.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, and a pretty point <em>that</em> will make, when pressed against
+you. No, no, Timms; your client has been ill-advised, or she is
+unaccountably obstinate. She has friends, although you may not
+know who they are; and friends who can, and who <em>would</em> very
+promptly help her, if she would consent to ask their assistance.
+Indeed, I suspect she has cash enough on hand to buy us off.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Five thousand dollars is a large sum, Williams, and is not
+often to be found in Biberry gaol. But, if Mary Monson has
+these friends, name them, that we may apply for their assistance.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Harkee, Timms; you are not a man so ignorant of what is
+going on in the world, as to require to be told the letters of the
+alphabet. You know that there are extensive associations of
+rogues in this young country, as well as in most that are older.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What has that to do with Mary Monson and our case?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Everything. This Mary Monson has been sent here to get
+at the gold of the poor old dolt, who has not been able to conceal
+her treasure after it was hoarded. She made a sub-treasury of
+her stocking, and exhibited the coin, like any other sub-treasurer.
+Many persons like to look at it, just to feast their eyes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“More to finger it; and you are of the number, Williams!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I admit it. The weakness is general in the profession, I
+believe. But this is idle talk, and we are losing very precious
+time. Will you, or will you not, apply again to your client for
+the money?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Answer me candidly, a question or two, and I will do as you
+desire. You know, Williams, that we are old friends, and never
+had any serious difficulty since we have been called to the bar.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh, assuredly,” answered Williams, with an ironical smile
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_393'>393</span>that it might have been fortunate for the negotiation the obscurity
+concealed from his companion; “excellent friends from the beginning,
+Timms, and likely to continue so, I trust, to the last.
+Men who <em>know</em> each other as well as you and I, ought to be on
+the best of terms. For my part, I never harboured a wrangle
+at the bar in my mind five minutes after I left the court. Now
+for your question.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You surely do not set down Mary Monson as the stool
+pigeon of a set of York thieves!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Who, or what else can she be, Mr. Timms? Better educated,
+and belonging to an ‘upper ten’ in <a id='corr393.11'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='sic'>villany</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_393.11'><ins class='correction' title='sic'>villany</ins></a></span>, but of a company
+of rogues. Now, these knaves stand by each other much
+more faithfully than the body of the citizens stand by the law;
+and the five thousand will be forthcoming for the asking.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are you serious in wishing me to believe you think my client
+guilty!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here Williams made no bones of laughing outright. It is
+true that he suppressed the noise immediately, lest it should
+attract attention; but laugh he did, and with right good will.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Come, Timms, you have asked your question, and I leave
+you to answer it yourself. One thing I will say, however, in
+the way of admonition, which is this—we shall make out such a
+case against her to-morrow as would hang a governor, as I have
+already told you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe you’ve done your worst already—why not let me
+know the names of your witnesses?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You know the reason. We wish the whole sum ourselves,
+and have no fancy to its being scattered all over Duke’s. I give
+you my honour, Timms—and you know what <em>that</em> is—I give
+you my honour that we hold this testimony in reserve.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In which case the District Attorney will bring the witnesses
+on the stand; and we shall gain nothing, after all, by your withdrawal.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_394'>394</span>“The District Attorney has left the case very much to me. I
+have prepared his brief, and have taken care to keep to myself
+enough to turn the scales. If I quit, Mary Monson will be
+acquitted—if I stay, she will be hanged. A pardon for <em>her</em> will
+be out of the question—she is too high among the ‘upper ten’
+to expect <em>that</em>—besides, she is not an anti-renter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I wonder the thieves do not combine, as well as other folks,
+and control votes!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They do—these anti-renters belong to the gangs, and have
+already got their representatives in high places. They are ‘land-pirates,’
+while <em>your</em> client goes for the old stockings. The difference
+in principle is by no means important, as any clear-headed
+man may see. It is getting late, Timms.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I cannot believe that Mary Monson is the sort of person you
+take her for! Williams, I’ve always looked upon you, and
+treated you, as a friend. You may remember how I stood by
+you in the Middlebury case?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly—you did your duty by me in that matter, and I
+have not forgot it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The cause alluded to was an action for a “breach of promise,”
+which, at one time, threatened all of Williams’s “future usefulness,”
+as it is termed; but which was put to sleep in the end by
+means of Timms’s dexterity in managing the “out-door” points
+of a difficult case.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, then, be <em>my</em> friend in this matter. I will be honest
+with you, and acknowledge that, as regards my client, I have
+had—that is provided she is acquitted, and her character comes
+out fair—that I have had—and <em>still</em> have, for that matter—what——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are called ‘ulterior views.’ I understand you, Timms, and
+have suspected as much these ten days. A great deal depends on
+what you consider a fair character. Taking the best view of her
+situation, Mary Monson will have been tried for murder and arson.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_395'>395</span>“Not if acquitted of the first. I have the District Attorney’s
+promise to consent to a <span lang="la"><i>nolle prosequi</i></span> on the last indictment, if
+we traverse the first successfully.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In which case Mary Monson will have been tried for murder
+only,” returned Williams, smiling. “Do you really think, Timms,
+that your heart is soft enough to receive and retain an impression
+as deep as that made by the seal of the court?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If I thought, as you do, that my client is or has been connected
+with thieves, and burglars, and counterfeiters, I would not
+think of her for a moment as a wife. But there is a vast difference
+between a person overtaken by sudden temptation and one
+who sins on calculation, and by regular habit. Now, in my
+own case, I sometimes act wrong—yes, I admit as much as
+that——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is quite unnecessary,” said Williams, drily.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is not according to Christian doctrine to visit old offences
+on a sinner’s head, when repentance has washed away the crime.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which means, Timms, that you will marry Mary Monson,
+although she may be guilty; provided always, that two very important
+contingencies are favourably disposed of.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What contingencies do you allude to, Williams? I know
+of none.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“One is, provided she will have you; the other is, provided
+she is not hanged.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As to the first, I have no great apprehension; women that
+have been once before a court, on a trial for a capital offence, are
+not very particular. On my side, it will be easy enough to persuade
+the public that, as counsel in a most interesting case, I
+became intimately acquainted with her virtues, touched by her
+misfortunes, captivated by her beauty and accomplishments, and
+finally overcome by her charms. I don’t think, Williams, that
+such an explanation would fail of its effect, before a caucus even.
+Men are always favourably disposed to those they think worse
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_396'>396</span>off than they are themselves. A good deal of capital is made
+on that principle.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not know that it would. Now-a-days the elections
+generally turn more on public principles than on private conduct.
+The Americans are a most forgiving people, unless you tell them
+the <em>truth</em>. <em>That</em> they will not pardon.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nor any other nation, I fancy. Human natur’ revolts at it.
+But <em>that</em>”—snapping his fingers—“for your elections; it is the
+caucuses that I lay myself out to meet. Give me the <em>nomination</em>,
+and I am as certain of my seat as, in the old countries, a first-born
+is to his father’s throne.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is pretty safe as a rule, I allow; but nominations sometimes
+fail.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not when regular, and made on proper principles. A nomination
+is almost as good as popularity.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Often better; for men are just asses enough to work in the
+collar of party, even when overloaded. But all this time the
+night is wearing away. If I go into court in the morning, it
+will be too late. This thing must be settled at once, and that in
+a very explicit manner.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I wish I knew what you have picked up concerning Mary
+Monson’s early life!” said Timms, like a man struggling with doubt.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have heard the rumour as well as myself. Some say
+she is a wife already; while others think her a rich widow. My
+opinion you know; I believe her to be the stool-pigeon of a York
+gang, and no better than she should be.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was plain language to be addressed to a lover; and Williams
+meant it to be so. He had that sort of regard for Timms
+which proceeds from a community in practices, and was disposed
+to regret that a man with whom he had been so long connected,
+either as an associate or an antagonist, should marry a woman of
+the pursuits that he firmly believed marked the career of Mary
+Monson.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_397'>397</span>The gentlemen of the bar are no more to be judged by appearances
+than the rest of mankind. They will wrangle, and seem
+to be at sword’s points with each other, at one moment; when
+the next may find them pulling together in harmony in the next
+case on the calendar. It was under this sort of feeling that
+Williams had a species of friendship for his companion.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I will try, Williams,” said the last, turning towards the
+gaol. “Yes, I will make one more trial.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do, my good fellow—and, Timms—remember one thing,
+you can never marry a woman that has been hanged.”</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_398'>398</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“The time is precious; I’ll about it straight.”</div>
+ <div class='line in31'><cite>Earl of Essex.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The gaol presented a very different scene. A solemn stillness
+reigned in its gallery; and even good Mrs. Gott had become
+weary with the excitement of the day, and had retired to rest.
+A single lamp was burning in the cell; and dark forms were
+dimly visible in the passage, without the direct influence of its
+rays. Two were seated, while a third paced the stone but carpeted
+pavement, with a slow and quiet step. The first were the
+shadowy forms of Anna Updyke and Marie Moulin; the last,
+that of Mary Monson. For half an hour the prisoner had been
+on her knees, praying for strength to endure a burthen that surpassed
+her expectations; and, as is usual with those who look
+above for aid, more especially women, she was reaping the benefit
+of her petition. Not a syllable had she uttered, however, since
+quitting the cell. Her voice, soft, melodious, and lady-like, was
+now heard for the first time.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“My situation is most extraordinary, Anna,” she said; “it
+proves almost too much for my strength! This has been a terrible
+day, calm as I may have appeared; and I fear that the
+morrow will be still harder to be borne. There is an expression
+about the eyes of that man, Williams, that both alarms and disgusts
+me. I am to expect in him a most fiery foe.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, then, do you not escape from scenes for which you are
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_399'>399</span>so unsuited and leave this saucy Williams to himself, and his
+schemes of plunder?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That would not do. Several sufficient reasons exist for
+remaining. Were I to avail myself of the use of the keys I
+possess, and quit the gaol not to return, good Mrs. Gott and her
+husband would probably both be ruined. Although they are
+ignorant of what money and ingenuity have done for me, it would
+be difficult to induce the world to believe them innocent. But a
+still higher reason for remaining is the vindication of my own
+character.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No one will think of confounding <em>you</em> with Mary Monson;
+and by going abroad, as you say it is your intention to do, you
+would effectually escape from even suspicion.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You little know the world, my dear. I see that all the
+useful lessons I gave you, as your school-mamma, are already
+forgotten. The six years between us in age have given me an
+experience that tells me to do nothing of the sort. Nothing is
+so certain to follow us as a bad name; though the good one is
+easily enough forgotten. As Mary Monson, I am indicted for
+these grievous crimes; as Mary Monson will I be acquitted of
+them. I feel an affection for the character, and shall not degrade
+it by any act as base as that of flight.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why not, then, resort to the other means you possess, and
+gain a speedy triumph in open court?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As Anna put this question, Mary Monson came beneath the
+light and stopped. Her handsome face was in full view, and her
+friend saw an expression on it that gave her pain. It lasted only
+a moment; but that moment was long enough to induce Anna to
+wish she had not seen it. On several previous occasions this
+same expression had rendered her uneasy; but the evil look was
+soon forgotten in the quiet elegance of manners that borrowed
+charms from a countenance usually as soft as the evening sky in
+September. Ere she resumed her walk, Mary Monson shook her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_400'>400</span>head in dissent from the proposition of her friend, and passed on,
+a shadowy but graceful form, as she went down the gallery.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It would be premature,” she said, “and I should fail of my
+object. I will not rob that excellent Mr. Dunscomb of his honest
+triumph. How calm and gentlemanlike he was to-day; yet how
+firm and prompt, when it became necessary to show these qualities.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Uncle Tom is all that is good; and we love him as we would
+love a parent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A pause succeeded, during which Mary Monson walked along
+the gallery once, in profound thought.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yours promises to be a happy future, my dear,” she said.
+“Of suitable ages, tempers, stations, country—yes, country; for
+an American woman should never marry a foreigner!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna Updyke did not reply; and a silence succeeded that was
+interrupted by the rattling of a key in the outer door.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is your new father, Anna, come to see you home. Thank
+you, kind-hearted and most generous-minded girl. I feel the
+sacrifices that you and your friend are making in my behalf, and
+shall carry the recollection of them to the grave. On her, I had
+no claims at all; and on you, but those that are very slight.
+You have been to me, indeed, most excellent friends, and a great
+support when both were most needed. Of my own sex, and of
+the same social level, I do not now see how I should have got on
+without you. Mrs. Gott is kindness and good-nature themselves;
+but she is so different from us in a thousand things, that I have
+often been pained by it. In our intercourse with you, how different!
+Knowing so much, you pry into nothing. Not a question,
+not a look to embarrass me; and with a perfect and saint-like
+reliance on my innocence, were I a sister, your support could not
+be more warm-hearted or firm.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>After a short pause, in which this singular young woman
+smiled, and appeared to be talking to herself, she continued,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_401'>401</span>after kissing her companion most affectionately for good-night,
+and walking with her as far as the door of the gallery, where it
+had been announced that the doctor was waiting for his step-daughter—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I wish I knew whether the same faith goes through the connection—Mr.
+John Wilmeter?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! He is persuaded of your entire innocence. It was he
+who excited so much interest in me, on your behalf, before I had
+the least idea of our having ever met before.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He is a noble-hearted young man, and has many excellent
+qualities—a little romantic, but none the worse for that, my
+dear, as you will find in the end. Alas! alas! Those marriages
+that are made over a rent-roll, or an inventory, need a great deal
+of something very different from what they possess, to render
+them happy! Mr. Wilmeter has told me that <em>no evidence</em>
+could make him believe in my guilt. There is a confidence that
+might touch a woman’s heart, Anna, did circumstances admit of
+such a thing. I like that Michael Millington, too; the <em>name</em> is
+dear to me, as is the race of which he comes. No matter; the world
+<span lang="fr"><i>va son train</i></span>, let us regret and repine as we may. And Uncle
+Tom, Anna—what do you think of his real opinion? Is it in
+my favour or not?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna Updyke had detected in Dunscomb a disposition to
+doubt, and was naturally averse to communicating a fact so unpleasant
+to her friend. Kissing the latter affectionately, she
+hurried away to meet McBrain, already waiting for her without.
+In quitting the dwelling of the building annexed to the gaol,
+the doctor and Anna met Timms hurrying forward to seek an
+interview with his client before she retired to rest. An application
+at once obtained permission for the limb of the law to
+enter.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have come, Miss Mary,” as Timms now called his client,
+“on what I fear will prove a useless errand; but which I have
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_402'>402</span>thought it my duty to see performed, as your best friend, and
+one of your legal advisers. You have already heard what I had
+to say on the subject of a certain proposal of the next of kin to
+withdraw from the prosecution, which will carry with him this
+Williams, with whom I should think you would, by this time,
+be heartily disgusted. I come now to say that this offer is
+repeated with a good deal of emphasis, and that you have still
+an opportunity of lessening the force that is pressing on your
+interests, by at least one-half. Williams may well count for
+more than half of the vigour and shrewdness of what is doing
+for the State in your case.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The proposal must be more distinctly made, and you must
+let me have a clear view of what is expected from me, Mr. Timms,
+before I can give any reply,” said Mary Monson. “But you
+may wish to be alone with me before you are more explicit. I
+will order my woman to go into the cell.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It might be more prudent were we to go into the cell ourselves,
+and leave your domestic outside. These galleries carry
+sounds like ear-trumpets; and we never know who may be our
+next neighbour in a gaol.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson quietly assented to the proposal, calling to her
+woman in French to remain outside, in the dark, while she profited
+by the light of the lamp in the cell. Timms followed, and
+closed the door.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In size, form, and materials, the cell of Mary Monson was
+necessarily like that of every other inmate of the gaol. Its sides,
+top and bottom, were of massive stones; the two last being flags
+of great dimensions. But taste and money had converted even
+this place into an apartment that was comfortable in all respects
+but that of size. Two cells opening on the section of gallery
+that the consideration of Mrs. Gott had caused to be screened
+off, and appropriated to the exclusive use of the fair prisoner,
+one had been furnished as a sleeping apartment, while that in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_403'>403</span>which Timms was now received had more the air of a sort of
+<span lang="fr"><i>boudoir</i></span>. It was well carpeted, like all the rest of what might
+be termed the suite; and had a variety of those little elegancies
+that women of cultivated tastes and ample means are almost certain
+to gather about them. The harp which had occasioned so
+much scandal, as well as a guitar, stood near by; and chairs of
+different forms and various degrees of comfort, crowded the room,
+perhaps to superfluity. As this was the first time Timms had
+been admitted to the cell, he was all eyes, gazing about him at
+the numerous signs of wealth it contained, with inward satisfaction.
+It was a minute after he was desired to be seated before
+he could comply, so lively was the curiosity to be appeased. It
+was during this minute that Marie Moulin lighted four candles,
+that were already arranged in bronzed candlesticks, making a
+blaze of light for that small room. These candles were of spermaceti,
+the ordinary American substitute for wax. Nothing that
+he then saw, or had ever seen in his intercourse with his client,
+so profoundly impressed Timms as this luxury of light. Accustomed
+himself to read and write by a couple of small inferior
+articles in tallow, when he did not use a lamp, there seemed to
+be something regal to his unsophisticated imagination, in this
+display of brilliancy.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Whether Mary Monson had a purpose to answer in giving
+Timms so unusual a reception, we shall leave the reader to discover
+by means of his own sagacity; but circumstances might
+well lead one to the conclusion that she had. There was a satisfied
+look, as she glanced around the cell and surveyed its arrangements,
+that possibly led fairly enough to such an inference.
+Nevertheless, her demeanour was perfectly quiet, betraying none
+of the fidgeting uneasiness of an underbred person, lest all might
+not be right. Every arrangement was left to the servant; and
+when Marie Moulin finally quitted the cell and closed the door
+behind her, every thought of the apartment and what it contained
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_404'>404</span>seemed to vanish from the mind of her extraordinary
+mistress.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Before you proceed to communicate the purpose of your visit,
+Mr. Timms,” Mary Monson said, “I shall ask permission to put
+a few questions of my own, touching the state of our <a id='corr404.5'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='cause['>cause.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_404.5'><ins class='correction' title='cause['>cause.</ins></a></span>
+Have we gained or lost by this day’s proceedings?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Most clearly gained, as every man at the bar will confirm by
+his opinion.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That has been my own way of thinking; and I am glad to
+hear it corroborated by such competent judges. I confess the
+prosecution does not seem to me to show the strength it really
+possesses. This Jane Pope made a miserable blunder about the
+piece of coin.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She has done the other side no great good, certainly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How stands the jury, Mr. Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Although this question was put so directly, Timms heard it
+with uneasiness. Nor did he like the expression of Mary Monson’s
+eyes, which seemed to regard him with a keenness that
+might possibly imply distrust. But it was necessary to answer;
+though he did so with caution, and with a due regard to his own
+safety.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is pretty well,” he said, “though not quite as much
+opposed to capital punishment as I had hoped for. We challenged
+off one of the sharpest chaps in the county, and have got in his
+place a man who is pretty much under my thumb.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And the stories—the reports—have they been well circulated?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A little too well, I’m afraid. That concerning your having
+married a Frenchman, and having run away from him, has gone
+through all the lower towns of Duke’s like wild-fire. It has even
+reached the ears of ’Squire Dunscomb, and will be in the York
+papers to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A little start betrayed the surprise of the prisoner; and a look
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_405'>405</span>accompanied it, which would seem to denote dissatisfaction that a
+tale put in circulation by herself, as it would now appear, had
+gone quite so far.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Dunscomb!” she repeated, musingly. “Anna Updyke’s
+uncle Tom; and one whom such a story may very well set thinking.
+I wish it had not reached <em>him</em>, of all men, Mr. Timms.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“If I may judge of his opinions by some little acts and expressions
+that have escaped him, I am inclined to think he
+believes the story to be, in the main, true.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson smiled; and, as was much her wont when thinking
+intensely, her lips moved; even a low muttering became
+audible to a person as near as her companion then was.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is now time, Mr. Timms, to set the other story in motion,”
+she said, quickly. “Let one account follow the other; that will
+distract people’s belief. We must be active in this matter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There is less necessity for our moving in the affair, as Williams
+has got a clue to it, by some means or other; and his men
+will spread it far and near, long before the cause goes to the
+jury.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is fortunate!” exclaimed the prisoner, actually clapping
+her pretty gloved hands together in delight. “A story as terrible
+as <em>that</em> must react powerfully, when its falsehood comes to be
+shown. I regard that tale as the cleverest of all our schemes,
+Mr. Timms.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why—yes—that is—I think, Miss Mary, it may be set
+down as the <em>boldest</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And this saucy Williams, as you call him, has got hold of it
+already, and believes it true!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is not surprising; there are so many small and probable
+facts accompanying it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose you know what Shakspeare calls such an invention,
+Mr. Timms?” said Mary Monson, smiling.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am not particularly acquainted with that author, ma’am
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_406'>406</span>I know there was such a writer, and that he was thought a good
+deal of, in his day; but I can’t say I have ever read him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The beautiful prisoner turned her large expressive blue eyes
+on her companion with a gaze of wonder; but her breeding prevented
+her from uttering what she certainly thought and felt.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Shakspeare is a writer very generally esteemed,” she answered,
+after one moment of muttering, and one moment to control
+herself; “I believe he is commonly placed at the head of
+our English literature, if not at the head of that of all times
+and nations—Homer, perhaps, excepted.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What! higher, do you think, Miss Mary, than Blackstone
+and Kent!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Those are authors of whom I know nothing, Mr. Timms;
+but now, sir, I will listen to your errand here to-night.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is the old matter. Williams has been talking to me again,
+touching the five thousand dollars.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Williams has my answer. If five thousand <em>cents</em> would
+buy him off, he should not receive them from me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was said with a frown; and then it was that the observer
+had an opportunity of tracing in a face otherwise so lovely, the
+lines that indicate self-will, and a spirit not easily controlled.
+Alas! that women should ever so mistake their natural means to
+influence and guide, as to have recourse to the exercise of agents
+that they rarely wield with effect; and ever with a sacrifice of
+womanly character and womanly grace. The person who would
+draw the sex from the quiet scenes that they so much embellish,
+to mingle in the strifes of the world; who would place them in
+stations that nature has obviously intended men should occupy,
+is not their real friend, any more than the weak adviser who
+resorts to reputed specifics when the knife alone can effect a cure.
+The Creator intended woman for a “help-meet,” and not for the
+head of the family circle; and most fatally ill-judging are the
+laws that would fain disturb the order of a domestic government
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_407'>407</span>which is directly derived from divine wisdom as from divine
+benevolence.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I told him as much, Miss Mary,” answered Timms; “but
+he does not seem disposed to take ‘no’ for an answer. Williams
+has the true scent for a dollar.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am quite certain of an acquittal, Mr. Timms; and having
+endured so much, and hazarded so much, I do not like to throw
+away the triumph of my approaching victory. There is a powerful
+excitement in my situation; and I like excitement to weakness,
+perhaps. No, no; my success must not be tarnished by
+any such covert bargain. I will not listen to the proposal for
+an instant!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understand that the raising of the sum required would
+form no particular obstacle to the arrangement?” asked Timms,
+in a careless sort of way that was intended to conceal the real
+interest he took in the reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“None at all. The money might be in his hands before the
+court sits in the morning; but it never shall be, as coming from
+me. Let Mr. Williams know this definitively; and tell him to
+do his worst.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms was a little surprised, and a good deal uneasy at this
+manifestation of a spirit of defiance, which could produce no
+good, and which might be productive of evil. While he was
+delighted to hear, for the fourth or fifth time, how easy it would
+be for his fair client to command a sum as large as that demanded,
+he secretly determined not to let the man who had sent him on
+his present errand know the temper in which it had been received.
+Williams was sufficiently dangerous as it was; and he saw all the
+hazard of giving him fresh incentives to increase his exertions.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And now, as this matter is finally disposed of, Mr. Timms—for
+I desire that it may not be again mentioned to me”—resumed
+the accused, “let us say a word more on the subject of our new
+report. Your agent has set on foot a story that I belong to a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_408'>408</span>gang of wretches who are combined to prey on society; and that,
+in this character, I came into Duke’s to carry out one of its nefarious
+schemes?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is the substance of the rumour we have started at your
+own desire; though I could wish it were not quite so strong, and
+that there were more time for the reaction.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The strength of the rumour is its great merit; and, as for
+time, we have abundance for our purposes. Reaction is the great
+power of popularity, as I have heard, again and again. It is
+always the most effective, too, at the turn of the tide. Let the
+public once get possessed with the notion that a rumour so injurious
+has been in circulation at the expense of one in my cruel
+condition, and the current of feeling will set the other way in a
+torrent that nothing can arrest!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I take the idea, Miss Mary, which is well enough for certain
+cases, but a little too hazardous for this. Suppose it should be
+ascertained that this report came from us?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It never can be, if the caution I directed was observed. You
+have not neglected my advice, Mr. Timms?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The attorney had not; and great had been his surprise at the
+ingenuity and <em>finesse</em> manifested by this singular woman, in setting
+afloat a report that would certainly act to her injury, unless arrested
+and disproved at a moment most critical in her future fate. Nevertheless,
+in obedience to Mary Monson’s positive commands,
+this very bold measure had been undertaken; and Timms was
+waiting with impatience for the information by means of which
+he was to counteract these self-inflicted injuries, and make them
+the instruments of good, on the reaction.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>If that portion of society which takes delight in gossip could
+be made to understand the real characters of those to whom they
+commit the control of their opinions, not to say principles, there
+would be far more of reserve and self-respect observed in the
+submission to this social evil, than there is at present. Malice,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_409'>409</span>the inward impulses of the propagators of a lie, and cupidity,
+are at the bottom of half the tales that reach our ears; and in
+those cases in which the world in its ignorance fancies it has
+some authority for what it says, it as often happens that some
+hidden motive is at the bottom of the exhibition as the one which
+seems so apparent. There are a set of vulgar vices that may be
+termed the “stereotyped,” they lie so near the surface of human
+infirmities. They who are most subject to their influence always
+drag these vices first into the arena of talk; and fully one-half
+of that of this nature which we hear, has its origin as much in
+the reflective nature of the gossip’s own character, as in any facts
+truly connected with the acts of the subjects of his or her stories.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>But Mary Monson was taking a far higher flight than the
+circulation of an injurious rumour. She believed herself to be
+putting on foot a master-stroke of policy. In her intercourse
+with Timms, so much was said of the power of opinion, that
+she had passed hours, nay days, in the study of the means to
+control and counteract it. Whence she obtained her notion
+of the virtue of reaction it might not be easy to say; but her
+theory was not without its truth; and it is certain that her means
+of producing it were of remarkable simplicity and ingenuity.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Having settled the two preliminaries of the rumour and of
+Williams’s proposition, Timms thought the moment favourable
+to making a demonstration in his own affairs. Love he did not
+yet dare to propose openly; though he had now been, for some
+time, making covert demonstrations towards the tender passion.
+In addition to the motive of cupidity, one of great influence with
+such a man, Timms’s heart, such as it was, had really yielded to
+the influence of a beauty, manners, accomplishments, and information,
+all of a class so much higher than he had been accustomed
+to meet with, as to be subjects of wonder with him, not to
+say of adoration. This man had his affections as well as another;
+and, while John Wilmeter had submitted to a merely passing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_410'>410</span>inclination, as much produced by the interest he took in an unknown
+female’s situation as by any other cause, poor Timms had
+been hourly falling more and more in love. It is a tribute to
+nature, that this passion can be, and is, felt by all. Although a
+purifying sentiment, the corrupt and impure can feel its power,
+and, in a greater or less degree, submit to its influence, though
+their homage may be tainted by the grosser elements that are so
+largely mixed up with the compound of their characters. We
+may have occasion to show hereafter how far the uncouth attorney
+of Mary Monson succeeded in his suit with his fair client.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id005'>
+<img src='images/i_414.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_411'>411</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXV.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“I challenge envy,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Malice, and all the practices of hell,</div>
+ <div class='line'>To censure all the actions of my past</div>
+ <div class='line'>Unhappy life, and taint me if they can.”</div>
+ <div class='line in24'><cite>The Orphan.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>It is to be presumed that Timms found the means to communicate
+to Williams the rejection of the latter’s offer, before the
+court met next morning. It is certain that the counsel associated
+with the Attorney-General manifested unusual zeal in the performance
+of duties that most men would have found unpleasant,
+if not painful, and that he was captious, short, and ill-natured.
+Just as Mary Monson came within the bar, a letter was put into
+the hands of Dunscomb, who quietly broke the seal, and read it
+twice, as the observant Timms fancied; then put it in his pocket,
+with a mien so undisturbed that no mere looker-on would have
+suspected its importance. The letter was from Millington, and
+it announced a general want of success in his mission. The
+whereabouts of M. de Larocheforte could not be ascertained; and
+those who knew anything about his movements, were of opinion
+that he was travelling in the West, accompanied by his fair, accomplished,
+and affluent young consort. None of those who
+would naturally have heard of such an event, had it occurred,
+could say there had ever been a separation between the French
+husband and the American wife. Millington, himself, had never
+seen his kinswoman, there being a coolness of long standing between
+the two branches of the family, and could give little or no
+information on the subject. In a word, he could discover nothing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_412'>412</span>to enable him to carry out the clue obtained in the rumour; while,
+on the other hand, he found a certain set, who occupied themselves
+a good deal with intelligence of that sort, were greatly disposed
+to believe the report, set on foot by herself, that Mary
+Monson was a stool-pigeon of a gang of marauders, and doubtless
+guilty of everything of which she had been accused. Millington
+would remain in town, however, another day, and endeavour to
+push his inquiries to some useful result. Cool, clear-headed, and
+totally without romance, Dunscomb knew that a better agent
+than his young friend could not be employed, and was fain to
+wait patiently for the discoveries he might eventually succeed in
+making. In the mean time the trial proceeded.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Clerk,” said his honour, “let the jury be called.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was done, and Mary Monson’s lips moved, while a lurking
+smile lighted her countenance, as her eyes met the sympathy
+that was expressed in the countenances of several of the grave
+men who had been drawn as arbiters, in her case, between life
+and death. To her it was apparent that her sex, her youth, perhaps
+her air and beauty, stood her friends, and that she might
+largely count on the compassion of that small but important body
+of men. One of her calculations had succeeded to the letter.
+The tale of her being a stool-pigeon had been very actively circulated,
+with certain additions and embellishments that it was
+very easy to disprove; and another set of agents had been hard
+at work, all the morning, in brushing away such of the collateral
+circumstances as had, at first, been produced to confirm the main
+story, and which, in now being pulled to pieces as of no account,
+did not fail to cast a shade of the darkest doubt over the whole
+rumour. All this Mary Monson probably understood, and understanding,
+enjoyed; a vein of wild wilfulness certainly running
+through her character, leading in more directions than one.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hope there will be no delay on account of witnesses,” observed
+the judge. “Time is very precious.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_413'>413</span>“We are armed at all points, your honour, and intend to bring
+the matter to an early conclusion,” answered Williams, casting
+one of those glances at the prisoner which had obtained for him
+the merited <span lang="fr"><i>sobriquet</i></span> of “saucy.” “Crier, call Samuel Burton.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms fairly started. This was breaking ground in a new
+spot, and was producing testimony from a source that he much
+dreaded. The Burtons had been the nearest neighbours of the
+Goodwins, and were so nearly on a social level with them, as to
+live in close and constant communication. These Burtons consisted
+of the man, his wife, and three maiden sisters. At one
+time, the last had conversed much on the subject of the murders;
+but, to Timms’ great discontent, they had been quite dumb of
+late. This had prevented his putting in practice a method of
+anticipating testimony, that is much in vogue, and which he had
+deliberately attempted with these sometime voluble females. As
+the reader may not be fully initiated in the mysteries of that
+sacred and all-important master of the social relations, the law,
+we shall set forth the manner in which justice is often bolstered,
+when its interests are cared for by practitioners of the Timms’
+and Williams’ school.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>No sooner is it ascertained that a particular individual has a
+knowledge of an awkward fact, than these worthies of the bar set
+to work to extract the dangerous information from him. This is
+commonly attempted, and often effected, by inducing the witness
+to relate what he knows, and by leading him on to make statements
+that, on being sworn to in court, will either altogether invalidate
+his testimony, or throw so much doubt on it as to leave
+it of very little value. As the agents employed to attain this
+end are not very scrupulous, there is great danger that their imaginations
+may supply the defects in the statements, and substitute
+words and thoughts that the party never uttered. It is so easy
+to mistake another’s meaning, with even the best intentions, that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_414'>414</span>we are not to be surprised if this should seriously happen when
+the disposition is to mislead. With the parties to suits, this artifice
+is often quite successful, admissions being obtained, or supposed
+to be obtained, that they never, for an instant, intended to
+make. In the states where speculation has cornered men, and
+left them loaded with debt, these devices of the eaves-droppers
+and suckers are so common, as to render their testimony no immaterial
+feature in nearly every cause of magnitude that is tried.
+In such a state of society it is, indeed, unsafe for a suitor to open
+his lips on his affairs, lest some one near him be employed to
+catch up his words, and carry them into court with shades of
+meaning gathered from his own imagination.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At first, Timms was under the impression that the Burtons
+were going to sustain the defence, and he was placing himself on
+the most amiable footing with the females, three of whom might
+very reasonably be placed within the category of matrimony with
+this rising lawyer; but, it was not long ere he ascertained that
+Williams was getting to be intimate, and had proved to be a successful
+rival. Davis, the nephew and heir of the Goodwins, was
+a single man, too, and it is probable that his frequent visits to
+the dwelling of the Burtons had a beneficial influence on his own
+interests. Let the cause be what it might, the effect was clearly
+to seal the lips of the whole family, not a member of which could
+be induced, by any art practised by the agents of Timms, to utter
+a syllable on a subject that now really seemed to be forbidden.
+When, therefore, Burton appeared on the stand, and was sworn,
+the two counsel for the defence waited for him to open his lips,
+with a profound and common interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Burton knew the deceased, had lived all his life near them,
+was at home the night of the fire, went to assist the old people,
+saw the two skeletons, had no doubt they were the remains of
+Peter Goodwin and his wife, observed the effects of a heavy blow
+across the foreheads of each, the same that was still to be seen,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_415'>415</span>inferred that this blow had destroyed them, or so far stunned
+them as to leave them incapable of escaping from the fire.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This witness was then questioned on the subject of the stocking,
+and Mrs. Goodwin’s hoard of money. He had seen the
+stocking but once, had often heard it mentioned by his sisters,
+did not think his wife had ever alluded to it, did not know the
+amount of the gold, but supposed it might be very considerable,
+saw the bureau examined, and knew that the stocking could not
+be found. In a word, his testimony in chief went generally to
+sustain the impression that prevailed relative to the murders,
+though it is unnecessary to repeat it in this form, as the cross-examination
+will better explain his statements and opinions.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Burton,” said Dunscomb, “you knew the Goodwins
+well?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very well, sir. As well as near neighbours generally know
+each other.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Can you swear that those are the skeletons of Peter and
+Dorothy Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can swear that I <em>believe</em> them to be such—have no doubt
+of the fact.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Point out that which you suppose to be the skeleton of Peter
+Goodwin.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This request embarrassed the witness. In common with all
+around him, he had no other clue to his facts than the circumstances
+under which these vestiges of mortality had been found,
+and he did not know what ought to be his reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose the shortest of the skeletons to be Peter Goodwin’s,
+and the longest that of his wife,” he at length answered.
+“Peter was not as tall as Dorothy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Which is the shortest of these remains?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That I could not say, without measuring. I know that
+Goodwin was not as tall as his wife by half an inch, for I have
+seen them measure.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_416'>416</span>“Then you would say that, in your opinion, the longest of
+these two skeletons is that of Dorothy Goodwin, and the shortest
+that of her husband?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir; that is my opinion—formed to the best of my
+knowledge. I have seen them measure.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was this measurement accurate?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very much so. They used to dispute about their height,
+and they measured several times, when I was by; generally in
+their stocking feet, and once barefoot.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The difference being half an inch in favour of the wife?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, as near as could be; for I was umpire more than
+once.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did Peter Goodwin and his wife live happily together?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Tolerable—much as other married folks get along.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Explain what you mean by that.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, there’s ups and downs, I suppose, in all families.
+Dorothy was high-tempered, and Peter was sometimes cross-grained.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you mean that they quarrelled?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They got r’iled with each other, now and then.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was Peter Goodwin a sober man?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The witness now appeared to be bothered. He looked around
+him, and meeting everywhere with countenances which evidently
+reflected ‘yes,’ he had not the moral courage to run counter to
+public opinion, and say ‘no.’ It is amazing what a tyrant this concentration
+of minds gets to be over those who are not very clear-headed
+themselves, and who are not constituted, morally, to resist
+its influence. It almost possesses a power to persuade these persons
+not to put faith in their own senses, and disposes them to
+believe what they hear, rather than what they have seen. Indeed,
+one effect is to cause them to see with the eyes of others.
+As the ‘neighbours,’ those inquisitors who know so much of persons
+of their association and intimacy, and so little of all others,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_417'>417</span>very generally fancied Peter a sober man, Burton scarce knew
+what to answer. Circumstances had made him acquainted with
+the delinquency of the old man, but his allegations would not be
+sustained were he to speak the whole truth, since Peter had succeeded
+in keeping his infirmity from being generally known. To
+a man like the witness, it was easier to sacrifice the truth than
+to face a neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose he was much as others,” answered Burton, after
+a delay that caused some surprise. “He was human, and had a
+human natur’. Independence days, and other rejoicings, I’ve
+known him give in more than the temperance people think is
+quite right; but I shouldn’t say he was downright intemperate.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“He drank to excess, then, on occasions?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Peter had a very weak head, which was his greatest difficulty.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you ever count the money in Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I never did. There was gold and paper; but how much I
+do not know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you see any strangers in or about the house of the
+Goodwins, the morning of the fire?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes; two strange men were there, and were active in helping
+the prisoner out of the window, and afterwards in getting
+out the furniture. They were very particular in saving Mary
+Monson’s property.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Were those strangers near the bureau?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not that I know. I helped carry the bureau out myself;
+and I was present afterwards in court when it was examined for
+the money. We found none.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What became of those strangers?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I cannot tell you. They were lost to me in the confusion.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Had you ever seen them before?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Never.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nor since?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_418'>418</span>“No, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Will you have the goodness to take that rod, and tell me
+what is the difference in length between the two skeletons?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I trust, your honour, that this is testimony which will not
+be received,” put in Williams. “The fact is before the jury,
+and they can take cognizance of it for themselves.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb smiled as he answered—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The zeal of the learned gentleman runs ahead of his knowledge
+of the rules of evidence. Does he expect the jury to
+measure the remains; or are we to show the fact by means of
+witnesses?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is a cross-examination; and the question is one in chief.
+The witness belongs to the defence, if the question is to be put
+at all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think not, your honour. The witness has testified, in chief,
+that he believes these remains to be those of Peter and Dorothy
+Goodwin; he has further said, on his cross-examination, that
+Dorothy was half an inch taller than Peter; we now wish to put
+to the test the accuracy of the first opinion, by comparing the
+two facts—his knowledge of the difference by the former measurement
+as compared with the present. It has been said that
+these two skeletons are very nearly of a length. We wish the
+truth to be seen.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The witness will answer the question,” said the judge.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I doubt the power of the court to compel a witness to obtain
+facts in this irregular mode,” observed the pertinacious Williams.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You can note your exceptions, brother Williams,” returned
+the judge, smiling; “although it is not easy to see with what
+useful consequences. If the prisoner be acquitted, you can hardly
+expect to try her again; and, if convicted, the prosecution will
+scarcely wish to press any objection.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams, who was as much influenced by a bull-dog tenacity,
+as by any other motive, now submitted; and Burton took the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_419'>419</span>rod and measured the skeletons, an office he might have declined,
+most probably, had he seen fit. The spectators observed surprise
+in his countenance; and he was seen to repeat the measurement,
+seemingly with more care.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, sir, what is the difference in the length of those
+skeletons?” inquired Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I make it about an inch and a half, if these marks are to be
+relied on,” was the slow, cautious, well-considered reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you now say that you believe these skeletons to be the
+remains of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Whose else can they be? They were found on the spot
+where the old couple used to sleep.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I ask you to answer <em>my</em> question; I am not here to answer
+<em>yours</em>. Do you still say that you believe these to be the skeletons
+of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am a good deal non-plussed by this measurement—though
+the flesh, and skin, and muscles, may have made a considerable
+difference in life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly,” said Williams, with one of his withering sneers—sneers
+that had carried many a cause purely by their impudence
+and sarcasm—“Every one knows how much more muscle
+a man has than a woman. It causes the great difference in their
+strength. A bunch of muscles, more or less in the heel, would
+explain all this, and a great deal more.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How many persons dwelt in the house of Goodwin at the
+time of the fire?” demanded Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They tell me Mary Monson was there, and I saw her there
+during the fire; but I never saw her there before.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you know of any other inmate besides the old couple and
+the prisoner?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did see a strange woman about the house for a week or two
+before the fire, but I never spoke to her. They tell me she was
+High Dutch.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_420'>420</span>“Never mind what they <em>tell</em> you, Mr. Burton”—observed
+the judge—“testify only to what you <em>know</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you see this strange woman at the fire, or after the fire?”
+continued Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can’t say that I did. I remember to have looked round
+for her, too; but I did not find her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was her absence spoken of in the crowd at the time?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Something was said about it; but we were too much taken
+up with the old couple to think a great deal of this stranger.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This is an outline of Burton’s testimony; though the cross-examination
+was continued for more than an hour, and Williams
+had him again examined in chief. That intrepid practitioner
+contended that the defence had made Burton its own witness in
+all that related to the measurement of the skeletons; and that
+he had a right to a cross-examination. After all this contest, the
+only fact of any moment elicited from the witness related to the
+difference in stature between Goodwin and his wife, as has been
+stated already.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In the mean time, Timms ascertained that the last report set
+on foot by his own agents, at the suggestion of Mary Monson
+herself, was circulating freely; and, though it was directly opposed
+to the preceding rumour, which had found great favour
+with the gossips, this extravagant tale was most greedily swallowed.
+We conceive that those persons who are so constituted,
+morally, as to find pleasure in listening to the idle rumours that
+float about society, are objects of pity; their morbid desire to talk
+of the affairs of others being a disease that presses them down
+beneath the level they might otherwise occupy. With such persons,
+the probabilities go for nothing; and they are more inclined
+to give credit to a report that excites their interest, by running
+counter to all the known laws of human actions, than to give
+faith to its contradiction, when sustained by every reason that
+experience sustains. Thus was it on the present occasion. There
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_421'>421</span>was something so audacious in the rumour that Mary Monson
+belonged to a gang of rogues in town, and had been sent especially
+to rob the Goodwins, that vulgar curiosity found great
+delight in it; the individual who heard the report usually sending
+it on with additions of his own, that had their authority
+purely in the workings of a dull imagination. It is in that way
+that this great faculty of the mind is made to perform a double
+duty; which in the one case is as pure and ennobling, as in the
+other it is debasing and ignoble. The man of a rich imagination,
+he who is capable of throwing the charms of poetical feeling
+around the world in which we dwell, is commonly a man of truth.
+The high faculty which he possesses seems, in such cases, to be
+employed in ferreting out facts which, on proper occasions, he
+produces distinctly, manfully, and logically. On the other hand,
+there is a species of subordinate imagination that is utterly incapable
+of embellishing life with charms of any sort, and which
+delights in the false. This last is the imagination of the gossip.
+It obtains some modicum of fact, mixes it with large quantities
+of stupid fiction, delights in the idol it has thus fashioned out
+of its own head, and sends it abroad to find worshippers as dull,
+as vulgar-minded, and as uncharitable, as itself.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms grew frightened at the success of his client’s scheme,
+and felt the necessity of commencing the reaction at once, if the
+last were to have time in which to produce its effect. He had
+been warmly opposed to the project in the commencement, and
+had strenuously resisted its adoption; but Mary Monson would
+not listen to his objections. She even threatened to employ another,
+should he fail her. The conceit seemed to have taken a
+strong hold on her fancy; and all the wilfulness of her character
+had come in aid of this strange scheme. The thing was done;
+and it now remained to prevent its effecting the mischief it was
+so well adapted to produce.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All this time, the fair prisoner sat in perfectly composed
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_422'>422</span>silence, listening attentively to everything that was said, and
+occasionally taking a note. Timms ventured to suggest that it
+might be better were she to abstain from doing the last, as it
+gave her the air of knowing too much, and helped to deprive her
+of the interesting character of an unprotected female; but she
+turned a perfectly deaf ear to his admonitions, hints, and counsel.
+He was a safe adviser, nevertheless, in matters of this sort; but
+Mary Monson was not accustomed so much to follow the leadings
+of others, as to submit to her own impulses.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The sisters of Burton were next examined. They proved all
+the admitted facts; testified as to the stocking and its contents;
+and two of them recognised the piece of gold which was said to
+have been found in Mary Monson’s purse, as that which had
+once been the property of Dorothy Goodwin. On this head, the
+testimony of each was full, direct, and explicit. Each had often
+seen the piece of gold, and they had noted a very small notch
+or scratch near the edge, which notch or scratch was visible on
+the piece now presented in court. The cross-examination failed
+to shake this testimony, and well it might, for every word these
+young women stated was strictly true. The experiment of placing
+the piece of coin among other similar coin, failed with them.
+They easily recognized the true piece by the notch. Timms was
+confounded; Dunscomb looked very grave; Williams raised his
+nose higher than ever; and Mary Monson was perfectly surprised.
+When the notch was first mentioned, she arose, advanced
+far enough to examine the coin, and laid her hand on her forehead,
+as if she pondered painfully on the circumstance. The
+testimony that this was the identical piece found in her purse
+was very ample, the coin having been sealed up and kept by the
+coroner, who had brought it into court; while it must now be
+admitted that a very strong case was made out to show that
+this foreign coin had once been among the hoards of Dorothy
+Goodwin. A very deep impression was made by this testimony
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_423'>423</span>on all who heard it, including the court, the bar, the jury and
+the audience. Every person present, but those who were in the
+immediate confidence of the accused, was firmly convinced of
+Mary Monson’s guilt. Perhaps the only other exceptions to this
+mode of thinking were a few experienced practitioners, who,
+from long habit, knew the vast importance of hearing both sides,
+before they made up their minds in a matter of so much moment.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We shall not follow Dunscomb through his long and arduous
+cross-examination of the sisters of Burton; but confine ourselves
+to a few of the more pertinent of the interrogatories that he put
+to the eldest, and which were duly repeated when the other two
+were placed on the stand.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Will you name the persons dwelling in the house of the
+Goodwins at the time of the fire?” asked Dunscomb.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There were the two old folks, this Mary Monson, and a
+German woman named Yetty (Jette), that aunt Dorothy took in
+to wait on her boarders.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Was Mrs. Goodwin your aunt, then?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No; we wasn’t related no how; but, being such near neighbours,
+and she so old, we just called her aunt by way of a compliment.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understand that,” said Dunscomb, arching his brows—“I
+am called uncle, and by very charming young persons, on the
+same principle. Did you know much of this German?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I saw her almost every day for the time she was there, and
+talked with her as well as I could; but she spoke very little
+English. Mary Monson was the only person who could talk
+with her freely; she spoke her language.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Had you much acquaintance with the prisoner at the bar?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I was some acquainted; as a body always is, when they live
+such near neighbours.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Were your conversations with the prisoner frequent, or at
+all confidential?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_424'>424</span>“To own the truth, I never spoke to her in my life. Mary
+Monson was much too grand for me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb smiled; he understood how common it was for
+persons in this country to say they are “well acquainted” with
+this or that individual, when their whole knowledge is derived
+from the common tongue. An infinity of mischief is done by
+this practice; but the ordinary American who will admit that
+he lives near any one, without having an acquaintance with him,
+if acquaintance is supposed to confer credit, is an extraordinary
+exception to a very general rule. The idea of being “too grand”
+was of a nature to injure the prisoner and to impair her rights; and
+Dunscomb deemed it best to push the witness a little on this point.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why did you think Mary Monson was ‘too grand’ for you?”
+he demanded.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Because she <em>looked</em> so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“<em>How</em> did she look?—In what way does or did her looks
+indicate that she was, or thought herself ‘too grand’ for your
+association?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is this necessary, Mr. Dunscomb?” demanded the judge.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I beg your honour will suffer the gentleman to proceed,” put
+in Williams, cocking his nose higher than ever, and looking round
+the court-room with an air of intelligence that the great York
+counsellor did not like. “It is an interesting subject; and we
+poor, ignorant, Duke’s county folks, may get useful ideas, to teach
+us how to look ‘too grand!’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb felt that he had made a false step; and he had the
+self-command to stop.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Had you any conversation with the German woman?” he
+continued, bowing slightly to the judge to denote submission to
+<em>his</em> pleasure.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She couldn’t talk English. Mary Monson talked with her,
+I didn’t, to any account.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Were you at the fire?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_425'>425</span>“I was.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you see anything of this German during the fire, or
+afterwards?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I didn’t. She disappeared, unaccountable!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you visit the Goodwins as often after Mary Monson
+came to live with them, as you had done previously?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I didn’t—grand looks and grand language isn’t agreeable
+to me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did Mary Monson ever speak to you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think, your honour,” objected Williams, who did not like
+the question, “that this is travelling out of the record.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Let the gentleman proceed—time is precious, and a discussion
+would lose us more of it than to let him proceed—go on,
+Mr. Dunscomb.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did Mary Monson ever speak to you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She never did, to my knowledge.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What, then, do you mean by ‘grand language?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, when she spoke to aunt Dorothy, she didn’t speak as
+I was used to hear folks speak.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In what respect was the difference?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She was grander in her speech, and more pretending like.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you mean louder?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No—perhaps she wasn’t as loud as common—but ’twas
+more like a book, and uncommon.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb understood all this perfectly, as well as the feeling
+which lay at its bottom, but he saw that the jury did not; and
+he was forced to abandon the inquiry, as often happens on such
+occasions, on account of the ignorance of those to whom the
+testimony was addressed. He soon after abandoned the cross-examination
+of the sister of Burton; when his wife was brought
+upon the stand by the prosecution.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This woman, coming from a different stock, had none of the
+family characteristics of the sisters. As they were garrulous,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_426'>426</span>forward, and willing enough to testify, she was silent, reserved
+in manner, thoughtful, and seemingly so diffident that she trembled
+all over, as she laid her hand on the sacred volume. Mrs.
+Burton passed for a very good woman among all who dwelt in or
+near Biberry; and there was much more confidence felt in her
+revelations than in those of her sisters-in-law. Great modesty,
+not to say timidity of manner, an air of singular candour, a low,
+gentle voice, and an anxious expression of countenance, as if she
+weighed the import of every syllable she uttered, soon won for
+this witness the sympathy of all present, as well as perfect credence.
+Every word she uttered had a direct influence on the
+case; and this so much the more since she testified reluctantly,
+and would gladly have been permitted to say nothing.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The account given by Mrs. Burton, in her examination in
+chief, did not materially differ from that previously stated by her
+sisters-in-law. She knew more, in some respects, than those who
+had preceded her, while, in others, she knew less. She had been
+more in the confidence of Dorothy Goodwin than any other member
+of her family, had seen her oftener, and knew more of her
+private affairs. With the stocking and its contents she admitted
+that she was familiarly acquainted. The gold exceeded
+twelve hundred dollars in amount; she had counted it, in her
+own hands. There was paper, also, but she did not know how
+much, exactly, as Dorothy kept <em>that</em> very much to herself. She
+knew, however, that her neighbours talked of purchasing a farm,
+the price of which was quite five thousand dollars, a sum that
+Dorothy often talked of paying down. She thought the deceased
+must have had money to that amount, in some form or other.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>On the subject of the piece of gold found in Mary Monson’s
+purse, Mrs. Burton gave her testimony with the most amiable
+discretion. Every one compared the reserve and reluctance of
+her manner most favourably with the pert readiness of Mrs. Pope
+and the sisters. This witness appeared to appreciate the effect
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_427'>427</span>of all she said, and uttered the facts she knew with a gentleness
+of manner that gave great weight to her testimony. Dunscomb
+soon saw that this was the witness the defence had most reason
+to dread, and he used the greatest care in having every word she
+said written out with precision.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. Burton swore point blank to the piece of notched gold,
+although she fairly trembled as she gave her testimony. She
+knew it was the very piece that she had often seen in Dorothy
+Goodwin’s possession; she had examined it, at least a dozen
+times, and could have selected it among a thousand similar coins,
+by means of its private marks. Besides the notch, there was a
+slight defect in the impression of the date. This had been
+pointed out to her by Dorothy Goodwin herself, who had said it
+was a good mark by which to know the piece, should it be stolen.
+On this head, the witness’s testimony was firm, clear, and full.
+As it was corroborated by so much other evidence, the result was
+a deep and very general impression of the prisoner’s guilt.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was late when the examination in chief of Mrs. Burton terminated.
+She stated that she was much fatigued, and was suffering
+under a severe headache; and Williams asked, in her
+behalf, that the court would adjourn over, until next day, ere the
+cross-examination was gone into. This suited Dunscomb’s views
+altogether, for he knew he might lose an essential advantage by
+allowing the witness a night to arrange her thoughts, pending so
+searching a process. There being no resistance on the part of
+the prisoner, to the request of the prosecution, the judge so far
+waived his regard for the precious time of the court, as to consent
+to adjourn at eight o’clock in the evening, instead of pushing the
+case to ten or eleven. As a consequence the jurors took their
+rest in bed, instead of sleeping in the jury-box.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb left the court-house, that night, dejected, and with
+no great expectation of the acquittal of his client. Timms had
+a better feeling, and thought nothing had yet appeared that might
+not be successfully resisted.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_428'>428</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“I’ve not wrong’d her.”</div>
+ <div class='line'>“Far be it from my fears.”</div>
+ <div class='line'>“Then why this argument?”</div>
+ <div class='line'>“My lord, my nature’s jealous, and you’ll bear it.”</div>
+ <div class='line in39'><cite>Otway.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>So great was the confidence of Sarah Wilmeter and Anna Updyke
+in the innocence of their friend, that almost every step that
+the trial advanced, appeared to them as so much progress towards
+an eventual acquittal. It was perhaps a little singular, that the
+party most interested, she who knew her own guilt or innocence,
+became dejected, and for the first half hour after they had left
+the court-room, she was silent and thoughtful. Good Mrs. Gott
+was quite in despair, and detained Anna Updyke, with whom
+she had established a sort of intimacy, as she opened the door of
+the gallery for the admission of the party, in order to say a word
+on the subject that lay nearest to her heart.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! Miss Anna,” said the sheriff’s wife, “it goes from bad
+to worse! It was bad enough last evening, and it is worse to-night.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Who tells you this, Mrs. Gott? So far from thinking as
+you do, I regard it as appearing particularly favourable.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You must have heard what Burton said, and what his wife
+said, too. They are the witnesses I dread.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, but who will mind what such persons say! I am sure
+if fifty Mr. and Mrs. Burtons were to testify that Mary Monson
+had taken money that did not belong to her, I should not believe
+them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_429'>429</span>“You are not a Duke’s county jury! Why, Miss Anna, these
+men will believe almost anything you tell them. Only swear to
+it, and there’s no accounting for their credulity. No; I no
+more believe in Mary Monson’s guilt, than I do in my own; but
+law is law, they say, and rich and poor must abide by it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You view the matter under a false light, my kind-hearted
+Mrs. Gott, and after a night’s rest will see the case differently.
+Sarah and I have been delighted with the course of things. You
+must have remarked no one said that Mary Monson had been
+seen to set fire to the house, or to harm the Goodwins, or to
+touch their property, or to do anything that was wrong; and of
+course she must be acquitted.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I wish that piece of gold had not been found in her pocket!
+It’s that which makes all the trouble.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think nothing of that, my good friend. There is nothing
+remarkable in two pieces of money having the same marks on
+them; I have seen that often, myself. Besides, Mary Monson
+explains all that, and her declaration is as good as that of this
+Mrs. Burton’s, any day.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not in law, Miss Anna; no, not in law. Out of doors it
+might be much better, and probably is; but not in court, by
+what they tell me. Gott says it is beginning to look very dark,
+and that we, in the gaol, here, must prepare for the very worst.
+I tell him, if I was he, I’d resign before I’d execute such a
+beautiful creature!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You make me shudder with such horrid thoughts, Mrs.
+Gott, and I will thank you to open the door. Take courage,
+we shall never have to lament such a catastrophe, or your husband
+to perform so revolting a duty.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I hope not—I’m sure I hope not, with all my heart. I
+would prefer that Gott should give up all hopes of ever rising
+any higher, than have him do this office. One never knows,
+Miss Anna, what is to happen in life, though I was as happy as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_430'>430</span>a child when he was made sheriff. If my words have any weight
+with him, and he often says they have, I shall never let him
+execute Mary Monson. You are young, Miss Anna; but you’ve
+heard the tongue of flattery, I make no doubt, and know how
+sweet it is to woman’s ear.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. Gott had been wiping her eyes with one hand, and putting
+the key into the lock with the other, while talking, and she
+now stood regarding her young companion with a sort of motherly
+interest, as she made this appeal to her experience. Anna
+blushed ‘rosy red,’ and raised her gloved hand to turn the key,
+as if desirous of getting away from the earnest look of the matron.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That’s just the way with all of us, Miss Anna!” continued
+Mrs. Gott. “We listen, and listen, and listen; and believe, and
+believe, and believe, until we are no longer the gay, light-hearted
+creatures that we were, but become mopy, and sighful, and
+anxious, to a degree that makes us forget father and mother,
+and fly from the paternal roof.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Will you have the kindness, now, to let me into the gaol?”
+said Anna, in the gentlest voice imaginable.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In a minute, my dear—I call you my dear, because I like
+you; for I never use what Gott calls ‘high flown.’ There is
+Mr. John Wilmeter, now, as handsome and agreeable a youth
+as ever came to Biberry. He comes here two or three times a
+day, and sits and talks with me in the most agreeable way, until
+I’ve got to like him better than any young man of my acquaintance.
+He talks of you, quite half the time; and when he is not
+<em>talking</em> of you, he is <em>thinking</em> of you, as I know by the way he
+gazes at this very door.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps his thoughts are on Mary Monson,” answered Anna,
+blushing scarlet. “You know she is a sort of client of his, and
+he has been here in her service, for a good while.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She hardly ever saw him; scarcely ever, except at this
+grate. His foot never crossed this threshold, until his uncle
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_431'>431</span>came; and since, I believe he has gone in but once. Mary
+Monson is not the being he worships.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I trust he worships the Being we all worship, Mrs. Gott,”
+struggling gently to turn the key, and succeeding. “It is not
+for us poor frail beings to talk of being worshipped.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Or of worshipping, as I tell Gott,” said the sheriff’s wife,
+permitting her companion to depart.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna found Mary Monson and Sarah walking together in the
+gallery, conversing earnestly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is singular that nothing reaches us from Michael Millington!”
+exclaimed the last, as Anna interlocked arms with her,
+and joined the party. “It is now near eight-and-forty hours
+since my uncle sent him to town.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“On my business?” demanded Mary Monson, quickly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly; on no other—though what it was that took him
+away so suddenly, I have not been told. I trust you will be
+able to overturn all that these Burtons have said, and to repair
+the mischief they have done?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Fear nothing for me, Miss Wilmeter,” answered the prisoner,
+with singular steadiness of manner—“I tell you, as I
+have often told your friend, <em>I must be acquitted</em>. Let justice
+take its course, say I, and the guilty be punished. I have a clue
+to the whole story, as I believe, and must make provision for to-morrow.
+Do you two, dear, warm-hearted friends as you are,
+now leave me; and when you reach the inn, send Mr. Dunscomb
+hither, as soon as possible. Not that Timms; but noble, honest,
+upright Mr. Dunscomb. Kiss me, each of you, and so good
+night. Think of me in your prayers. I am a great sinner, and
+have need of your prayers.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The wishes of Mary Monson were obeyed, and the young ladies
+left the gaol for the night. Ten minutes later Dunscomb
+reached the place, and was admitted. His conference with his
+client was long, intensely interesting, and it quite unsettled the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_432'>432</span>notions he had now, for some time, entertained of her guilt. She
+did not communicate any thing concerning her past life, nor did
+she make any promises on that subject; but she did communicate
+facts of great importance, as connected with the result of her
+trial. Dunscomb left her, at a late hour, with views entirely
+changed, hopes revived, and his resolution stimulated. He made
+ample entries in his brief; nor did he lay his head on his pillow
+until it was very late.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The little court-house bell rang as usual, next morning, and
+judge, jurors, witnesses, lawyers, and the curious in general, collected
+as before, without any ceremony, though in decent quiet.
+The case was now getting to be so serious, that all approached it
+as truly a matter of life and death; even the reporters submitting
+to an impulse of humanity, and viewing the whole affair less in
+a business point of view, than as one which might carry a singularly
+gifted woman into the other world. The first act of the
+day opened by putting Mrs. Burton on the stand, for her cross-examination.
+As every intelligent person present understood
+that on her testimony depended the main result, the fall of a pin
+might almost have been heard, so profound was the general wish
+to catch what was going on. The witness, however, appeared to
+be calm, while the advocate was pale and anxious. He had the
+air of one who had slept little the past night. He arranged his
+papers with studied care, made each movement deliberately, compressed
+his lips, and seemed to be bringing his thoughts into
+such a state of order and distinctness that each might be resorted
+to as it was needful. In point of fact, Dunscomb foresaw that
+a human life depended very much on the result of this cross-examination,
+and like a conscientious man, he was disposed to do
+his whole duty. No wonder, then, that he paused to reflect, was
+deliberate in his acts, and concentrated in feeling.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We will first give our attention to this piece of gold, Mrs.
+Burton,” the counsel for the prisoner mildly commenced, motioning
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_433'>433</span>to the coroner, who was in court, to show the witness the
+piece of money so often examined. “Are you quite certain that
+it is the very coin that you saw in the possession of Mrs. Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Absolutely certain, sir. As certain as I am of anything in
+the world.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Burton, I wish you to remember that the life of the
+prisoner at the bar will, most probably, be affected by your testimony.
+Be kind enough, then, to be very guarded and close in
+your answers. Do you still say that this is the precise coin that
+you once saw in Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The witness seemed suddenly struck with the manner of the
+advocate. She trembled from head to foot. Still, Dunscomb
+spoke mildly, kindly even; and the idea conveyed in the present,
+was but a repetition of that conveyed in the former question.
+Nevertheless, those secret agencies, by means of which thought
+meets thought, unknown to all but their possessors; that set in
+motion, as it might be, all the covert currents of the mind, causing
+them to flow towards similar streams in the mind of another,
+were now at work, and Dunscomb and the witness had a clue to
+each other’s meaning that entirely escaped the observation of all
+around them. There is nothing novel in this state of secret intelligence.
+It doubtless depends on a mutual consciousness, and
+a common knowledge of certain material facts, the latter being
+applied by the former, with promptitude and tact. Notwithstanding
+her sudden alarm, and the change it brought over her
+entire manner, Mrs. Burton answered the question as before;
+what was more, she answered it truly. The piece of gold found
+in Mary Monson’s purse, and now in possession of the coroner,
+who had kept it carefully, in order to identify it, had been in
+Dorothy Goodwin’s stocking.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Quite certain, sir. I know that to be the same piece of
+money that I saw, at different times, in Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_434'>434</span>“Did you ever have that gold coin in your own hand, Mrs.
+Burton, previously to this trial?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was a very natural and simple interrogatory; one that
+might be, and probably was, anticipated; yet it gave the witness
+uneasiness, more from the manner of Dunscomb, perhaps, than
+from anything in the nature of the inquiry itself. The answer,
+however, was given promptly, and, as before, with perfect
+truth.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“On several occasions, sir. I saw that notch, and talked with
+Mrs. Goodwin about it, more than once.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What was the substance of Mrs. Goodwin’s remarks, in relation
+to that notch?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She asked me, one time, if I thought it lessened the weight
+of the coin; and if so, how much I thought it might take away
+from its value?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What was your answer?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe I said I did not think it could make any great difference.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did Mrs. Goodwin ever tell you how, or where, she got that
+piece of money?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, she did. She told me it came from Mary Monson.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In pay for board; or, for what purpose did it pass from one
+to the other?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This, too, was a very simple question, but the witness no longer
+answered promptly. The reader will remember that Mary Monson
+had said, before the coroner, that she had two of these coins,
+and that she had given one of them to the poor unfortunate deceased,
+and had left the other in her own purse. This answer
+had injured the cause of the accused, inasmuch as it was very
+easy to tell such a tale, while few in Biberry were disposed to
+believe that gold passed thus freely, and without any consideration,
+from hand to hand. Mrs. Burton remembered all this,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_435'>435</span>and, for a reason best known to herself, she shrunk a little from
+making the required reply. Still she did answer this question
+also, and answered it truly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understood aunt Dolly to say that Mary Monson made her
+a present of that piece of money.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here Timms elevated his nose, and looked around him in a
+meaning manner, that appealed to the audience to know if his
+client were not a person of veracity. Sooth to say, this answer
+made a strong impression in favour of the accused, and Dunscomb
+saw with satisfaction that, in-so-much, he had materially
+gained ground. He was not a man to gain it, however, by dramatic
+airs; he merely paused for a few moments, in order to give
+full effect to this advantage.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Goodwin, then, owned to you that she had the coin
+from Mary Monson, and that it was a present?” was the next
+question.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She did, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did she say anything about Mary Monson’s having another
+piece of money, like the one before you, and which was given by
+her to Dorothy Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A long pause succeeded. The witness raised a hand to her
+brow, and appeared to meditate. Her reputation for taciturnity
+and gravity of deportment was such, that most of those in court
+believed she was endeavouring to recollect the past, in order to
+say neither more nor less than the truth. In point of fact, she
+was weighing well the effect of her words, for she was a person
+of extreme caution, and of great reputed probity of character.
+The reply came at length—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She did speak on the subject,” she said, “and did state
+something of the kind.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Can you recollect her words—if so, give them to the jury—if
+not her very words, their substance.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Aunt Dolly had a way of her own in talking, which makes
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_436'>436</span>it very difficult to repeat her precise words; but she said, in substance,
+that Mary Monson had two of these pieces of money, one
+of which was given to <em>her</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson, then, kept the other?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“So I understood it, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you any knowledge yourself, on this subject?—If so,
+state it to the jury.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Another pause, one even longer than before, and again the
+hand was raised to the brow. The witness now spoke with extreme
+caution, seeming to feel her way among the facts, as a cat
+steals on its prey.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe I have—a little—some—I have seen Mary
+Monson’s purse, and I <em>believe</em> I saw a piece of money in it which
+resembled this.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are you not <em>certain</em> of the fact?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps I am.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here Dunscomb’s face was lighted with a smile; he evidently
+was encouraged.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Were you present, Mrs. Burton, when Mary Monson’s purse
+was examined, in presence of the inquest?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I was.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you then see its contents?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I did”—after the longest pause of all.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Had you that purse in your hand, ma’am?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The brow was once more shaded, and the recollection seemingly
+taxed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think I had. It was passed round among us, and I believe
+that I touched it, as well as others.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are you not certain that you did so?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir. Now, I reflect, I know that I did. The piece of
+money found in Mary Monson’s purse, was passed from one to
+another, and to me, among the rest.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This was very wrong,” observed his honour.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_437'>437</span>“It was wrong, sir; but not half as wrong as the murders
+and arson,” coolly remarked Williams.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Go on, gentlemen—time is precious.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Now, Mrs. Burton, I wish to ask you a very particular question,
+and I beg that your answer may be distinct and guarded—did
+you ever have access to the piece of gold found, or said to be
+found, in Mary Monson’s purse, except on the occasion of the
+inquest?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The longest pause of all, and the deepest shading of the brow.
+So long was the self-deliberation this time, as to excite a little
+remark among the spectators. Still, it was no more than prudent
+to be cautious, in a cause of so much importance.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I certainly have, sir,” was the reply that came at last. “I
+saw it in Dorothy Goodwin’s stocking, several times; had it in
+my hand, and examined it. This is the way I came to discover
+the notch. Aunt Dolly and I talked about that notch, as I
+have already told the court.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Quite true, ma’am, we remember that; all your answers are
+carefully written out—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’m sure nothing that I have said can be written out, which
+is not true, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“We are to suppose that. And now, ma’am, permit me to
+ask if you ever saw that piece of money at any other time than
+at those you have mentioned. Be particular in the answer.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I may,” after a long pause.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you not <em>know</em>?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Will you say, on your oath, that you cannot recollect any
+one occasion, other than those you have mentioned, on which you
+have seen and handled that piece of money?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“When aunt Dolly showed it to me, before the coroner, and
+here in court. I recollect no other time.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Let me put this question to you again, Mrs. Burton—recalling
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_438'>438</span>the solemnity of the oath you have taken—have you, or
+have you not, seen that piece of money on any other occasion
+than those you have just mentioned?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not remember ever to have seen it at any other time,”
+answered the woman, firmly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson gave a little start, and Dunscomb appeared disappointed.
+Timms bit his lip, and looked anxiously at the jury,
+while Williams once more cocked <em>his</em> nose, and looked around
+him in triumph. If the witness spoke the truth, she was now
+likely to adhere to it; if, on the other hand, there were really
+any ground for Dunscomb’s question, the witness had passed the
+Rubicon, and would adhere to her falsehood even more tenaciously
+than she would adhere to the truth. The remainder of
+this cross-examination was of very little importance. Nothing
+further was obtained from the witness that went to shake her
+testimony.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Our limits will not permit a detailed account of all the evidence
+that was given in behalf of the prosecution. All that appeared
+before the inquest was now introduced, methodized and
+arranged by Williams; processes that rendered it much more
+respectable than it had originally appeared to be. At length it
+came to the turn of the defence to open. This was a task that
+Dunscomb took on himself, Timms, in his judgment, being unequal
+to it. His opening was very effective, in the way of argument,
+though necessarily not conclusive, the case not making in
+favour of his client.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The public expected important revelations as to the past history
+of the prisoner, and of this Timms had apprised Dunscomb.
+The latter, however, was not prepared to make them. Mary
+Monson maintained all her reserve, and Millington did not return.
+The cause was now so far advanced as to render it improbable
+that any facts, of this nature, could be obtained in sufficient
+season to be used, and the counsel saw the necessity of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_439'>439</span>giving a new turn to this particular point in the case. He consequently
+complained that the prosecution had neglected to show
+anything in the past life of the accused to render it probable she
+had been guilty of the offences with which she was charged.
+“Mary Monson appears here,” he went on to say, “with a character
+as fair as that of any other female in the community. This
+is the presumption of law, and you will truly regard her, gentlemen,
+as one that is innocent until she is proved to be guilty.”
+The inference drawn from the silence of the prosecution was not
+strictly logical, perhaps; but Dunscomb managed at least to mystify
+the matter in such a way as to prepare the jury to hear a
+defence that would be silent on this head, and to leave a doubt
+whether this silence were not solely the fault of the counsel for
+the prosecution. While he was commenting on this branch of
+the subject, Williams took notes furiously, and Timms foresaw
+that he meant to turn the tables on them, at the proper moment.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Pretty much as a matter of course, Dunscomb was compelled
+to tell the court and jury that the defence relied principally on
+the insufficiency of the evidence of the other side. This was
+altogether circumstantial; and the circumstances, as he hoped to
+be able to convince the jury, were of a nature that admitted of
+more than one construction. Whenever this was the case, it was
+the duty of the jury to give the accused the full benefit of these
+doubts. The rest of the opening had the usual character of appeals
+to the sympathy and justice of the jury, very prudently
+and properly put.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dr. McBrain was now placed upon the stand, when the customary
+questions were asked, to show that he was a witness entitled
+to the respect of the court. He was then further interrogated,
+as follows:—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you seen the two skeletons that are now in court, and
+which are said to have been taken from the ruins of the house
+of the Goodwins?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_440'>440</span>“I have. I saw them before the inquest; and I have again
+examined them here, in court.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What do you say, as to their sex?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe them both to be the skeletons of females.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you feel certain of this fact?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Reasonably so, but not absolutely. No one can pronounce
+with perfect certainty in such a case; more especially when the
+remains are in the state in which these have been found. We
+are guided principally by the comparative size of the bones; and,
+as these are affected by the age of the subject, it is hazardous to
+be positive. I can only say that I think both of these skeletons
+belonged to female subjects; particularly the shortest.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you measured the skeletons?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have, and find one rather more than an inch and a half
+shorter than the other. The longest measures quite five feet
+seven and a half, in the state in which it is; while the shortest
+measures a trifle less than five feet six. If women, both were
+of unusual stature; particularly the first. I think that the bones
+of both indicate that they belonged to females; and I should
+have thought the same had I known nothing of the reports which
+have reached my ears touching the persons whose remains these
+are said to be.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“When you first formed your opinion of the sex of those to
+whom these remains belonged, had you heard that there was a
+German woman staying in the house of the Goodwins at the
+time of the fire?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I think not; though I have taken so little heed of these
+rumours as to be uncertain when I first heard this circumstance.
+I do remember, however, that I was under the impression the
+remains were, beyond a doubt, those of Peter Goodwin and his
+wife, when I <em>commenced</em> the examination of them; and I very
+distinctly recollect the surprise I felt when the conviction crossed
+my mind that both were the skeletons of women. From the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_441'>441</span>nature of this feeling, I rather think I could not have heard anything
+of the German female at that time.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The cross-examination of Dr. McBrain was very long and
+searching; but it did not materially affect the substance of his
+testimony. On the contrary, it rather strengthened it; since he
+had it in his power to explain himself more fully under the interrogatories
+of Williams, than he could do in an examination in
+chief. Still, he could go no farther than give his strong belief;
+declining to pronounce positively on the sex of either individual,
+in the state in which the remains were found.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Although nothing positive was obtained from this testimony,
+the minds of the jurors were pointedly directed to the circumstance
+of the sudden and unexplained disappearance of the German
+woman; thus making an opening for the admission of a
+serious doubt connected with the fate of that person.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was a sad thing to reflect that, beyond this testimony of
+McBrain, there was little other direct evidence to offer in behalf
+of the accused. It is true, the insufficiency of that which had
+been produced by the prosecution might avail her much; and on
+this Dunscomb saw that his hopes of an acquittal must depend;
+but he could not refrain from regretting, and that bitterly, that
+the unmoved resolution of his client not to let her past life be
+known, must so much weaken his case, were she innocent, and
+so much fortify that of the prosecution, under the contrary supposition.
+Another physician or two were examined to sustain
+McBrain; but, after all, the condition of the remains was such
+as to render any testimony questionable. One witness went so
+far as to say, it is true, that he thought he could distinguish
+certain unerring signs of the sex in the length of the lower
+limbs, and in other similar proof; but even McBrain was forced
+to admit that such distinctions were very vague and unsatisfactory.
+His own opinion was formed more from the size of the bones,
+generally, than from any other proof. In general, there was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_442'>442</span>little difficulty in speaking of the sex of the subject, when the
+skeleton was entire and well preserved, and particularly when
+the teeth furnished some clue to the age; but, in this particular
+case, as has already been stated, there could be no such thing as
+absolute certainty.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was with a heavy heart, and with many an anxious glance
+cast towards the door, in the hope of seeing Michael Millington
+enter, that Dunscomb admitted the prisoner had no further testimony
+to offer. He had spun out the little he did possess, in
+order to give it an appearance of importance which it did not
+actually bring with it, and to divert the minds of the jurors from
+the impression they had probably obtained, of the remains necessarily
+being those of Goodwin and his wife.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The summing up on both sides was a grave and solemn scene.
+Here Williams was thrown out, the District Attorney choosing
+to perform his own duty on an occasion so serious. Dunscomb
+made a noble appeal to the justice of the court and jury; admonishing
+both of the danger of yielding too easily to circumstantial
+evidence. It was the best possible proof, he admitted, when the
+circumstances were sufficiently clear and sufficiently shown to be
+themselves beyond controversy. That Mary Monson dwelt with
+the Goodwins, was in the house at the time of the arson and
+murder, if such crimes were ever committed at all; that she
+escaped and all her property was saved, would of themselves
+amount to nothing. The testimony, indeed, on several of these
+heads, rather told in her favour than the reverse. The witnesses
+for the prosecution proved that she was in her room, beneath the
+roof, when the flames broke out, and was saved with difficulty.
+This was a most material fact, and Dunscomb turned it to good
+account. Would an incendiary be apt to place herself in a situation
+in which her own life was in danger; and this, too, under
+circumstances that rendered no such measure necessary? Then,
+all the facts connected with Mary Monson’s residence and habits
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_443'>443</span>told in her favour. Why should she remain so long at the cottage,
+if robbery was her only purpose? The idea of her belonging to
+a gang that had sent her to make discoveries and to execute its
+plans, was preposterous; for what hindered any of the men of
+that gang from committing the crimes in the most direct manner,
+and with the least loss of time? No; if Mary Monson were
+guilty, she was undoubtedly guilty on her own account; and had
+been acting with the uncertain aim and hand of a woman. The
+jury must discard all notions of accomplices, and consider the
+testimony solely in connection with the acts of the accused.
+Accomplices, and those of the nature supposed, would have
+greatly simplified the whole of the wretched transaction. They
+would have rendered both the murders and arson unnecessary.
+The bold and strong do not commit these crimes, except in those
+cases in which resistance renders them necessary. Here was
+clearly no resistance, as was shown by the quiet positions in which
+the skeletons had been found. If a murder was directly committed,
+it must have been by the blow on the heads; and the
+jury was asked to consider whether a delicate female like Mary
+Monson had even the physical force necessary to strike such a
+blow. With what instrument was it done? Nothing of the sort
+was found near the bodies; and no proof of any such blow was
+before the jury. One witness had said that the iron-work of a
+plough lay quite near the remains; and it had been shown that
+Peter Goodwin kept such articles in a loft over his bed-room.
+He would suggest the possibility of the fire’s having commenced
+in that loft, through which the pipe of a cooking-stove led; of
+its having consumed the beams of the floor; letting down this
+plough and share upon the heads of the sleeping couple <a id='corr443.30'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='below'>below,</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_443.30'><ins class='correction' title='below'>below,</ins></a></span>
+stunning, if not killing them; thus leaving them unresisting
+subjects to the action of the element. McBrain had been
+examined on this point, which we omitted to state in its place, to
+prevent repetition. He, and the two other doctors brought forward
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_444'>444</span>for the defence, had tried to place the ploughshare on the
+skulls; and were of opinion that the injuries might have been
+inflicted by that piece of iron. But Mary Monson could not use
+such an instrument. This was beyond all dispute. If the ploughshare
+inflicted the blow—and the testimony on this point was at
+least entitled to respect—then was Mary Monson innocent of any
+murder committed by <em>direct</em> means. It is true, she was responsible
+for all her acts; and if she set fire to the building, she was
+probably guilty of murder as well as of arson. But would she
+have done this, and made no provision for her own escape? The
+evidence was clear that she was rescued by means of a ladder,
+and through a window; and that there were no other means of
+<a id='corr444.13'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='escape.”'>escape.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_444.13'><ins class='correction' title='escape.”'>escape.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb reasoned on these several points with great force
+and ingenuity. So clear were his statements, so logical his inferences,
+and so candid his mode of arguing, that he had produced a
+great effect ere he closed this branch of his subject. It is true,
+that one far more difficult remained to be met; to answer which
+he now set about with fear and trembling.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We allude to the piece of money alleged to have been found
+in Mary Monson’s purse. Dunscomb had very little difficulty in
+disposing of the flippant widow Pope; but the Burton family
+gave him more trouble. Nevertheless, it was his duty to endeavour
+to get rid of them, or at least so far to weaken their testimony
+as to give his client the benefit of the doubt. There was,
+in truth, but one mode of doing this. It was to impress on the
+jury the probability that the coin had been changed in passing
+from hand to hand. It is true, it was not easy to suggest any
+plausible reason why such an act of treachery should have been
+committed; but it was a good legal point to show that this piece
+of money had not, at all times, been absolutely under the eye or
+within the control of the coroner. If there were a possibility of
+a change, the fact should and ought to tell in favour of his client.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_445'>445</span>Mrs. Burton had made admissions on this point which entitled
+the prisoner to press the facts on the minds of the jurors; and
+her counsel did not fail so to do, with clearness and energy.
+After all, this was much the most difficult point of the case; and
+it would not admit of a perfectly satisfactory solution.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The conclusion of Dunscomb’s summing up was manly, touching,
+even eloquent. He spoke of a lone and defenceless female,
+surrounded by strangers, being dragged to the bar on charges of
+such gravity; pointed to his client where she sat enthralled by
+his language, with all the signs of polished refinement on her
+dress, person, and manners; delicate, feminine, and beautiful;
+and asked if any one, who had the soul and feelings of a man,
+could believe that such a being had committed the crimes imputed
+to Mary Monson.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The appeal was powerful, and was dwelt on just long enough
+to give it full and fair effect. It left the bench, the bar, the jury-box,
+the whole audience in fact, in tears. The prisoner alone
+kept an unmoistened eye; but it was in a face flushed with feeling.
+Her self-command was almost supernatural.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_446'>446</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line in10'>“I’ll brave her to her face:</div>
+ <div class='line'>I’ll give my anger its free course against her.</div>
+ <div class='line'>Thou shalt see, Phœnix, how I’ll break her pride.”</div>
+ <div class='line in27'><cite>The Distressed Mother.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The District Attorney was fully impressed with the importance
+of the duty that had now devolved on him. Although we have
+daily proofs on all sides of us, of the truth of that remark of
+Bacon’s, “that no man rises to eminence in the State without a
+mixture of great and mean qualities,” this favourite of the people
+had his good points as well as another. He was a humane
+man; and, contrary to the expectations, and greatly to the disappointment
+of Williams, he now took on himself the office of
+summing up.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The public functionary commenced in a mild, quiet manner,
+manifesting by the key on which he pitched his voice a natural
+reluctance to his painful duty; but he was steady and collected.
+He opened with a brief summary of the facts. A strange female,
+of high personal pretensions, had taken lodgings in an humble
+dwelling. That dwelling contained a considerable sum of money.
+Some counted it by thousands; all by hundreds. In either case,
+it was a temptation to the covetous and ill-disposed. The lodgings
+were unsuited to the habits of the guest; but she endured them
+for several weeks. A fire occurred, and the house was consumed.
+The remains of the husband and wife were found, as the jury
+saw them, with marks of violence on their skulls. A deadly
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_447'>447</span>blow had been struck by some one. The bureau containing the
+money was found locked, but the money itself was missing. One
+piece of that money was known, and it was traced to the purse
+of the female lodger. This stranger was arrested; and, in her
+mode of living in the gaol, in her expenditures of every sort,
+she exhibited the habits and profusion of one possessed of considerable
+sums. Doubtless many of the reports in circulation were
+false; exaggerations ever accompanied each statement of any
+unusual occurrence; but enough was proved to show that Mary
+Monson had a considerable amount of money at command.
+Whence came these funds? That which was lightly obtained
+went lightly. The jury were exhorted to reject every influence
+but that which was sustained by the evidence. All that had been
+here stated rested on uncontradicted, unresisted testimony.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>There was no desire to weaken the force of the defence. This
+defence had been ingeniously and powerfully presented; and to
+what did it amount. The direct, unequivocal evidence of Mrs.
+Burton, as to her knowledge of the piece of money, and all that
+related to it, and this evidence sustained by so much that was
+known to others, the coroner included, was met by a <em><a id='corr447.20'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='conjecture'>conjecture.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_447.20'><ins class='correction' title='conjecture'>conjecture.</ins></a></span></em>
+This conjecture was accompanied by an insinuation that some
+might suppose reflected on the principal witness; but it was only
+an insinuation. There were two legal modes of attacking the
+credibility of a witness. One was by showing habitual mendacity;
+the other by demonstrating from the evidence itself, that
+the testimony could not be true. Had either been done in the
+present instance? The District Attorney thought not. One,
+and this the most common course, had not even been <a id='corr447.28'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='attempted'>attempted.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_447.28'><ins class='correction' title='attempted'>attempted.</ins></a></span>
+Insinuations, rather than just deductions, he was compelled to
+say, notwithstanding his high respect for the learned counsel
+opposed to him, had been the course adopted. That counsel had
+contended that the circumstances were not sufficient to justify a
+verdict of guilty. Of this, the jury were the sole judges. If
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_448'>448</span>they believed Mrs. Burton, sustained as she was by so much other
+testimony, they must admit that Dorothy Goodwin’s money was
+found in Mary Monson’s purse. This was the turning point of
+the case. All depended on the construction of this one fact.
+He left it to the jury, to their good sense, to their consciences.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>On the part of the defence, great stress had been laid on the
+circumstance that Mary Monson was herself rescued from the
+flames with some difficulty. But for assistance, she would most
+probably have perished. The District Attorney desired to deny
+nothing that could justly go to prove the prisoner’s innocence.
+The fact was unquestionably as stated. But for assistance, Mary
+Monson <em>might</em> have perished. But assistance was <em>not</em> wanting;
+for strangers were most <em>opportunely</em> at hand, and they did this
+piece of good service. They remained until all was over, and
+vanished. No one knew them; whence they came, or whither
+they went. Important agents in saving a life, they had gone
+without their reward, and were not even named in the newspaper
+accounts of the occurrence. Reporters generally tell more than
+happens; in this instance, they were mute.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>As for the danger of the prisoner, it might have happened in a
+variety of ways that affected neither her guilt nor her innocence.
+After committing the murders, she may have gone into her room
+and been unexpectedly enclosed by the flames; or the whole may
+have been previously planned, in order to give her the plea of
+this very dangerous situation, as a proof of innocence. Such
+immaterial circumstances were not to overshadow the very material
+facts on which the prosecution rested.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Another important question was to be asked by the jury. If
+Mary Monson did not commit these crimes, who did? It had
+been suggested that the house might have taken fire by accident,
+and that the ploughshare was the real cause of the death of its
+owners. If this were so, did the ploughshare remove the money?—did
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_449'>449</span>the ploughshare put the notched piece in Mary Monson’s
+purse?</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Such is an outline of the manner in which the District Attorney
+reasoned on the facts. His summing up made a deep impression;
+the moderation of the manner in which he pressed the
+guilt of the accused, telling strongly against her. Nothing was
+said of aristocracy, or harps, or manners, or of anything else that
+did not fairly belong to the subject. A great deal more was said,
+of course; but we do not conceive it necessary to advert to it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The charge was exceedingly impartial. The judge made a full
+exposition of all the testimony, pointed out its legitimate bearing,
+and dissected its weak points. As for the opinion of McBrain
+and his associates, the court conceived it entitled to a great deal
+of consideration. Here were several highly respectable professional
+men testifying that, in their judgment, both the skeletons were
+those of females. The German woman was missing. What had
+become of her? In any case, the disappearance of that woman
+was very important. She may have committed the crimes, and
+absconded; or one of the skeletons may have been hers. It was
+in evidence that Peter Goodwin and his wife did not live always
+in the most happy mood; and he may have laid hands on the
+money, which was probably his in the eyes of the law, and left
+the place. He had not been seen since the fire. The jury must
+take all the facts into their consideration, and decide according
+to their consciences.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This charge was deemed rather favourable to the accused than
+otherwise. The humanity of the judge was conspicuous throughout;
+and he leaned quite obviously to Dunscomb’s manner of
+treating the danger of Mary Monson from the flames, and dwelt
+on the fact that the piece of money was not sufficiently watched
+to make out an absolute case of identity. When he had done,
+the impression was very general that the prisoner would be acquitted.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_450'>450</span>As it was reasonably supposed that a case of this importance
+would detain the jury a considerable time, the court permitted
+the prisoner to withdraw. She left the place, attended by her
+two friends; the latter in tears, while Mary herself was still
+seemingly unmoved. The thoughtful Mrs. Gott had prepared
+refreshments for her; and, for the first time since her trial commenced,
+the fair prisoner ate heartily.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I shall owe my triumph, not to money, my dear girls,” she
+said, while at table, “not to friends, nor to a great array of counsel;
+but to truth. I did not commit these crimes; and on the
+testimony of the State alone, with scarcely any of my own, the
+jury will have to say as much. No stain will rest on my character,
+and I can meet my friends with the unclouded brow of innocence.
+This is a very precious moment to me; I would not part
+with it for all the honours that riches and rank can bestow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How strange that you, of all women, my dear mamma,” said
+Anna, kissing her cheek, “should be accused of crimes so horrible
+to obtain a little money; for this poor Mrs. Goodwin could
+have had no great sum after all, and you are so rich!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“More is the pity that I have not made a better use of my
+money. You are to be envied, girls, in having the fortunes of
+gentlewomen, and in having no more. I do believe it is better
+for our sex barely to be independent in their respective stations,
+and not to be rendered rich. Man or woman, money is a dangerous
+thing, when we come to consider it as a part of our natural
+existence; for it tempts us to fancy that money’s worth gives
+rights that nature and reason both deny. I believe I should
+have been much happier, were I much poorer than I am.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“But those who are rich are not very likely to rob!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly not, in the sense that you mean, my dear. Send
+Marie Moulin on some errand, Anna; I wish to tell you and
+Sarah what I think of this fire, and of the deaths for which I
+am now on trial.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_451'>451</span>Anna complied; and the handsome prisoner, first looking cautiously
+around to make certain she was not overheard, proceeded
+with her opinion.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In the first place, I make no doubt Dr. McBrain is right,
+and that both the skeletons are those of women. The German
+woman got to be very intimate with Mrs. Goodwin; and as the
+latter and her husband quarrelled daily, and fiercely, I think it
+probable that she took this woman into her bed, where they
+perished together. I should think the fire purely accidental,
+were it not for the missing stocking.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is just what the District Attorney said,” cried Anna,
+innocently. “Who, then, <em>can</em> have set the house on fire?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson muttered to herself; and she smiled as if some
+queer fancies crowded her brain; but no one was the wiser
+for her ruminations. These she kept to herself, and continued.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, that missing stocking renders the arson probable. The
+question is, who did the deed; I, or Mrs. Burton?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Burton!” exclaimed both the girls in a breath. “Why,
+her character is excellent—no one has ever suspected her! You
+cannot suppose that she is the guilty person!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is she, or it is I; which, I will leave you to judge. I
+was aware that the notch was in the coin; for I was about to
+give the other piece to Mrs. Goodwin, but preferred to keep the
+perfect specimen myself. The notched piece must have been in
+the stocking until <em>after</em> the fire; and it was changed by some
+one while my purse was under examination.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And you suppose that Mrs. Burton did it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I confess to a suspicion to that effect. Who else could or
+<em>would</em> have done it? I have mentioned this distrust to Mr.
+Dunscomb, and he cross-examined in reference to this fact; though
+nothing very satisfactory was extracted. After my acquittal, steps
+will be taken to push the inquiry further.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_452'>452</span>Mary Monson continued discussing this subject for quite an
+hour; her wondering companions putting questions. At the end
+of that time, Mr. Gott appeared to say that the jury had come
+into court; and that it was his duty to take the prisoner there
+to meet them.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Perhaps Mary Monson never looked more lovely than at that
+moment. She had dressed herself with great simplicity, but
+with exceeding care; excitement gave her the richest colour;
+hope, even delight, was glowing in her eyes; and her whole form
+was expanding with the sentiment of triumph. There is no feeling
+more general than sympathy with success. After the judge’s
+charge, few doubted of the result; and on every side, as she
+walked with a light firm step to her chair, the prisoner read kindness,
+sympathy, and exultation. After all that had been said,
+and all the prejudices that had been awakened, Mary Monson
+was about to be acquitted! Even the reporters became a little
+humanized; had juster perceptions than common of the rights
+of their fellow-creatures; and a more smiling, benignant assembly
+was never collected in that hall. In a few minutes, silence
+was obtained, and the jurors were called. Every man answered
+to his name, when the profound stillness of expectation pervaded
+the place.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Stand up, Mary Monson, and listen to the verdict,” said the
+clerk, not without a little tremor in his voice. “Gentlemen,
+what do you say—is the prisoner guilty or not guilty?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The foreman arose, stroked down a few scattering grey hairs,
+then, in a voice barely audible, he pronounced the portentous
+word “guilty.” Had a bomb suddenly exploded in the room, it
+could not have produced greater astonishment, and scarcely more
+consternation. Anna Updyke darted forward, and, as with a
+single bound, Mary Monson was folded in her arms.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, no!” cried this warm-hearted girl, totally unconscious
+of the impropriety of her acts; “she is <em>not</em> guilty. You do not
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_453'>453</span>know her. I <em>do</em>. She was my school mamma. She is a lady,
+incapable of being guilty of such crimes. No, no, gentlemen,
+you will think better of this, and alter your verdict—perhaps it
+was a mistake, and you meant to say, ‘not guilty!’”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Who is this young lady?” asked the judge, in a tremulous
+voice—“a relative of the prisoner’s?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No, sir,” answered the excited girl, “no relative, but a very
+close friend. She was my ‘school mamma’ once, and I know
+she is not a person to rob, and murder, and set fire to houses.
+Her birth, education, character, all place her above it. You will
+think better of this, gentlemen, and change your verdict. Now,
+go at once and do it, or you may distress her!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Does any one know who this young lady is?” demanded his
+honour, his voice growing more and more tremulous.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am Anna Updyke—Dr. McBrain’s daughter, now, and
+uncle Tom’s niece,” answered Anna, scarce knowing what she
+said. “But never mind <em>me</em>—it is Mary Monson, here, who has
+been tried, and who has so wrongfully been found guilty. She
+never committed these crimes, I tell you, sir—is incapable of
+committing them—had no motive for committing them; and I
+beg you will put a stop to these proceedings, before they get so
+far as to make it difficult to recede. Just tell the jury to alter
+their verdict. No, no, Mary Monson is no murderess! She
+would no more hurt the Goodwins, or touch a particle of their
+gold, than either of us all. You do not know her, sir. If you
+did, you would smile at this mistake of the jury, for it is all a
+cruel mistake. Now do, my dear sir, send them away, again,
+and tell them to be more reasonable.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The young lady had better be removed,” interposed the
+judge, wiping his eyes. “Such scenes may be natural, and the
+court looks on them leniently; but time is precious, and my duty
+renders it necessary to interpose my authority to maintain the
+order of our proceedings. Let some of the ladies remove the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_454'>454</span>young lady; she is too delicate for the touch of a constable—but
+time is precious.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The judge was not precisely conscious, himself, of what he
+was saying, though he knew the general drift of his remarks.
+The process of blowing his nose interrupted his speech, more
+than once, and Anna was removed by the assistance of Marie
+Moulin, Sarah Wilmeter, and good Mrs. Gott; the latter sobbing
+like a child, while the other two scarce realized the consequences
+of the momentous word that had just been pronounced. Dunscomb
+took care that the whole group should quit the building,
+and be removed to the tavern.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>If the bar, and the spectators in general, had been surprised
+at the calmness of exterior maintained by the prisoner, previously
+to the verdict, their wonder was sensibly increased by the manner
+which succeeded it. Mary Monson’s beauty shone with increasing
+radiance as the justice of her country seemed to threaten her
+existence more and more; and at the particular moment when
+she was left alone, by the withdrawal of her female companions,
+many present fancied that she had increased in stature. Certainly,
+it was a rare sight to observe the illuminated countenance,
+the erect mien, and the offended air, with which one of the
+weaker sex, and one so youthful and charming, met a doom so
+terrible. Of the jury, she took no notice. Her eye was on the
+judge, who was endeavouring to muster sufficient fortitude to
+pronounce the final decision of the law.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Before the court pronounces sentence, Mr. Dunscomb,” observed
+that functionary, “it will cheerfully hear anything you
+may have to offer in behalf of the prisoner, or it will hear the
+prisoner herself. It is better, on every account, that all my
+painful duties be discharged at once, in order that the prisoner
+may turn her attention to the only two sources of mercy that
+now remain open to her—the earthly and the heavenly. My
+duty, as you well know, cannot now be avoided; and the sooner
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_455'>455</span>it is performed, perhaps, the better for all concerned. It shall
+be my care to see that the condemned has time to make all her
+appeals, let them be to the authorities here, or to the more
+dreaded power <a id='corr455.4'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='above.'>above.”</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_455.4'><ins class='correction' title='above.'>above.”</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am taken so much by surprise, your honour, at a verdict
+that, to say the least, is given on very doubtful testimony, that I
+hardly know what to urge. As the court, however, is disposed
+to indulgence, and there will be time to look at the law of the
+case, as well as to address our petitions and affidavits to the authority
+at Albany, I shall interpose no objection; and, as your
+honour well remarks, since the painful duty <em>must</em> be discharged,
+it were better, perhaps, that it were discharged now.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Prisoner at the bar,” resumed the judge, “you have heard
+the finding of the jury, in your case. A verdict of ‘guilty’ has
+been rendered, and it has become my painful duty to pronounce
+the awful sentence of the law. If you have anything to say previously
+to this, the last and most painful of all my duties, the
+court will give your words a kind and lenient hearing.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In the midst of a stillness that seemed supernatural, the sweet,
+melodious voice of Mary Monson was heard, “first gentle, almost
+inaudible,” but gathering strength as she proceeded, until it became
+clear, distinct, and silvery. There are few things that impart
+a higher charm than the voice; and the extraordinary prisoner
+possessed an organ which, while it was feminine and sweet,
+had a depth and richness that at once denoted her power in song.
+On the present occasion, it was not even tremulous.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe I understand you, sir,” Mary Monson commenced.
+“I have been tried and found guilty of having murdered Peter
+and Dorothy Goodwin, after having robbed them, and then of
+setting fire to the house.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have been tried for the murder of Peter Goodwin, only,
+the indictments for the second murder, and for the arson, not
+having yet been tried. The court has been obliged to separate
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_456'>456</span>the cases, lest the law be defeated on mere technicalities. This
+verdict renders further proceedings unnecessary, and the two remaining
+indictments will probably never be traversed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe I still understand you, sir; and I thank you sincerely
+for the kind manner in which you have communicated
+these facts, as well as for the consideration and gentleness you
+have manifested throughout these proceedings. It has been very
+kind in you, sir; and whatever may come of this, God will remember
+and reward you for it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The court will hear you, Mary Monson, if you have anything
+to say, before sentence be passed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps I might say and do much to affect your decision,
+sir,” returned the prisoner, leaning her fair brow, for a moment,
+on her hand, “but there would be little satisfaction in it. It
+was my wish to be acquitted on the testimony of the State. I
+did hope that this jury would not have seen the proofs of guilt,
+in the evidence that has been brought against me; and I confess
+there would be very little satisfaction to me in any other acquittal.
+As I understand the case, should I be acquitted as respects
+Peter Goodwin, I must still be tried as respects his wife; and
+lastly, for setting fire to the house.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are not acquitted of the murder of Peter Goodwin,”
+mildly interposed the judge; “the finding of the court has been
+just to the contrary.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am aware of this, sir. America has many enemies. I
+have lived in foreign lands, and know this from near and long
+observation. There are those, and those, too, who are in power,
+that would gladly see the great example in prosperity, peace and
+order, that this country has hitherto given to the world, beaten
+down by our own vices, and the mistaken uses to which the people
+put the blessings of Divine Providence. I do not reverence
+the justice of my country, as I did: it is impossible that I should
+do so. I now see plainly that its agents are not all of the character
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_457'>457</span>they should be; and that, so far from Justice’s being
+blind through her impartiality alone, she is also blind through
+her <a id='corr457.3'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='ignorance'>ignorance.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_457.3'><ins class='correction' title='ignorance'>ignorance.</ins></a></span> Why am I found guilty of this act? On what
+evidence—or even on what probability? The whole of the
+proof is connected with that piece of money. Mrs. Burton has
+testified that Mrs. Goodwin, herself, admitted that I had given
+her that coin—just what I told the coroner, and which I then
+saw was not believed, for it has been my misfortune to be tried
+by strangers. Will these gentlemen ask themselves why I have
+committed the crime of which they have found me guilty? It
+could not be for money; as of that I have, of my own, more than
+I want, more, perhaps, than it is good for me to be mistress of.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why have not these facts been shown to the jury, at the
+proper time and in the proper manner, if true?” demanded the
+judge, kindly. “They are material, and might have influenced
+the verdict.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The jury was discharged, but not one of them all had left the
+box. One or two of them now arose, and looks of doubt and
+indecision began to flicker over their countenances. They had
+been influenced by one man, a friend and political confidant of
+Williams, who had led the undecided to his own opinions. We
+do not mean to say that this man was perjured, or that he was
+himself conscious of the extent of the wrong he was doing; but
+his mind had been perverted by the serpent-like report, and he
+had tried the cause under the influence of rumours, which had
+no foundation in truth. The case was one of honest doubt, as
+no one will deny; but instead of giving the accused the benefit
+of this doubt, as by law and in reason he was bound to do, he had
+taken a bias altogether from outside influences, and that bias he
+communicated to others, until by the sheer force of numbers, the
+few who wavered were driven into a corner, and soon capitulated.
+Then, there was a morbid satisfaction in the minds of several of
+the jurors, in running counter to the charge of the judge. This
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_458'>458</span>was a species of independence that is grateful to some men, and
+they are guided by their vanity, when they fancy they are only
+led by conscience. These malign influences were unknown to
+themselves; for not one of the twelve was absolutely corrupt, but
+neither of them all was qualified by nature, or education, to be a
+judge, freed from the influence of the bench, in a case affecting
+a human life.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Any one in the least observant of what is going on around
+him, must have had many opportunities of perceiving how
+strangely juries render their verdicts, and how much the last appear
+to be opposed to the inferences of the looker-on, as well as
+to the expressed opinions of the courts. The falling off in the
+power of the judges over the minds of the jurors, we suppose to
+be derived from a combination of causes. The tendency of the
+times is to make men confident in their own judgments, and to
+defer less than formerly to knowledge and experience. Seeing
+this very general trait, the judges themselves defer to the tendency,
+manifest less confidence in their station and knowledge,
+and perhaps really feel it; while the unceasing cry of the infallibility
+of the common mind, induces the vulgar, or average intellect,
+to shrink from any collision with that which wears the semblance,
+even though simulated, of the popular will. In this way
+is the institution of the jury gradually getting to be perverted,
+rendering that which is safe as an human tribunal can well be,
+when under the guidance of the court, as dangerous as ignorance,
+party, self-will and obstinacy can well make it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not know,” resumed Mary Monson, “that one is yet
+obliged, in America, to lay open her account-books, and show
+her rent-roll, or her bonds and mortgages, in order to avoid the
+gallows. I have been told that crime must be brought home by
+unanswerable proof, in order to convict. Who can say that such
+proof has been adduced in my case? It has not even been made
+certain that a man was killed, at all. Most respectable witnesses
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_459'>459</span>have testified that they believe those revolting remains of poor
+humanity, belonged once to women. Nor has it been shown
+that any one has been murdered. The fire may have been accidental,
+the deaths a simple consequence of the fire, and no one
+guilty.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You forget, Mary Monson,” interposed the judge, mildly
+“that the robbery, and the piece of money found in your purse,
+give a colour to the supposition of crime. The jury have doubtless
+been influenced by these facts, and important facts they are.
+No one can deny this; and I think you overlook that feature of
+your case. If, however, your counsel has any good reason to
+offer why sentence should not now be pronounced, the court will
+hear it. There is no impatience on the part of justice, which
+would much rather draw in than stretch forth its arm. Perhaps,
+Mary Monson, you might do well to leave to your counsel the
+objections you wish to urge, and let them be presented to us in
+a form that we can recognise.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I see no great use in deferring the sentence,” Dunscomb
+remarked, quietly enough for the circumstances. “It must be
+pronounced; and any question of law, should one occur to my
+mind, though I confess none does at present, can as well be
+raised after this ceremony as before.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am disposed to wait, if a good reason can be urged for the
+delay. I will acknowledge that the case is one involved in a
+great deal of doubt and uncertainty, and am much inclined to do
+all the law will sanction. Still, I leave you to decide on your
+own course.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In my judgment, may it please your honour, we shall have
+to go to the executive, and it were, perhaps, better to get all the
+most revolting parts of the case over, while the accused—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Convicted, Mr. Dunscomb—it is a distinction painful to
+make, but one that cannot now be avoided.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I beg pardon of the court—convicted.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_460'>460</span>“Yes,” said Mary Monson, solemnly, “I am convicted, and
+of the revolting crime of murder. All my hopes of a triumphant
+acquittal are blasted; and, whatever may be the termination of
+this extraordinary affair, a dark spot will always rest on my name.
+Sir, I am as innocent of this crime as the youngest child in your
+county. I may have been wilful, perverse, ill-judging, unwise,
+and have a hundred other failings; but neither Peter nor Dorothy
+Goodwin did I ever harm. I had not been long in the house
+before I discovered that the old couple were not happy together.
+They quarrelled often, and bitterly. The wife was managing,
+dictatorial, and sordidly covetous, while he used every shilling
+he could obtain, for the purchase of liquors. His mind was affected
+by his debauches, and he drivelled. In this state, he
+came to me for sympathy and advice. There were passages in
+my own past life, short as it has been, which disposed me to feel
+for one who was not happy in the married state. It is no matter
+what my own experience has been; I had sympathy for that
+poor man. So far from wishing to do him harm, I desired to do
+him good. I advised him to quit the house, and live apart from
+his wife, for a time, at least; and this he consented to do, if I
+would furnish him with the means. Those means I promised;
+and, that he might not suffer, being of only feeble intellect, and
+in order to keep him from liquor, I had directed two of my agents
+to come to the house early in the morning of the very day that
+the fire happened, that they might convey Peter Goodwin to
+another residence, where he would be secret and safe, until his
+wife might repent of her treatment of him. It was fortunate for
+me that I had done this. Those two men, servants of my own,
+in the dress of countrymen, were the instruments of saving my
+life; without their aid, I should have perished in the flames.
+What they did, and how they did it, it would be premature now
+to say. Alas! alas! I have not been acquitted as I desired to
+be, and a dark shadow will for ever rest on my name!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_461'>461</span>For the first time, a doubt of the sanity of the prisoner, crossed
+the mind of the judge. It was not so much the incoherence of
+her language, as her eye, the flushed cheek, and a certain air of
+stealthy cunning, that awakened this distrust. Nevertheless,
+Mary Monson’s manner was sincere, her language chosen and
+perfectly proper, and her explanations not without their <a id='corr461.6'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='force'>force.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_461.6'><ins class='correction' title='force'>force.</ins></a></span>
+There was something so strange, however, in a portion of her
+statements; so irreconcileable with a sound discretion, that, taken
+with the little which had come to light concerning this singular
+woman’s past life, the doubt arose.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps it were better, Mr. District Attorney,” the judge
+observed, “if we delay the sentence.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As your honour may think fit. The state is not over-anxious
+for life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What say you, Mr. Dunscomb—shall there be delay, or
+shall I sentence?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As the sentence <em>must</em> come, the sooner it is over, the better.
+We have no ground on which to carry up the case, the jury
+being judges of the facts. Our principal hope must be in the
+discretion of the governor.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mary Monson,” continued the judge, evidently treating the
+affair as purely a matter of form, “you have been tried for feloniously
+depriving Peter Goodwin of his life—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I never did it,” interrupted the prisoner, in a voice so low
+as to be melodious, yet so clear as to be audible as the sound of
+a clarion. “These men have been influenced by the rumours
+they have heard, and were not fit to act as my judges. Men
+should have minds superior to mere reports, to sit in that box.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“My duty is to pronounce the sentence of the law. After a
+fair trial, and, so far as it appears to us, by an impartial jury,
+you have been found guilty. For reasons that are of sufficient
+weight to my mind, I shall not dwell on the character of the
+awful change you will have to undergo, should this decree be put
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_462'>462</span>in force, but confine myself simply to the duty of pronouncing
+the sentence of the law, which is this: that you be carried back
+to the gaol, and there be guarded, until Friday, the sixth day of
+September next, when between the hours of twelve and two,
+P. M., you be carried to the place of execution, and hanged by
+the neck, until you are dead—and God have mercy on your
+soul!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A shudder passed through the audience, at hearing language
+like this applied to a person of Mary Monson’s appearance, education
+and sex. This feeling might have manifested itself more
+strongly, had not Mrs. Horton attracted attention to herself, by
+forcing her way through the crowd, until she stood within the
+bar. Here the good woman, accustomed to bandy words with
+her guests, did not scruple to make her presence known to the
+court, by calling out—</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“They tell me, your honour, that Mary Monson has just been
+found guilty of the murder of Peter Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is so, my good woman—but that case is ended. Mr.
+Sheriff, remove the prisoner—time is precious—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, your honour, and so is eternity. Mary Monson is no
+more guilty of taking the life of Peter Goodwin than I am guilty.
+I’ve always said some great disgrace would befall our juries, one
+of these days, and now my prophecy will come true. Duke’s is
+disgraced. Constable, let that poor man come within the bar.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The drivelling creature who entered the room of McBrain
+tottered forward, when twenty voices cried aloud the name of
+“<em>Peter <a id='corr462.27'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Goodwin'>Goodwin.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_462.27'><ins class='correction' title='Goodwin'>Goodwin.</ins></a></span></em>” Every word that Mary Monson had stated
+was true!</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_463'>463</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Now Marcia, now call up to thy assistance,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind;</div>
+ <div class='line'>Thou can’st not put it to a greater trial.”</div>
+ <div class='line in33'><cite>Addison.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>Bench, bar, jury, witnesses and audience, were all <a id='corr463.6'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='astounded'>astounded.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_463.6'><ins class='correction' title='astounded'>astounded.</ins></a></span>
+The trial had been carried on in the most perfect good faith;
+and not a human being but the few who had felt the force of
+McBrain’s testimony, doubted of the death of the individual who
+now appeared alive, if not well, in open court. The reader can
+better imagine than we can describe, the effects of a resurrection
+so entirely unexpected.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>When the confusion naturally produced by such a scene had
+a little subsided; when all had actually seen, and many had
+actually felt, the supposed murdered man, as if to assure themselves
+of his being really in the flesh, order was restored; and
+the court and bar began to reflect on the course next to be pursued.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I suppose, Mr. District Attorney,” observed his honour,
+“there is no mistake in the person of this individual; but it
+were better if we had an affidavit or two. Will you walk this
+way, sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A long, private conference, now took place between the public
+prosecutor and the judge. Each expressed his astonishment at
+the result, as well as some indignation at the deception which
+had been practised on the court. This indignation was a little
+mollified by the impression, now common to both, that Mary
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_464'>464</span>Monson was a person not exactly in her right mind. There was
+so much deception practised among persons accused of crimes,
+however, and in connection with this natural infirmity, that public
+functionaries like themselves were necessarily very cautious in
+admitting the plea. The most offensive part of the whole affair
+was the discredit brought on the justice of Duke’s! It was not
+in nature for these individuals to be insensible to the sort of disgrace
+the reappearance of Peter Goodwin entailed on the county
+and circuit; and there was a very natural desire to wipe off the
+stain. The conference lasted until the affidavits to establish the
+facts connected with Goodwin’s case were ready.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Had these affidavits been presented earlier,” said his honour,
+as soon as the papers were read, “sentence would not have been
+pronounced. The case is novel, and I shall want a little time to
+reflect on the course I am to take. The sentence must be gotten
+rid of by some means or other; and it shall be my care to see it
+done. I hope, brother Dunscomb, the counsel for the accused
+have not been parties to this deception?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am as much taken by surprise as your honour can possibly
+be,” returned the party addressed, with earnestness, “not having
+had the most remote suspicion of the existence of the man said
+to have been murdered; else would all the late proceedings have
+been spared. As to the course to be taken next, I would respectfully
+suggest that the Code be examined. It is an omnium
+gatherum; and must contain something to tell us how to undo
+all we have done.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It were better for all parties had they so been. There are still
+two indictments pending over Mary Monson; one for the arson,
+and the other for the murder of Dorothy Goodwin. Mr. District
+Attorney feels the necessity of trying these cases, or one of them
+at least, in vindication of the justice of the State and county;
+and I am inclined to think that, under all the circumstances, this
+course should be taken. I trust we shall have no more surprises,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_465'>465</span>and that Dorothy Goodwin will be brought forward at once, if
+still living—time is precious.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Dorothy Goodwin is dead,” said Mary Monson, solemnly.
+“Poor woman! she was called away suddenly, and in her <a id='corr465.4'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='sins'>sins.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_465.4'><ins class='correction' title='sins'>sins.</ins></a></span>
+Little fear of her ever coming here to flout your justice.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It may be well to caution your client, Mr. Dunscomb, against
+hasty and indiscreet admissions. Let the accused be arraigned,
+and a jury be empannelled. Which case do you choose to move
+on, Mr. District Attorney?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb saw that his honour was offended, and much in
+earnest. He was offended himself, and half disposed to throw
+up his brief; but he felt for the situation of a lovely and defenceless
+woman. Then his doubts touching his client’s sanity began
+to take the character of certainty; and he saw how odious it
+would be to abandon one so afflicted in her emergency. He
+hinted his suspicion to the court; but was told that the fact, under
+all the circumstances of the case, was one properly for the jury.
+After reflection, the advocate determined not to desert his trust.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We pass over the preliminary proceedings. A jury was empannelled
+with very little difficulty; not a challenge having been
+made. It was composed, in part, of those who had been in the
+box on the late occasion; and, in part, of new men. There was
+an air of earnestness and business about them all, that Timms did
+not like; but it was too late to raise objections. To own the
+truth, the senior counsel cared much less than before for the
+result; feeling satisfied that his contemplated application at
+Albany would meet with consideration. It is true, Mary Monson
+was no anti-renter. She could not come forward with her demand
+for mercy with hands dyed in the blood of an officer of that public
+which lives under the deception of fancying it rules the land;
+murderers who added to their crimes the hateful and pestilent
+fraud of attempting to cloak robbery in the garb of righteous
+liberty; nor could she come sustained by numbers around the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_466'>466</span>ballot-box, and bully the executive into acts which the reason
+and conscience of every honest man condemn; but Dunscomb
+believed that she might come with the plea of a being visited by
+the power of her Creator, in constituting her as she was, a woman
+not morally accountable for her acts.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>All the leading facts, as shown on the former trial, were shown
+on this. When the country practitioners were called on to give
+their opinions concerning the effect of the blow, they necessarily
+became subject to the cross-examination of the counsel for the
+prisoner, who did not spare them.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Were you examined, sir, in the late trial of Mary Monson,
+for the murder of Peter Goodwin?” demanded Dunscomb of the
+first of these modern Galens who was put on the stand.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I was, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What did you say on that occasion”—looking at his notes
+of the other trial, “touching the sex of the persons to whom
+those skeletons were thought to have belonged?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I said I <em>believed</em>—not <em>knew</em>, but <em>believed</em>, they were the
+remains of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you not use stronger language than that?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not that I remember—I may have done so; but I do not
+remember it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you not say you had ‘<em>no doubt</em>’ that those were the remains
+of Peter and Dorothy Goodwin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I may have said as much as that. Now you mention the
+words, I believe I did.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you think so now?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly not. I cannot think so, after what I have seen.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you know Peter Goodwin, personally?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Very well. I have practised many years in this neighbourhood.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Whom, then, do you say that this unfortunate man here,
+whom we see alive, though a driveller, really is?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_467'>467</span>“Peter Goodwin—he who was thought to have been <a id='corr467.1'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='murdered'>murdered.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_467.1'><ins class='correction' title='murdered'>murdered.</ins></a></span>
+We are all liable to mistakes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You have testified in chief that, in your judgment, the two
+persons, of whom we have the remains here in court, were stunned
+at least, if not absolutely killed, by the blow that you think fractured
+each of their skulls. Now, I would ask if you think the
+prisoner at the bar possesses the physical force necessary to enable
+her to strike such a blow?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That would depend on the instrument she used. A human
+skull may be fractured easily enough, by a moderate blow struck
+by a heavy instrument.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What sort of instrument, for instance?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“A sword—a bar of iron—or anything that has weight and
+force.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you believe those fractures were given by the same
+blow?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do. By one and the same blow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you think Mary Monson possesses the strength necessary
+to cause those two fractures at a single blow?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Witness had no opinion on the subject.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Are the fractures material?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly—and must have required a heavy blow to produce
+them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was all that could be got from either of the witnesses on
+that material point. As respected McBrain, he was subsequently
+examined in reference to the same facts. Dunscomb made good
+use of this witness, who now commanded the respect of all present.
+In the first place, he was adroitly offered to the jury, as
+the professional man who had, from the first, given it as his
+opinion that both the skeletons were those of females; and this
+in the face of all the collected wisdom of Duke’s county; an
+opinion that was now rendered so probable as almost to amount
+to certainty. He (Dunscomb) believed most firmly that the remains
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_468'>468</span>were those of Dorothy Goodwin and the German woman
+who was missing.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Have you examined those skeletons, Dr. McBrain?” Dunscomb
+<a id='corr468.4'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='asked'>asked.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_468.4'><ins class='correction' title='asked'>asked.</ins></a></span></p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have, sir; and carefully, since the late trial.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How do you think the persons to whom they belonged came
+to their deaths?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I find fractures in the skulls of both. If they lie now as
+they did when the remains were found, (a fact that had been
+proved by several witnesses,) I am of opinion that a single blow
+inflicted the injuries on both; it may be, that blow was not sufficient
+to produce death; but it must have produced a stupor, or
+insensibility, which would prevent the parties from seeking refuge
+against the effects of the flames——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is the learned witness brought here to sum up the cause?”
+demanded Williams, with one of those demoniacal sneers of his,
+by means of which he sometimes carried off a verdict. “I wish
+to know, that I may take notes of the course of his argument.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>McBrain drew back, shocked and offended. He was naturally
+diffident, as his friend used to admit, in everything but wives;
+and as regarded them “he had the impudence of the devil.
+Ned would never give up the trade until he had married a dozen,
+if the law would see him out in it. He ought to have been a
+follower of the great Mahomet, who made it a point to take a
+new wife at almost every new moon!” The judge did not like
+this sneer of Williams; and this so much the less, because, in
+common with all around him, he had imbibed a profound respect
+for the knowledge of the witness. It is true, he was very much
+afraid of the man, and dreaded his influence at the polls; but he
+really had too much conscience to submit to everything. A judge
+may yet have a conscience—if the Code will let him.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is very irregular, Mr. Williams, not to say improper,”
+his honour mildly remarked. “The witness has said no more
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_469'>469</span>than he has a right to say; and the court must see him protected.
+Proceed with your testimony, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have little more to say, if it please the court,” resumed
+McBrain, too much dashed to regain his self-possession in a moment.
+As this was all Williams wanted, he permitted him to
+proceed in his own way; and all the doctor had to say was soon
+told to the jury. The counsel for the prosecution manifested
+great tact in not cross-examining the witness at all. In a subsequent
+stage of the trial, Williams had the impudence to insinuate
+to the jury that they did not attach sufficient importance to his
+testimony, to subject him to this very customary ordeal.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>But the turning point of this trial, as it had been that of the
+case which preceded it, was the evidence connected with the piece
+of money. As the existence of the notch was now generally
+known, it was easy enough to recognise the coin that had been
+found in Mary Monson’s purse; thus depriving the accused of
+one of her simplest and best means of demonstrating the ignorance
+of the witnesses. The notch, however, was Mrs. Burton’s
+great mark, under favour of which her very material testimony
+was now given as it had been before.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb was on the point of commencing the cross-examination,
+when the clear melodious voice of Mary Monson herself
+was heard for the first time since the commencement of the trial.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is it permitted to <em>me</em> to question this witness?” demanded
+the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly,” answered the judge. “It is the right of every
+one who is arraigned by the country. Ask <em>any</em> question that
+you please.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was a somewhat liberal decision as to the right of cross-examining;
+and the accused put on it a construction almost as
+broad as the privilege. As for the witness, it was very apparent
+she had little taste for the scrutiny that she probably foresaw she
+was about to undergo; and her countenance, attitude, and answers,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_470'>470</span>each and all betrayed how much distaste she had for the
+whole procedure. As permission was obtained, however, the
+prisoner did not hesitate to proceed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mrs. Burton,” said Mary Monson, adopting, as well as she
+knew how, the manner of the gentlemen of the bar, “I wish you
+to tell the court and jury <em>when</em> you first saw the notched piece
+of money?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“When I first saw it? I saw it first, when aunt Dolly first
+showed it to me,” answered the witness.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Most persons would have been dissatisfied with this answer,
+and would probably have caused the question to be repeated in
+some other form; but Mary Monson seemed content, and went
+on putting her questions, just as if she had obtained answers to
+meet her views.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you examine it well?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“As well as I desired to. There was nothing to prevent it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did you know it immediately, on seeing it in my purse?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Certainly—as soon as I saw the notch.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Did Mrs. Goodwin point out the notch to you, or did you
+point out the notch to her?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She pointed it out to me; she feared that the notch might
+lessen the value of the coin.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All this I have heard before; but I now ask you, Mrs. Burton,
+in the name of that Being whose eye is everywhere, did you
+not yourself put that piece of money in my purse, when it was
+passing from hand to hand, and take out of it the piece without
+a notch? Answer me, as you have a regard for your soul?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Such a question was altogether out of the rules regulating the
+queries that may be put to witnesses, an answer in the affirmative
+going directly to criminate the respondent; but the earnest manner,
+solemn tones, and, we may add, illuminated countenance of
+Mary Monson, so far imposed on the woman, that she quite lost
+sight of her rights, if she ever knew them. What is much more
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_471'>471</span>remarkable, neither of the counsel for the prosecution interposed
+an objection. The District Attorney was willing that justice
+should have its way; and Williams began to think it might be
+prudent to manifest less anxiety for a conviction than he had done
+in the case in which the party murdered had been resuscitated.
+The judge was entranced by the prisoner’s manner.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I believe I have as much regard for my soul as any of the
+neighbours have for theirs,” answered Mrs. Burton, sullenly.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Let us learn that in your reply—Did you, or did you not,
+change those pieces of gold?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps I might—It’s hard to say, when so much was said
+and done.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How came you with the other piece, with which to make the
+exchange? Answer, Sarah Burton, as you fear God?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The witness trembled like an aspen-leaf. So remarkable was
+the scene, that no one thought of interfering; but the judge, the
+bar, and the jury, seemed equally willing to leave the two females
+to themselves, as the most efficient means of extorting the truth.
+Mary Monson’s colour heightened; her mien and countenance
+grew, as it were, with the occasion; while Sarah Burton’s became
+paler and paler, as each question was put, and the reply pressed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I can have money, I hope, as well as other folks,” answered
+the witness.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is no reply. How came you with the piece of gold
+that is notched, that you could exchange it for the piece which
+was not notched, and which was the one really found in my purse?
+Answer me that, Sarah Burton; here, where we both stand in
+the presence of our great Creator?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There’s no need of your pressing a body so awfully—I
+don’t believe it’s law.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I repeat the question—or I will answer it for you. When
+you fired the house——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The woman screamed, and raised her hands in natural horror</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_472'>472</span>“I never set the house on fire,” she cried—“It took from the
+stove-pipe in the garret, where it had taken twice before.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How can you know <em>that</em>, unless you saw it?—How see it,
+unless present?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I was <em>not</em> there, and did not see it; but I know the garret
+had caught twice before from that cook-stove-pipe. Aunt Dolly
+was very wrong to neglect it as she did.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And the blows on the head—who struck those blows, Sarah
+Burton?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How can I tell? I wasn’t there—no one but a fool could
+believe <em>you</em> have strength to do it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How, then, <em>was</em> it done? Speak—I see it in your mind?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I saw the ploughshare lying on the heads of the skeletons;
+and I saw Moses Steen throw it off, in the confusion of first raking
+the embers. Moses will be likely to remember it, if sent for, and
+questioned.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Here was a most important fact elicited under the impulse of
+self-justification; and a corresponding expression of surprise,
+passed in a murmur, through the audience. The eye of Mary
+Monson kindled with triumph; and she continued with renewed
+powers of command over the will and conscience of the witness.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is well, Sarah Burton—it is right, and what you ought
+to say. You think that the fire was accidental, and that the fractured
+skulls came from the fall of the plough?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do. I know that the plough stood in the garret, directly
+over the bed, and the stove-pipe passed quite near it. There was
+an elbow in that pipe, and the danger was at that elbow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is well; and the eye above looks on you with less displeasure,
+Sarah Burton”—as this was said, the witness turned
+her looks timidly upwards, as if to assure herself of the fact—“Speak
+holy truth, and it will soon become benignant and forgiving.
+Now tell me how you came by the stocking and its
+contents?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_473'>473</span>“The stocking!” said the witness, starting, and turning white
+as a sheet. “Who says I took the stocking?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do. I know it by that secret intelligence which has been
+given me to discover truth. Speak, then, Sarah, and tell the court
+and jury the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nobody saw me take it; and nobody can say I took it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Therein you are mistaken. You <em>were</em> seen to take it. I
+saw it, for one; but there was another who saw it, with its motive,
+whose eye is ever on us. Speak, then, Sarah, and keep
+nothing back.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I meant no harm, if I did take it. There was so many folks
+about, I was afraid that some stranger might lay hands on it.
+That’s all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You were seen to unlock the drawers, as you stood alone
+near the bureau, in the confusion and excitement of the finding
+of the skeletons. You did it stealthily, Sarah Burton.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I was afraid some one might snatch the stocking from me.
+I always meant to give it up, as soon as the law said to whom it
+belongs. Davis wants it, but I’m not sure it is his.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What key did you use? Keep nothing back.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“One of my own. My keys unlocked many of aunt Dolly’s
+drawers. She knew it, and never found any fault with it. Why
+should she? Her keys unlocked <em>mine</em>!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Another word—where is that stocking, and where are its
+contents?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Both are safe in the third drawer of my own bureau, and
+here is the key,” taking one from her bosom. “I put them
+there for security, as no one opens that drawer but myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms took the key from the unresisting hand of the woman,
+and followed by Williams, Davis, and one or two more, he left
+the court-house. At that instant, Sarah Burton fainted. In the
+confusion of removing her into another room, Mary Monson resumed
+her seat.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_474'>474</span>“Mr. District Attorney, it can hardly be your intention to
+press this indictment any further?” observed the judge, wiping
+his eyes, and much delighted with the unexpected termination
+of the affair.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The functionary addressed was glad enough to be rid of his
+unwelcome office, and at once signified his willingness to enter a
+<span lang="la"><i>nolle prosequi</i></span>, by an application to the bench, in the case of the
+arson, and to submit to an acquittal in that now being traversed.
+After a brief charge from the judge, the jury gave a verdict of
+acquittal, without leaving the box; and just as this was done,
+Timms and his companions returned, bringing with them the
+much-talked-of stocking.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It required months completely to elucidate the whole affair;
+but so much is already known, and this part of our subject being
+virtually disposed of, we may as well make a short summary of
+the facts, as they were already in proof, or as they have since
+come to light.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The fire was accidental, as has been recently ascertained by
+circumstances it is unnecessary to relate. Goodwin had left his
+wife, the night before the accident, and she had taken the German
+woman to sleep with her. As the garret-floor above this
+pair was consumed, the plough fell, its share inflicting the blow
+which stunned them, if it did not inflict even a greater injury.
+That part of the house was first consumed, and the skeletons
+were found, as has been related, side by side. In the confusion
+of the scene, Sarah Burton had little difficulty in opening the
+drawer, and removing the stocking. She fancied herself unseen;
+but Mary Monson observed the movement, though she had then
+no idea what was abstracted. The unfortunate delinquent maintains
+that her intention, at the time, was good; or, that her sole
+object was to secure the gold; but, is obliged to confess that the
+possession of the treasure gradually excited her cupidity, until
+she began to hope that this hoard might eventually become her
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_475'>475</span>own. The guilty soonest suspect guilt. As to “the pure, all
+things are pure,” so it is with the innocent, who are the least
+inclined to suspect others of wicked actions. Thus was it with
+Mrs. Burton. In the commission of a great wrong herself, she
+had little difficulty in supposing that Mary Monson was the sort
+of person that rumour made her out to be. She saw no great
+harm, then, in giving a shove to the descending culprit. When
+looking into the stocking, she had seen, and put in her own
+pocket, the notched piece, as a curiosity, there being nothing
+more unusual in the guilty thus incurring unnecessary risks,
+than there is in the moth’s temerity in fluttering around the
+candle. When the purse of Mary Monson was examined, as
+usually happens on such occasions, we had almost said as <em>always</em>
+happens, in the management of cases that are subsequently to
+form a part of the justice of the land, much less attention was
+paid to the care of that purse than ought to have been bestowed
+on it. Profiting by the neglect, Sarah Burton exchanged the
+notched coin for the perfect piece, unobserved, as she again fancied;
+but once more the watchful eye of Mary Monson was on
+her. The first time the woman was observed by the last, it was
+accidentally; but suspicion once aroused, it was natural enough
+to keep a look-out on the suspected party. The act was seen,
+and at the moment that the accused thought happy, the circumstance
+was brought to bear on the trial. Sarah Burton maintains
+that, at first, her sole intention was to exchange the imperfect
+for the perfect coin; and that she was induced to swear to
+the piece subsequently produced, as that found on Mary Monson’s
+person, as a literal fact, ignorant of what might be its consequences.
+Though the devil doubtless leads us on, step by step,
+deeper and deeper, into crime and sin, it is probable that, in this
+particular, the guilty woman applied a flattering unction to her
+conscience, that the truth would have destroyed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Great was the wonder, and numberless were the paragraphs
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_476'>476</span>that this unexpected issue of the “great Biberry murders” produced.
+As respects the last, anything that will fill a column is
+a god-send, and the falsehood has even a value that is not to be
+found in the truth, as its contradiction will help along quite as
+much as the original statements. If the public could only be
+brought to see what a different thing publicity becomes in the
+hands of those who turn it to <em>profit</em>, from what it is thought to
+be, by those who fancy it is merely a mode of circulating facts, a
+great step towards a much-needed reformation would be taken,
+by confining the last within their natural limits.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mary Monson’s name passed from one end of the Union to
+the other, and thousands heard and read of this extraordinary
+woman, who never had the smallest clue to her real character or
+subsequent history. How few reflected on the defects of the
+system that condemned her to the gallows on insufficient testimony;
+or, under another phase of prejudice, might have acquitted
+her when guilty! The random decisions of the juries, usually
+well-meaning, but so rarely discriminating, or as intelligent as
+they ought to be, attract very little attention beyond the bar;
+and even the members of that often strike a balance in error,
+with which they learn to be content; gaining in one cause as
+much as they lose in another.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>There was a strong disposition in the people assembled at Biberry,
+on the occasion of the trial, to make a public spectacle of
+Mary Monson. The right to do this, with all things in heaven
+and earth, seems to belong to “republican simplicity,” which is
+beginning to rule the land with a rod of iron. Unfortunately
+for this feeling, the subject of momentary sympathy was not a
+person likely to allow such a license. She did not believe, because
+she had endured one set of atrocious wrongs, that she was
+bound to submit to as many more as gaping vulgarity might see
+fit to inflict. She sought the protection of good Mrs. Gott and
+her gaol, some forms being necessary before the sentence of death
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_477'>477</span>could be legally gotten rid of. In vain were the windows again
+crowded, with the virtuous wish of seeing how Mary Monson
+<em>looked</em>, now she was acquitted, just as they had been previously
+thronged in order to ascertain how she looked when there was a
+chance of her being condemned to the gallows. The most extraordinary
+part of the affair, was the circumstance that the harp
+became popular; the very sentiment, act, or thing that, in one
+condition of the common mind, is about to be ‘cut down and
+cast into the fire,’ becoming in another, all that is noble, commendable,
+or desirable. The crowd about the windows of the
+gaol, for the first few hours after the acquittal, was dying to
+hear the prisoner sing and play, and would gladly have tolerated
+the harp and a ‘foreign tongue’ to be thus gratified.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>But Mary Monson was safe from all intrusion, under the locks
+of the delighted Mrs. Gott. This kind-hearted person kissed
+her prisoner, over and over again, when she admitted her within
+the gallery, and then she went outside, and assured several of the
+more respectable persons in the crowd how thoroughly she had
+been persuaded, from the first, of the innocence of her friend.
+The circumstances of this important trial rendered Mrs. Gott a
+very distinguished person herself, in that crowd, and never was a
+woman happier than she while delivering her sentiments on the
+recent events.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It’s altogether the most foolish trial we have ever had in
+Duke’s, though they tell me foolish trials are getting to be only
+too common,” said the kind-hearted wife of the sheriff, addressing
+half-a-dozen of the more respectable of the crowd. “It gave
+me a big fright, I will <a id='corr477.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='own'>own.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_477.29'><ins class='correction' title='own'>own.</ins></a></span> When Gott was elected sheriff, I
+did hope he would escape all executions but debt <a id='corr477.30'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='executions'>executions.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_477.30'><ins class='correction' title='executions'>executions.</ins></a></span>
+The more he has of <em>them</em>, the better. It’s bad enough to escort
+thieves to Sing-Sing; but the gallows is a poor trade for a decent
+man to meddle with. Then, to have the very first sentence, one
+against Mary Monson, who is as much above such a punishment
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_478'>478</span>as virtue is above vice. When I heard those dreadful words, I
+felt as if a cord was round my own neck. But I had faith to
+the last; Mary has always told me that she should be acquitted,
+and here it has all come true, at last.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Do you know, Mrs. Gott,” said one of her friends, “it is
+reported that this woman—or lady, I suppose one must <em>now</em> call
+her—has been in the habit of quitting the gaol whenever she
+saw fit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Hu-s-h, neighbor Brookes; there is no need of alarming
+the county! I believe you are right; though it was all done
+without my knowledge, or it never would have been permitted.
+It only shows the power of money. The locks are as good as
+any in the State; yet Mary certainly did find means, unbeknown
+to me, to open them. It can’t be called breaking gaol, since she
+always came back! I had a good fright the first time I heard
+of it, but use reconciles us to all things. I never let Gott into
+the secret, though he’s responsible, as he calls it, for all his
+prisoners.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, when a matter turns out happily, it does no good to
+be harping on it always.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. Gott assented, and in this case, as in a hundred others,
+the end was made to justify the means. But Mary Monson was
+felt to be an exception to all rules, and there was no longer any
+disposition to cavil at any of her proceedings. Her innocence
+had been established so very triumphantly, that every person
+regarded her vagaries and strange conduct with indulgence.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At that very moment, when Mrs. Gott was haranguing her
+neighbours at the door of the gaol, Dunscomb was closeted with
+Michael Millington at the Inn; the young man having returned
+at hot-speed only as the court adjourned. He had been successful,
+notwithstanding his original disappointment, and had ascertained
+all about the hitherto mysterious prisoner of the Biberry
+gaol. Mary Monson was, as Dunscomb suspected, Mildred Millington
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_479'>479</span>by birth—Mad. de Larocheforte by marriage—and she
+was the grand-daughter of the very woman to whom he had been
+betrothed in youth. Her insanity was not distinctly recognised,
+perhaps could not have been legally established, though it was
+strongly suspected by many who knew her intimately, and was a
+source of great uneasiness with all who felt an interest in her
+welfare. Her marriage was unhappy, and it was supposed she
+had taken up her abode in the cottage of the Goodwins to avoid
+her husband. The command of money gave her a power to do
+very much as she pleased, and, though the breath of calumny
+had never yet blown its withering blast on her name, she erred
+in many things that are duties as grave as that of being chaste.
+The laws came in aid of her whims and caprices. There is no
+mode by which an errant wife can be made to perform her duties
+in boldly experimenting New York, though she can claim a
+support and protection from her husband. The ‘cup and saucer’
+law comes in aid of this power, and the men who cannot keep
+their wives in the chains of Hymen in virtue of the affections,
+may just as well submit, with a grace, to be the victims of an
+ill-judging and most treacherous regard for the rights of what
+are called the weaker sex.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_480'>480</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,</div>
+ <div class='line'>Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?”</div>
+ <div class='line in35'><cite>Cato.</cite></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The scene must now be shifted to Rattletrap. Biberry was
+deserted. Even the rumours with which its streets had been so
+lately filled, were already forgotten. None have memories as
+frail as the gossip. Not only does this class of persons—and a
+numerous class it is, including nearly all whose minds are not
+fitted to receive more elevated materials—not only, we say, does
+this class of persons overlook the contradictions and absurdities
+of the stories they repeat, but they forget the stories themselves
+almost as soon as heard. Such was now the case at <a id='corr480.13'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Biberry'>Biberry.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_480.13'><ins class='correction' title='Biberry'>Biberry.</ins></a></span>
+Scarce an individual could be found in the place who would acknowledge
+that he or she had ever heard that Mary Monson was
+connected with robbers, or who could recollect that he once fancied
+the accused guilty.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We may as well say here, that nothing has ever been done
+with Sarah Burton. She is clearly guilty; but the law, in these
+times of progress, disdains to pursue the guilty. Their crimes
+are known; and of what use can it be to expose those whom
+every one can see are offenders! No; it is the innocent who
+have most reason to dread the law. <em>They</em> can be put to trouble,
+cost, vexation and loss, if they cannot be exactly condemned.
+We see how thousands regard the law in a recent movement in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_481'>481</span>the legislature, by which suits have been ordered to try the titles
+of most of the large landed proprietors, with the very honest and
+modest proposal annexed, that their cases shall be prejudged, and
+the landlords deprived of the means of defending themselves, by
+sequestering their rents! Everybody says this is the freest country
+on earth; the only country that is truly free; but we must
+be permitted to say, that such a law, like twenty more that have
+been passed in the same interest within the last ten years, savours
+a good deal of the character of a Ukase.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Our characters, with the exception of McBrain and his bride,
+were now assembled at Rattletrap. Dunscomb had ascertained all
+it was necessary to know concerning Mildred, and had taken the
+steps necessary to protect her. Of her qualified insanity he did
+not entertain a doubt; though it was a madness so concealed
+by the blandishments of education and the graces of a refined
+woman, that few saw it, and fewer still wished to believe it true.
+On most subjects this unhappy lady was clear-minded and intelligent
+enough, more especially on that of money; for, while her
+expenditures were generous, and her largesses most liberal, she
+manifested wonderful sagacity in taking care of her property. It
+was this circumstance that rendered it so difficult to take any
+steps to deprive her of its control; though Dunscomb had seen
+enough, in the course of the recent trial, to satisfy him that such
+a measure ought to be resorted to in the interest of her own
+character.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was in cunning, and in all the low propensities connected
+with that miserable quality, that Mildred Millington, as she now
+insisted on calling herself, most betrayed her infirmity. Many
+instances of it have been incidentally related in the course of
+our narrative, however unpleasant such an exhibition has been.
+There is nothing more repugnant to the principles or tastes of
+the right thinking and right feeling, than the practices which
+cunning engenders. Timms, however, was a most willing agent
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_482'>482</span>in all the schemes of his client; though some of her projects had
+puzzled him by their elaborate duplicity, as much as they had
+astounded him by their boldness. These were the schemes that
+had their origin in obliquity of mind. Still, they were not without
+merit in the eyes of Timms, who was cunning without being
+mad.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Before quitting Biberry, Timms was liberally paid and dismissed.
+Dunscomb explained to him the situation of his handsome
+client, without adverting to the state of her mind; when
+the attorney at once caught at the chances of a divorce. Among
+the other “ways of the hour,” that of dissolving the marriage
+tie has got to be a sort of fashionable mania. Neither time, nor
+duties, nor children, seem to interpose any material obstacle;
+and, if our own laws do not afford the required facilities, those
+of some of our more liberal neighbours do. Timms keeps this
+principle in his mind, and is at this moment ruminating on the
+means by which he can liberate his late client from her present
+chains, and bind her anew in some of his own forging. It is
+scarcely necessary to add, that Mildred troubles herself very little
+in the premises, so far as this covert lover is concerned.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The ridicule of Williams was, at first, the sorest portion of
+Timms’s disappointment. Bachelors alike, and rivals for popular
+favour, these two worthies had long been looking out for advantageous
+marriages. Each had the sagacity to see that his chances
+of making a more and more eligible connexion were increasing
+slowly, and that it was a great thing for a rising man to ascend
+without dragging after him a wife chosen from among those that
+prop the base of the great social ladder. It was nuts to one of
+these competitors for the smiles of the ladies to discover that his
+rival was in love with a married woman; and this so much the
+more, because the prospects of Timms’s success, arising from his
+seeming intimacy with the fair occupant of the gaol, had given
+Williams a very serious fright. Place two men in competition,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_483'>483</span>no matter in what, and all their energies become concentrated in
+rivalry. Again and again, had these two individuals betrayed
+their mutual jealousy; and now that one of them had placed
+himself in a position so false, not to say ridiculous, the other did
+not fail to enjoy his disappointment to the top of his bent. It
+was in this manner that Saucy Williams took his revenge for the
+defeat in the trial.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mrs. Gott was also at Rattletrap. Dunscomb retained much
+of his original tenderness for Mildred, the grandmother of his
+guest of that name, and he granted her descendant every indulgence
+she could ask. Among other things, one of the requests
+of the liberated prisoner was to be permitted to manifest this
+sense of her gratitude for the many acts of kindness received
+from the wife of the sheriff. Gott, accordingly, was left to take
+care of himself, while his nice little companion was transported
+to a scene that she found altogether novel, or a temporary residence
+in a gentleman’s dwelling. Sarah’s housekeeping, Sarah’s
+good nature, attentions, neatness, attire and attractions, would
+have been themes to monopolize all of the good little woman’s
+admiration, had not Anna Updyke, then on a visit at Rattletrap,
+quite fairly come in for her full share. She might almost be
+said to be in love with both.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was just after breakfast that Mildred locked an arm in that
+of Anna, and led her young friend by one of the wooded paths
+that runs along the shores of the Hudson, terminating in a summer-house,
+with a most glorious view. In this, there was nothing
+remarkable; the eye rarely resting on any of the ‘bits’
+that adorn the banks of that noble stream, without taking in
+beauties to enchant it. But to all these our two lovely young
+women were momentarily as insensible as they were to the fact
+that their own charming forms, floating among shrubbery as fragrant
+as themselves, added in no slight degree to the beauty of
+the scene. In manner, Mildred was earnest, if not ardent, and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_484'>484</span>a little excited; on the other hand, Anna was placid, though
+sensitive; changing colour without ceasing, as her thoughts were
+drawn nearer and nearer to that theme which now included the
+great object of her existence.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Your uncle brought me letters from town last evening, Anna
+dear,” commenced the liberated lady: “one of them is from
+Mons. de Larocheforte. Is that not strange?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What is there so strange in a husband’s writing to his wife?
+To me, it seems the most natural thing in the world.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It does?—I am surprised to hear you say so—you, Anna,
+whom I regarded as so truly my friend. I have discarded Mons.
+de Larocheforte, and he ought to respect my pleasure.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It would have been better, my dear mamma, had you discarded
+him before marriage, instead of after.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ah—your dear mamma, indeed! I was your school mamma,
+Anna, and well had it been for me had I been left to finish
+my education in my own country. Then, I should have escaped
+this most unfortunate marriage! Do not marry, Anna—take
+my advice, and never marry. Matrimony is unsuited to ladies.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How long have you been of this opinion, dear mamma?”
+asked the young girl, smiling.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Just as long as I have been made to feel how it crushes a
+woman’s independence, and how completely it gives her a master,
+and how very, very humiliating and depressing is the bondage it
+inflicts. Do you not feel the force of my reasons?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I confess I do not,” answered Anna, in a subdued, yet clear
+and distinct voice. “I see nothing humiliating or depressing in
+a woman’s submission to her husband. It is the law of nature,
+and why should we wish to alter it? My mother has ever inculcated
+such opinions, and you will excuse me if I say I think
+the bible does, also.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The bible!—Yes, that is a good book, though I am afraid
+it is very little read in France. I ought, perhaps, to say, ‘read
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_485'>485</span>very little by strangers resident in France.’ The French women,
+themselves, are not one half as negligent of their duties, in this
+respect, as are the strangers who go to reside among them.
+When the roots, that have grown to any size in their native soil,
+are violently transplanted to another, it is not often that the tree
+obtains its proper dimensions and grace. I wish I had never
+seen France, Anna, in which case I should never have been
+Mad. de Larocheforte—<span lang="fr"><i>vicomtesse</i></span>, by the old law, and I am
+afraid it was that idle appellation that entrapped me. How much
+more truly respectable I should have been as Mrs. John Smith,
+or Mrs. John Brown, or Mrs. David Smith, the wife of a countryman,
+if I must be a wife, at all!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Choose at least some name of higher pretension,” said Anna,
+laughing. “Why not a Mrs. Van Rensselaer, or a Mrs. Van
+Cortlandt, or a Mrs. Livingston, or a Mrs. Somebody else, of one
+of our good old families?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Families!—Do you know, child, it is treason to talk of families
+in this age of anti-rentism. They tell me that the man who
+makes an estate, may enjoy it, should he happen to know how,
+and this, though he may have cheated all he ever dealt with, in
+order to become rich; but, that he who inherits an estate, has no
+claim. It is his tenants who have the high moral claim to his
+father’s property.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I know nothing of all this, and would rather talk of things
+I understand.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“By which you mean wedlock, and its cares! No, my dear,
+you little understand what matrimony is, or how much humiliation
+is required of us women to become wives, or you would
+never think of marrying.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have never told you that I <em>do</em> think of marrying—that is,
+not much.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There spoke your honest nature, which will not permit even
+an unintended deception. This it was that so much attached me
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_486'>486</span>to you as a child; for, though I am not very ingenuous myself,
+I can admire the quality in another.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This admission does not exactly prove the truth of your
+words, mamma!” said Anna, smiling.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No matter—let us talk of matrimony. Has John Wilmeter
+proposed to you, Anna?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>This was a home question; no wonder the young lady started.
+After a short, musing pause, however, the native candour of
+Anna Updyke prevailed, and she admitted that he had.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Thank you for this confidence; but you must go further.
+Remember, I am your mamma. Is the gentleman accepted?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A rosy blush, succeeded by a nod of the head, was the answer.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am sorry I was not consulted, before all this happened;
+though I have managed my own matters so ill, as to have very
+few claims to your confidence. You scarce know what you undertake,
+my child.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I undertake to become Jack Wilmeter’s wife,” answered the
+betrothed, in a very low but a very firm voice; “and I hope I
+shall make him a good one. Most of all, do I pray to be obedient
+and submissive.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To no man that breathes, Anna!—no, to no man breathing!
+It is <em>their</em> business to submit to <em>us</em>; not we to them!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“This is not my reading of the great rule of woman’s conduct.
+In my view of our duties, it is the part of woman to be affectionate,
+mild, patient and sympathizing,—if necessary, forgiving. I
+firmly believe that, in the end, such a woman cannot fail to be
+as happy as is permitted to us to be, here on earth.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Forgiving!” repeated Mildred, her eyes flashing; “yes, <a id='corr486.28'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='tha'>that</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_486.28'><ins class='correction' title='tha'>that</ins></a></span>
+is a word often used, yet how few truly practise its <a id='corr486.29'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='teachings'>teachings.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_486.29'><ins class='correction' title='teachings'>teachings.</ins></a></span>
+Why should I forgive any one that has wronged me? Our
+nature tells us to resent, to punish, if necessary, as you say—to
+revenge.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>A slight shudder passed through the frame of Anna, and she
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_487'>487</span>unconsciously moved farther from her companion, though their
+aims still continued locked.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There must be a great difference between France and America,
+if revenge is ever taught to a woman, as a part of her duty,”
+returned the younger female, now speaking with an earnestness
+she had not before betrayed; “here, we are told that Christianity
+forbids the very thought of it, and that to forgive is among the
+very first of our duties. My great instructor in such things, has
+told me that one of the surest evidences of a hopeful state of the
+feelings, is the banishment of every thing like resentment, and a
+desire to be at peace with all around us—to have a perception
+that we love the race as beings of our own wants and hopes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Is this the sort of love, then, with which you give your hand
+to young Wilmeter?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Scarlet is not brighter than was the colour that now glowed
+in the cheeks of Anna, stole into her temples, and even diffused
+itself over her neck and chest. To herself it seemed as if her
+very hands blushed. Then the power of innocence came to sustain
+her, and she became calm and steady.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is <em>not</em> the feeling with which I shall marry John,” she
+said. “Nature has given us another sentiment, and I shall not
+endeavour to be superior to all of my sex and class. I love
+John Wilmeter, I own; and I hope to make him happy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“To be a dutiful, obedient wife, for ever studying his tastes
+and caprices!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I trust I shall not be <em>for ever</em> studying the indulgence of my
+own. I see nothing degrading to a woman, in her filling the
+place nature and Christianity have assigned to her, and in her
+doing her duty, as a wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“These are not <em>my</em> feelings, receiving your terms as you wish
+them to be understood. But several have told me I ought
+never to have married; I myself know that I should have been
+an American, and not a French wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_488'>488</span>“I have ever heard that greater latitude is given to our sex,
+in France, than in this country.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is true in part only. Nothing can exceed the <span lang="fr"><b>retenue</b></span>
+of a French girl, or anything that is decent exceed the want of
+it that is manifested by many Americans. On the other hand,
+a married woman here, has no privileges at all, not even in
+society; while in France, under an air of great seeming propriety,
+she does very much as she sees fit. It is a mistake, however,
+to suppose that faithful wives, and devoted mothers, most
+especially the last, are not to be found all over Europe—in
+France, in particular.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am glad to hear it,” cried Anna, with a really gratified
+air; “it gives me pleasure when I hear of any of our sex behaving
+as they should behave.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Should behave! I fear, Anna, a little covert reproach is
+intended, in that remark. Our estimate of the conduct of our
+friends must depend on our notions of our own duties. Now,
+hearken to my manner of reasoning on this subject. In a physical
+sense, man is strong, woman is weak; while, in a moral
+sense, woman is strong and man is weak. You admit my
+premises?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The first part of them, certainly,” said Anna, laughing,
+“while I pretend to no knowledge of the last.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You surely do not believe that John Wilmeter is as pure,
+ingenuous, good, as you are yourself?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I see no reason why he should not be. I am far from certain
+Jack is not even better.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is useless to discuss such a subject with you. The principle
+of pride is wanting, without which you can never enter into
+my feelings.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am glad it is so. I fancy John will be all the happier for
+it. Ah! my dear mamma, I never knew any good come of what
+you call this ‘principle of pride.’ We are told to be humble
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_489'>489</span>and not to be proud. It may be all the better for us females
+that rulers are given to us here, in the persons of our husbands.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Anna Updyke, do you marry John Wilmeter with the feeling
+that he is to rule? You overlook the signs of the times,
+the ways of the hour, child, if you do aught so weak! Look
+around you, and see how everybody, almost everything, is becoming
+independent, our sex included. Formerly, as I have
+heard elderly persons say, if a woman suffered in her domestic
+relations, she was compelled to suffer all. The quarrel lasted for
+a life. Now, no one thinks of being so unreasonably wretched.
+No, the wronged wife, or even the offended wife—Monsieur de
+Larocheforte snuffs abominably—abominably—yes, abominably—but
+no wife is obliged, in these times of independence and
+reason, to endure a snuffy husband——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“No,” broke in Dunscomb, appearing from an adjoining path,
+“she has only to pack up her spoons and be off. The Code can
+never catch her. If it could on one page, my life for it there is
+a hole for her to get out of its grasp on the next. Your servant,
+ladies; I have been obliged to overhear more of your conversation
+than was intended for my ears, perhaps; these paths running
+so close to each other, and you being so animated—and now, I
+mean to take an old man’s privilege, and speak my mind. In
+the first place, I shall deal with the agreeable. Anna, my love,
+Jack is a lucky fellow—far luckier than he deserves to be. You
+carry the right sentiment into wedlock. It is the right of the
+husband to be the head of his family; and the wife who resists
+his authority is neither prudent nor a Christian. He may abuse
+it, it is true; but, even then, so long as criminality is escaped, it
+were better to submit. I approve of every word you have uttered,
+dear, and thank you for it all in my nephew’s name. And now,
+Mildred, as one who has a right to advise you, by his avowed
+love for your grandmother, and recent close connection with yourself,
+let me tell you what I think of those principles that you
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_490'>490</span>avow, and also of the state of things that is so fast growing up
+in this country. In the first place, he is no true friend of your
+sex who teaches it this doctrine of independence. I should think—it
+is true, I am only a bachelor, and have no experience to
+back me—but, I should think that a woman who truly loves
+her husband, would find a delight in her dependence——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! certainly!” exclaimed Anna—biting her tongue at the
+next instant, and blushing scarlet at her own temerity.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I understand you, child, and approve again—but there
+comes Jack, and I shall have to turn you over to him, that you
+may receive a good scolding from head-quarters, for this abject
+servitude feeling, that you have betrayed. Go—go—his arm
+is held out already—and harkee, young folk, remember that a
+new maxim in morals has come in with the Code—‘Principles
+depend on Circumstances.’ That is the rule of conduct now-a-days—that,
+and anti-rentism, and ‘republican simplicity,’ and
+the ‘cup-and-saucer <a id='corr490.17'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='law,”'>law,’</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_490.17'><ins class='correction' title='law,”'>law,’</ins></a></span> and—and—yes—and the ever-blessed
+Code!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb was obliged to stop for breath, which gave the
+young couple an opportunity to walk away. As for Mildred, she
+stood collected, extremely lady-like in mien, but with a slight
+degree of hauteur expressed in her countenance.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“And now, sir, that we are alone,” she said, “permit me to
+inquire what <em>my</em> part of the lecture is to be. I trust you will
+remember, however, that, while I am Mildred Millington by
+birth, the law which you so much reverence and admire, makes
+me Madame de Larocheforte.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You mean to say that I have the honour of conversing with
+a married woman?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Exactly so, Mr. Dunscomb.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I comprehend you, ma’am, and shall respect your position.
+You are not about to become my niece, and I can claim no right
+to exceed the bounds of friendship——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_491'>491</span>“Nay, my dear sir, I do not wish to say this. You have
+every right to advise. To me, you have been a steady and well
+judging friend, and this, in the most trying circumstances. I am
+ready to hear you, sir, in deference, if not in your beloved humility.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That which I have to say refers solely to your own happiness,
+<a id='corr491.6'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='Mildred'>Mildred.</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_491.6'><ins class='correction' title='Mildred'>Mildred.</ins></a></span> Your return to America has, I fear, been most
+inopportune. Among other innovations that are making on
+every side of us, even to the verge of the dissolution of civilized
+society, comes the liberty of woman. Need I tell you, what will
+be the next step in this downward career?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You needs must, Mr. Dunscomb—I do not comprehend you.—What
+will that step be?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Her licentiousness. No woman can throw off the most
+sacred of all her earthly duties, in this reckless manner, and
+hope to escape from the doom of her sex. After making a proper
+allowance for the increase of population, the increase in separated
+married people is getting to be out of all proportion.
+Scarce a month passes that one does not hear of some wife who
+has left her husband, secreted herself with a child perhaps, as
+you did, in some farm-house, passing by a different name, and
+struggling for her rights, as she imagines. Trust me, Mildred,
+all this is as much opposed to nature as it is to prescribed duties.
+That young woman spoke merely what an inward impulse, that
+is incorporated with her very being, prompted her to utter. A
+most excellent mother—oh! what a blessing is that to one of
+your sex—how necessary, how heavenly, how holy!—an excellent
+mother has left her in ignorance of no one duty, and <a id='corr491.28'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='he'>her</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_491.28'><ins class='correction' title='he'>her</ins></a></span>
+character has been formed in what I shall term harmony with
+her sex. I must be plain, Mildred—you have not enjoyed this
+advantage. Deprived of your parent young, known to be rich,
+and transplanted to another soil, your education has necessarily
+been entrusted to hirelings, flatterers, or persons indifferent to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_492'>492</span>your real well-being; those who have consulted most the reputation
+of their instruction, and have paid the most attention to
+those arts which soonest strike the eye, and most readily attract
+admiration. In this, their success has been complete.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“While you think it has not been so much so, sir, in more
+material things?” said the lady, haughtily.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Let me be sincere. It is due to my relation to you—to your
+grandmother—to the past—to the present time. I know the
+blood that runs in your veins, Mildred. You are self-willed by
+descent, rich by inheritance, independent by the folly of our
+legislators. Accident has brought you home, at the very moment
+when our ill-considered laws are unhinging society in many of its
+most sacred interests; and, consulting only an innate propensity,
+you have ventured to separate from your husband, to conceal
+yourself in a cottage, a measure, I dare say, that comported well
+with your love of the romantic——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not so—I was oppressed, annoyed, unhappy at home, and
+sought refuge in that cottage. Mons. de Larocheforte has such
+a passion for snuff!—He uses it night and day.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Then followed the serious consequences which involved you
+in so many fearful dangers——”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“True,” interrupted the lady, laying her small, gloved hand
+hastily on his arm—“very true, dear Mr. Dunscomb; but how
+cleverly I contrived to escape them all!—how well I managed
+your Mr. Timms, good Mrs. Gott, the puffy, pompous sheriff,
+that wily Williams too, whose palm felt the influence of my gold—oh!
+the excitement of the last two months has been a gift of
+paradise to me, and, for the first time since my marriage, have I
+known what true happiness was!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb turned, astonished, to his companion, and stared
+her in the face. Never was the countenance more lovely to the
+cursory glance, the eye brighter, the cheek with a richer glow
+on it, or the whole air, mien and attitude more replete with
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_493'>493</span>womanly loveliness, and womanly graces; but the observant eye
+of the lawyer penetrated beyond all these, and detected the unhappy
+spirit which had gained possession of a tenement so
+lovely. The expression of the countenance denoted the very
+triumph of cunning. We pretend not to a knowledge of the
+arcana of nature, to be able to detect the manner in which the
+moving principles prompt to good or evil, but we must reject all
+sacred history, and no small portion of profane, not to believe
+that agencies exist that are not visible to our ordinary senses;
+and that our boasted reason, when abandoned to its own support,
+becomes the victim of those that are malign. We care not by
+what names these agents are called, imps, demons, evil spirits,
+or evil passions; but this we do know, let him beware who submits
+to their control. Better, far better, were it that such an
+one had never been born!</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Three days later Mildred Millington was in a state that left
+no doubt of her infirmity. The lucid intervals were long, however,
+and at such times her mind seemed clear enough on all
+subjects but one. Divorce was her “ruling passion,” and, in
+order to effect her purpose, all the extraordinary ingenuity of a
+most fertile mind was put in requisition. Although means were
+promptly, but cautiously, taken to see that she did not squander
+her large pecuniary resources, Dunscomb early saw that they
+were uncalled for. Few persons were better qualified to look
+after their money than was this unfortunate lady, in the midst
+of the dire visitation that intellectually reduced her below the
+level of most around her. On this head her sagacity was of
+proof; though her hand was not closed in the gripe of a miser.
+Accustomed, from childhood, to a liberal expenditure, she was
+willing still to use the means that an inscrutable Providence had
+so liberally placed in her way, her largesses and her charities
+continuing the same as ever. Down to the present moment the
+fund-holder, the owner of town property, the mortgagee, and the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_494'>494</span>trader is allowed to enjoy his own, without any direct interference
+of the demagogue with his rights; but how much longer this
+exception is to last, is known only to the Being who directs the
+destinies of nations; or, at least, not to any who are now on
+earth, surrounded equally by the infirmities and ignorance of the
+present state.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>But Mildred was, and is yet, permitted to exercise her rights
+over her own property, though care is had to see that no undue
+advantage is taken of her sex, years, and ignorance. Beyond
+this her control was not disputed, and she was suffered to manage
+her own affairs. She set about the matter of a divorce with the
+whole energy of her nature, and the cunning of her malady.
+Timms was again summoned to her service, unknown to Dunscomb,
+who would never have winked at the measures that were
+taken, though so much in accordance with “the ways of the
+hour.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Provided with proper credentials, this managing agent sought
+an interview with Mons. de Larocheforte, a worn-out debauchee
+of some rank, who, sooth to say, had faults even graver than that
+of taking snuff. Notwithstanding the great personal attractions
+of Mildred, the motive for marrying her had been money: as is
+usually the case in a very great proportion of the connections of
+the old world, among persons of condition. Love is to succeed,
+and not to precede, matrimony. Mildred had been taught that
+lesson, and grievously had she been disappointed. The snuff
+got into her eyes. Mons. de Larocheforte—Mons. le Vicomte
+as he had been, and was still determined to be, and in all probability
+will be, in spite of all the French “republican simplicity”
+that was ever summoned to a nation’s rescue—Mons. le Vicomte
+was directly approached by Timms, and a proposal made that he
+should put himself in a condition to be divorced, for a stipulated
+price. Notwithstanding the opinion of the learned Attorney-General
+of this great state, of the European aristocracy, and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_495'>495</span>who is so every way qualified to give such an opinion, <span lang="la"><i>ex officio</i></span>
+as it might be, Mons. de Larocheforte declined lending himself
+to so vile a proposition, Frenchman and noble as he was. Nor
+did the husband believe that the discreditable proposal came from
+his wife. He compelled Timms to admit as much, under a
+menace of losing his case. That worthy was puzzled at this result,
+for he had made the proposal on his “own hook,” as he
+afterwards explained the matter to Williams, in the fullest confidence
+of “republican simplicity,” and was astonished at meeting
+with the self-respect of a gentleman, if with no very elevated
+principles in a nobleman! It was accordingly necessary to have
+recourse to some other mode of proceeding.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Luckily for the views of Timms and his fair client, one can
+scarcely go amiss in this country, when a divorce is desired.
+Although a few of the older states remain reasonably inflexible
+on this subject, in some respects <em>unreasonably</em> so, indeed, they
+are generally surrounded by communities that are more indulgent.
+By means of some <span lang="la"><i>hocus pocus</i></span> of the law, that we pretend not
+to explain, the names of Gabriel Jules Vincent Jean Baptiste de
+Larocheforte ads. Mildred de Larocheforte, were just beginning
+to steal on the dawn of the newspapers, in a case that, ere long,
+might blaze in the meridian of gossip.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb frowned, and reproached, but it was too late to recede.
+He has told Mildred, and he has told Timms, that nuptial knots
+tied in one community, cannot be so readily unloosed in another,
+as many imagine; and that there must, at least, be good faith—the
+<span lang="la"><i>animus revertendi</i></span>—in the change of residence that usually
+precedes the application. But money is very powerful, and
+smooths a thousand difficulties. No one could predict the termination;
+and, as the vicomte, though only to be approached in a
+more delicate way than that adopted by Timms, was as tired of the
+connection as his wife, and was very anxious to obtain a larger
+share of the fortune than the “cup and saucer” law will give
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_496'>496</span>him, it was by no means improbable that the end of the affair would
+be a quasi divorce, that would at least enable each party to take his
+or her own course, without fear of molestation from the other.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In the mean time, Millington was married very shortly after
+the trial. The engagement had not been long, but the parties
+had known each other intimately for years. The bridegroom, in
+one sense, was the head of his family, though by no means possessed
+of its largest fortune. In this character, it devolved on
+him to care for the interests of his fair relative. Although as
+much opposed as Dunscomb to the course she was taking, he did
+not shrink from his duties as a relative; and it is understood
+that his house is Mildred’s home when in town. Rattletrap
+opened its hospitable doors to the unfortunate woman, whenever
+she chose to visit the place; and Timbully has also claims on
+her time and presence.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb announced his intention to retire from practice at
+the end of a twelvemonth, the morning that Michael and Sarah
+were married. In the intervening time, John Wilmeter and his
+new nephew were received as partners, and the worthy bachelor
+is now sedulously but silently transferring as respectable and
+profitable a list of clients, as any man in the courts can claim.
+His own advice is promised, at all times, to his old friends; and,
+as not a soul has objected, and the young men bid fair, there is
+every reason to hope that useful and profitable labour will keep
+both out of mischief.</p>
+
+<div class='figcenter id004'>
+<img src='images/i_500.jpg' alt='' class='ig001'>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+ <span class='pageno' id='Page_497'>497</span>
+ <h2 class='c009'>CHAPTER XXX.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c006'>
+ <div class='linegroup'>
+ <div class='group'>
+ <div class='line'>“Some curate has penn’d this invective,</div>
+ <div class='line'>And you have studied it.”</div>
+ <div class='line in24'><span class='sc'>Massinger.</span></div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c011'>The day set apart for the nuptials of John Wilmeter and
+Anna Updyke finally arrived. The ceremony was to take place
+in a little church that had stood, time out of mind, in the
+immediate neighbourhood of Timbully. This church was colonial
+in its origin, and, while so much around it has undergone
+vital changes, there stands that little temple, reared in honour
+of God, in its simplicity, unpretending yet solid and durable
+architecture, resembling, in all these particulars, the faith it was
+erected to sustain. Among the other ways of the hour that are
+worthy of our notice, the church itself has sustained many rude
+shocks of late—shocks from within as well as from without.
+The Father of Lies has been roving through its flocks with
+renewed malice, damaging the shepherds, perhaps, quite as much
+as the sheep, and doing things hitherto unheard of in the brief
+annals of American Ecclesiastical History. Although we deeply
+regret this state of things, we feel no alarm. The hand which
+first reared this moral fabric will be certain to protect it as far as
+that protection shall be for its good. It has already effected a
+great reform. The trumpet is no longer blown in Zion in our
+own honour; to boast of the effects of a particular discipline; to
+announce the consequences of order, and of the orders; or, in
+short, to proclaim a superiority that belongs only to the Head
+of all the churches, let them be farther from, or nearer to, what
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_498'>498</span>are considered distinctive principles. What the church is now
+enduring the country itself most sadly wants,—a lesson in
+humility; a distrust of self, a greater dependence on that wisdom
+which comes, not from the voices of the people, not from the
+ballot-boxes, not from the halls of senates, from heroes, godlikes,
+or stereotyped opinions, but from above, the throne of the
+Most High.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In one of those little temples reared by our fathers in the
+days of the monarchy, when, in truth, greater republican simplicity
+really reigned among us, in a thousand things, than reigns
+to-day, the bridal party from Timbully was assembled at an early
+hour of the morning. The company was not large, though it
+necessarily included most of the nearest relatives of the bride and
+groom. Dunscomb was there, as were Millington and his wife;
+Dr. and Mrs. McBrain, of course, and two or three other relations
+on the side of the bride’s father, besides Mildred. It was
+to be a private wedding, a thing that is fast getting to be forgotten.
+Extravagance and parade have taken such deep root
+among us that young people scarce consider themselves legally
+united unless there are six bride’s maids, one, in particular, to
+“pull off the glove;” as many attendants of the other sex, and
+some three or four hundred friends in the evening, to bow and
+curtsy before the young couple, utter a few words of nonsense,
+and go their way to bow and curtsy somewhere else.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>There was nothing of this at Timbully, on that wedding-day.
+Dunscomb and his nephew drove over from Rattletrap, early in
+the morning, even while the dew was glittering on the meadows,
+and Millington and his wife met them at a cross-road, less than
+a mile from McBrain’s country-house. The place of rendezvous
+was at the church itself, and thither the several vehicles directed
+their way. Dunscomb was just in time to hand Mildred from
+her very complete travelling-carriage, of which the horses were
+in a foam, having been driven hard all the way from town.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_499'>499</span>Last of all, appeared Stephen Hoof, driving the very respectable
+looking Rockaway of Mrs. McBrain—we were on the point of
+writing his “master,” but there are no longer any ‘masters’ in
+New York. Stephen, himself, who had not a spark of pride,
+except in his horses, and who was really much attached to the
+person he served, always spoke of the doctor as his “boss.”
+Jack Wilmeter, somewhat of a wag, had perplexed the honest
+coachman, on a certain occasion, by telling him that “boss” was
+the Latin for “ox,” and that it was beneath his dignity to be
+using Pill and Pole-us (Bolus) to drag about “oxen.” But
+Stephen recovered from this shock in due time, and has gone on
+ever since, calling his master “boss.” We suppose this touch
+of “republican simplicity” will maintain its ground along
+with the other sacred principles that certain persons hold on to
+so tightly that they suffer others, of real importance, to slip
+through their fingers.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Stephen was proud of his office that day. He liked his new
+mistress—there are no bossesses—and he particularly liked Miss
+Anna. His horses were used a good deal more than formerly,
+it is true; but this he rather liked too, having lived under the
+<span lang="fr"><i>régimes</i></span> of the two first Mrs. McBrain. He was doubly satisfied
+because his team came in fresh, without having a hair turned,
+while that of <em>Madam</em>, as all the domestics now called Mildred,
+were white with foam. Stephen took no account of the difference
+in the distance, as he conceived that a careful coachman
+would have had his “boss” up early enough to get over the
+ground in due season, without all this haste. Little did he understand
+the bossess that his brother-whip had to humour. She
+paid high, and had things her own way.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna thought Stephen had never driven so fast as he did
+that morning. The doctor handed her from the carriage, leading
+her and his wife directly up to the altar. Here the party
+was met by John and his uncle, the latter of whom facetiously
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_500'>500</span>styled himself the “groomsman.” It is a ceremony much more
+easily done than undone—great as the facilities for the last are
+getting to be. In about five minutes, John Wilmeter and Anna
+Updyke were pronounced to be “one flesh.” In five minutes
+more, Jack had his sweet, smiling, happy, tearful bride, in his
+own light vehicle, and was trotting away towards a pretty little
+place in Westchester, that he owns, and which was all ready to
+receive the young couple. The ponies seemed to understand
+their duty, and soon carried the bride and bridegroom out of
+sight.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Them’s awful trotters, them nags of Mr. Jack Wilmington’s,”
+said Stephen, as the double phaeton whirled away from the church
+door, “and if Miss Anny doesn’t disapprove on ’em, afore long,
+I’m no judge of a team. I’m glad, however, the young gentleman
+has married into our family, for he does like a hoss, and
+the gentleman that likes a hoss commonly likes his vife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>His remark was overheard by Dunscomb, though intended
+only for the ears of the counsellor’s coachman. It drew an answer,
+as might have been foreseen.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am glad you approve of the connexion, Stephen,” said the
+counsellor in his good-natured way. “It is a great satisfaction
+to know that my nephew goes among friends.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Fri’nds, Sir! Admirers is a better tarm. I’m a downright
+admirer of Mr. Jack, he’s sich tastes; always with his dog, or
+his gun, or his hoss, in the country; and I dares to say, with
+his books in town.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not just all that, Stephen; I wish it were so; but truth
+compels me to own that the young rogue thinks quite as much
+of balls, and suppers, and tailors, and the opera, as he does of
+Coke upon Lyttleton, or Blackstone and Kent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Vell, that’s wrong,” answered Stephen, “and I’ll uphold
+no man in vot’s wrong, so long as I can do better. I know’d
+both them racers, having heard tell on ’em at the time they vos
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_501'>501</span>run, and I’ve beard good judges say, that timed the hosses, that
+Kent come in neck and neck, if justice had been done. Mr.
+Jack will rectify, and come to see the truth afore long—mattermony
+will do that much for him. It’s a great help to the seekers
+arter truth, is mattermony, sir!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“That is the reason you have so much of it at Timbully, I
+suppose,” returned Dunscomb, nodding familiarly towards his
+friend the Doctor, who had heard all that was said. “If matrimony
+rectifies in this way, you must be three times right at
+home, Stephen.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir,” answered the coachman, nodding his head in
+reply; “and when a body does better and better, as often as he
+tries, there’s no great harm in trying. Mr. Jack vill come
+round, in time.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I dare say he will, Stephen, when he has sown all his wild
+oats; though the dog pretends to like the Code, and what is
+more, has the impudence to say he understands it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Yes, sir, all wrong, I dares to say. But Miss Anna will set
+him right, as a righter young lady never sat on the back seat of
+a coach. I wish, now we’re on the subject, ’Squire Dunscomb,
+to hear your ra’al opinion about them vild oats; vether they be
+a true thing, or merely a fancy consarning some vegetable that
+looks like the true feed. I’ve often heard of sich things, but
+never seed any.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Nor will you, Stephen, until the doctor turns short round,
+and renews his youth. Then, indeed, you may see some of the
+grain growing beneath your feet. It is doctor’s food.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Meshy, and good for the grinders of old hosses, I dares to
+say.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Something of the sort. It’s the harvest that age reaps from
+the broad-cast of youth. But we are keeping Mrs. McBrain
+waiting. Stephen will take one less back with him, than he
+brought, my dear lady.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_502'>502</span>“I trust not. Mr. McBrain has given me reason to hope for
+the pleasure of your company. Your nephew has carried off
+my daughter; the least you can do is to come and console
+me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What is then to become of that dear, but unfortunate young
+lady?” glancing towards Mildred.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She goes with her relatives, the Millingtons. Next week,
+we are all to meet at Rattletrap, you know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The next week the meeting took place, as appointed.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Here I am,” cried Dunscomb, “truly and finally a bachelor,
+again. Now for the reign of misrule, negligence, and bad housekeeping.
+Sarah has left me; and John has left me; and Rattletrap
+will soon become the chosen seat of discomfort and
+cynicism.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Never the last, I should think,” answered Madame de Larocheforte,
+gaily, “as long as you are its master. But why
+should you dwell alone here, in your declining years—why may
+I not come and be your housekeeper.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“The offer is tempting, coming, as it does, from one who cannot
+keep house for herself. But you think of returning to
+Europe, I believe?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Never—or not so long as my own country is so indulgent to
+us women!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Why, yes—you are right enough in that, Mildred. This is
+woman’s paradise, in a certain sense, truly; though much less
+attention is paid to their weakness and wants, by the affluent,
+than in other lands. In every Christian country but this, I believe,
+a wife may be compelled to do her duty. Here she is free
+as the air she breathes, so long as she has a care not to offend in
+one essential. No, you are right to remain at home, in your
+circumstances; that is to say, if you still insist on your mistaken
+independence; a condition in which nature never intended your
+sex to exist.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_503'>503</span>“And yourself, sir! Did not nature as much intend that you
+should marry, as another?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It did,” answered Dunscomb, solemnly; “and I would have
+discharged the obligation, had it been in my power. You well
+know why I have never been a husband—the happy parent of a
+happy family.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Mildred’s eyes swam with tears. She had heard the history
+of her grandmother’s caprice, and had justly appreciated the
+wrongs of Dunscomb. This it was not difficult for her to do, in
+the case of third parties, even while so obtuse on the subject of
+her own duties. She took the hand of her companion, by a
+stealthy and unexpected movement, and raised it still more unexpectedly
+to her lips. Dunscomb started; turned his quick
+glance on her face, where he read all her contrition and regrets.
+It was by these sudden exhibitions of right feeling, and correct
+judgment, that Madame de Larocheforte was able to maintain
+her position. The proofs of insanity were so limited in the
+range of its influence, occurred so rarely, now she was surrounded
+by those who really took an interest in her, and this not for the
+sake of her money, but for her own sake, that her feelings had
+become softened, and she no longer regarded men and women as
+beings placed near her, to prey on her means and to persecute
+her. By thus giving her affections scope, her mind was gradually
+getting to be easier, and her physical existence improved.
+McBrain was of opinion that, with care, and with due attention
+to avoid excitement and distasteful subjects, her reason might
+again be seated on its throne, and bring all the faculties of her
+mind in subjection to it.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At length the time for the visit of the young people arrived.
+Anxious to see happy faces assembled around him, Dunscomb
+had got Mildred, the McBrains, and the Millingtons, at Rattletrap,
+to do honour to the bride and groom. Good Mrs. Gott had
+not been overlooked, and by an accident, Timms drove in at the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_504'>504</span>gate, just as the whole party, including Jack and his blooming
+wife, were sitting down to a late breakfast. The counsellor welcomed
+his man of all work, for habit renders us less fastidious
+in our associations than most of us imagine.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms was very complimentary to both of the young couples,
+and in a slight degree witty, agreeably to his own mode of regarding
+the offspring of that effort of the imagination.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What do you think of Williams’s getting married, ’Squire
+Dunscomb?” the attorney asked. “There’s a man for matrimony!
+He regards women and niggers as inferior beings.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Pray how do <em>you</em> regard them, Timms? The women only,
+I suppose?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! dear, no, ’Squire; as far as possible from that! I reverence
+the ladies, without whom our state in this life would be—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Single—I suppose you wish to say. Yes, that is a very
+sensible remark of yours—without women we should certainly
+all get to be old bachelors, in time. But, Timms, it is proper
+that I should be frank with you. Mildred de Larocheforte may
+manage to get a divorce, by means of some of the quirks of the
+law; but were she to be proclaimed single, by sound of trumpet,
+she would never marry <em>you</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You are sharp on me this morning, sir; no one but the lady,
+herself, can say <em>that</em>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“There you are mistaken. I <em>know</em> it, and am ready to give
+my reasons for what I say.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I should be pleased to hear them, sir—always respect your
+reasoning powers, though I think no man can say who a lady
+will or will not marry.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In the first place, she does not like you. That is one sufficient
+reason, Timms—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Her dislike may be overcome, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Her tastes are very refined. She dislikes her present husband
+principally because he takes snuff.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_505'>505</span>“I should have thought she might have discovered her feelings
+on that subject, before she went so far.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not as they manage matters in Europe. There, the suitor
+is not permitted to kiss his intended, as so often happens among
+ourselves, I fancy; and she had no opportunity of ascertaining
+how unpleasant snuff is. You chew and smoke, and she will
+endure neither.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I’ll forswear both, rather than not be agreeable to dear
+Mary Monson.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Ah! my poor Timms, I see you are deeper in this affair than
+I had supposed. But I shall turn you over to Mrs. Gott, who
+has promised to have an explanation with you, and who, I believe,
+will speak by authority.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms was not a little surprised to see his old master very
+unceremoniously leave him, and the sheriff’s wife occupy his place.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“’Squire Timms,” the latter commenced, without a moment’s
+hesitation, “we live in a very strange world, it must be admitted.
+Gott says as much as this, and Gott is commonly right. He
+always maintained he never should be called on to hang Mary
+Monson.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mr. Gott is a very prudent man, but he would do well to
+take more care of his keys.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I have not been able to find out how that was done! Mary
+laughs when I ask her, and says it was witchcraft; I sometimes
+think it <em>must</em> have been something of the sort.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It was money, Mrs. Gott, which kept Goodwin concealed
+to the last moment, and brought about half of all that happened.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You knew that Peter Goodwin was alive, and hid up at Mrs.
+Horton’s?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I was as much surprised, when he entered the court, as any one
+there. My client managed it all for herself. She, and her gold.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, you have the credit of it, Timms, let me tell you, and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_506'>506</span>many in the county think it was very well done. I am your
+friend, and ever have been. You stood by Gott like a man, at
+his election, and I honour you for it. So I am about to give
+you a great proof of my friendship. Give up all thoughts of
+Mary Monson; she’ll never have you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What reasons have you for saying this?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In the first place, she is married already.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“She may get a divorce. Besides, her present husband is
+not a citizen. If I go to the senate, I intend to introduce a bill
+to prevent any but citizens getting married. If foreigners want
+wives, let them be naturalized!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You talk like a simpleton! Another reason why you should
+not think of Mary Monson is that you are unsuited to be her
+husband?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“In what particular, I beg leave to ask?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Oh! in several. You are both too sharp, and would quarrel
+about your wit, in the very first month,” returned Mrs. Gott,
+laughing. “Take my advice, Timms, and cast your eyes on
+some Duke’s county young woman, who has a natur’ more like
+your own.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Timms growled out a dissent to this very rational proposition,
+but the discussion was carried on for some time longer. The
+woman made an impression at last, and when the attorney left
+the house, it was with greatly lessened hopes for the future, and
+with greatly lessened zeal on the subject of the divorce.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>It was singular, perhaps, that Mrs. Gott had not detected the
+great secret of Mary Monson’s insanity. So many persons are
+going up and down the country, who are mad on particular subjects,
+and sane on most others, that it is not surprising the intelligence
+and blandishments of a woman like Mildred should
+throw dust into the eyes of one as simple-minded as Mrs. Gott.
+With the world at large, indeed, the <span lang="fr"><i>equivoque</i></span> was kept up, and
+while many thought the lady very queer, only a few suspected the
+truth. It may be fortunate for most of us that writs of lunacy
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_507'>507</span>are not taken out against us: few men, or women, being under
+the control of a good, healthful reason at all times, and on all
+subjects.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>In one particular, Mad. de Larochefort was singularly situated.
+She was surrounded, in her ordinary associations, with newly
+married persons, who were each and all strenuously resolved to
+regard the relation in the most favourable point of view! Perhaps
+there is nothing on earth that so nearly resembles the pure
+happiness of the blessed, as the felicity that succeeds the entire
+union of two hearts that are wrapped up in each other. Such
+persons live principally for themselves, regarding the world at
+large as little more than their abiding place. The affinity of
+feeling, the community of thought, the steadily increasing confidence
+which, in the end, almost incorporates the moral existence
+of two into one, are so many new and precious ties, that it is not
+wonderful the novices believe they are transplanted to a new and
+ethereal state of being. Such was, in a measure, the condition
+of those with whom Mildred was now called on to associate most
+intimately. It is true, that the state of the doctor and his wife
+might be characterized as only happy, while those of the young
+people amounted to absolute felicity. Mildred had experienced
+none of the last, and very little of the first, on the occasion of her
+own marriage, which had been entered into more as a contract
+of reason, than a union of love. She saw how much she had
+missed, and profound was the grief it occasioned her.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You seem very happy,” she remarked one day to Anna, as
+they were again threading the pretty little wood at Rattletrap—“more
+than that—delighted would be a better word.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Jack is very kind to me, and the only complaint I have to
+make of him is, that he is more fond of me than I deserve. I
+tell him I tremble lest our happiness may not last!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Enjoy it while you may. It is so rare to find married persons
+who are so completely devoted to each other, that it is
+a pleasant sight to look upon. I never knew any of this, Anna.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_508'>508</span>“I regret to hear it, dear mamma—it must be that you began
+wrong. There should be a strong attachment before the nuptial
+benediction is pronounced; then, with good hearts, and good
+principles, I should think almost any woman might be content
+with her fate.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It may be so,” returned Mildred, with a profound sigh; “I
+suppose it <em>must</em> be so. We are created by God, to fulfil these
+kind offices to each other, and to love our husbands; and there
+must be something very wrong when different results follow.
+For myself, I ought never to have married at all. My spirit is
+too independent for matrimony.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Anna was silent; for, possibly, she might have read “headstrong”
+for “independent.” The most truly independent thinkers
+are those who are willing to regard all sides of a subject, and
+are not particularly wedded to one. Mildred was acute enough
+to see that the beautiful young bride did not exactly like the
+allusion she had made to her new character.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You do not agree with me?” she demanded quickly, bending
+forward to look into her companion’s eyes.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“How can I, mamma Mildred! As I think no one, man or
+woman, should have a spirit that disqualifies her for the duties
+imposed by nature, which is merely the law of our great Creator,
+how can I agree to your notion of so much independence. We
+are not intended for all this independence, but have been placed
+here to do honour to God, and to try to render each other happy.
+I wish—but I am too bold, for one so young and inexperienced.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Speak freely, dear. I listen with pleasure—not to say with
+curiosity.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I am afraid, dear mamma, that the great guide of human
+conduct is not as much studied in France, as it should be. That
+teaches us the great lesson of humility. Without humility we
+are nothing—cannot be Christians—cannot love our neighbours
+as ourselves—cannot even love God, as it is our duty, as we
+ought to do.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_509'>509</span>“This is very strange, Anna, coming from one of your age!
+Is it common for American girls to reason and feel in this way?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Perhaps not, though I hope more so than is commonly supposed.
+You will remember what a mother it is my good fortune
+to possess. But, since you really wish me to be frank with you,
+let me finish what I have to say. I suppose you know, Mildred,
+how much more you have to contend with than most of your sex?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Mons. de Larocheforte, you mean?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Not at all,” returned Mrs. John Wilmeter, slightly smiling.
+“I put all thought of contention with a husband out of the question.
+You know I have not been married long enough for that,
+and I could almost hope that the first day of such a scene might
+be the last of my life! John would cease to love me, if I quarrelled
+with him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“You will be an extraordinary pair, my dear, if scenes, as you
+call them, do not occasionally occur between you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“I do not expect faultlessness in Jack; and, as for myself, I
+know that I have very many motes to get rid of, and which I
+trust may, in a measure, be done. But let us return to the case
+of a woman, young, well-educated, handsome, rich to superfluity,
+and intellectual.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“All of which are very good things, my child,” observed Mad.
+de Larocheforte, with a smile so covert as to be scarcely seen,
+though it betrayed to her companion the consciousness of her
+making the application intended—“what next?”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Wilful, a lover of power, and what she called independent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Good and bad together. The two first, very bad, I acknowledge;
+the last, very good.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“What do you understand by independence? If it mean a
+certain disposition to examine and decide for ourselves, under all
+the obligations of duty, then it is a good thing, a <em>very</em> good thing,
+as you say; but if it merely mean a disposition to do as one
+pleases, to say what one likes, and to behave as one may at the
+moment fancy, then it strikes me as a very bad thing. This independence,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_510'>510</span>half the time, is only pride and obstinacy, dear
+mamma!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, what if it is? Men are proud and obstinate, too; and
+they must be fought with their own weapons.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“It is easy to make smart speeches, but, by the difficulties I
+meet with in endeavouring to conquer my own heart, I know it
+is very hard to do right. I know I am a very young monitress—”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Never mind that. Your youth gives piquancy to your instructions.
+I like to hear you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>“Well, I will finish what I had to say. I have ever found
+that the best assistant, or it might be more reverent to say, the
+best mode of subduing error, was to comport ourselves with
+humility. Ah! my dear mamma, if you could understand how
+very strong the humble get to be in time, you would throw aside
+your cherished independence, and rely on other means to secure
+your happiness!”</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Perhaps Mildred was as much struck with the circumstances
+under which this rebuke or admonition was given as with the
+advice itself. It had an effect, however, and Dunscomb coming
+in aid of his niece, this singular woman was gradually drawn
+from the exaggerated notions she had ever entertained of herself
+and her rights to the contemplation of her duties, as they are
+exercised in humility.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>If there were no other evidence of the divine origin of the
+rules of conduct taught by the Redeemer than the profound
+knowledge of the human heart, that is so closely connected
+with the great lessons in humility everywhere given in his
+teachings, we conceive it would be sufficient in itself to establish
+their claim to our reverence. If men could be made to feel how
+strong they become in admitting their weaknesses; how clearly
+they perceive truth, when conscious of gazing at its form amidst
+the fogs of error; and how wise we may become by the consciousness
+of ignorance, more than half of the great battle in
+morals would be <a id='corr510.33'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='ained'>gained</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_510.33'><ins class='correction' title='ained'>gained</ins></a></span>.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'><span class='pageno' id='Page_511'>511</span>Humility was, indeed, a hard lesson for Mildred Millington
+to study. Her whole life had been in direct opposition to its
+precepts, and the great failing of her mind had a strong leaning
+to a love of power. Nevertheless, there is a still, searching process
+of correcting, so interwoven with the law of the New
+Testament, as to be irresistible when brought to aid us, in the
+manner prescribed by its own theory. No one knew this better
+than Dunscomb; and he so directed the reading, thoughts and
+feelings of his interesting charge, as to produce an early and a
+very sensible change on her character. The tendency to insanity
+is still there, and probably will ever remain; for it is not so
+much the consequence of any physical derangement as of organization;
+but it already promises to be so far controlled, as to
+leave its unhappy subject, generally rational, and, for most of
+her time, reasonably satisfied.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Dunscomb had several interviews with the vicomte—no-vicomte—whom
+he found a much more agreeable person than he
+had been prepared to meet, though certainly addicted to snuff.
+He was made acquainted with the mental hallucinations of his
+wife as well as with the fact of their being hereditary, when a
+great change came over the spirit of his dream! He had
+married to perpetuate the family de Larocheforte, but he had no
+fancy for a race of madmen. Dunscomb found him very reasonable,
+in consequence, and an arrangement was soon made, under
+the advice of this able counsellor, by means of which Mildred
+virtually became her own mistress. M. de Larocheforte accepted
+an ample provision from the estate, and willingly returned to
+Europe, a part of the world that is much more agreeable,
+usually, to men of his class than our own “happy country.”
+His absence has proved a great assistance to those who have
+assumed the care of Mildred’s mental state. As all the schemes
+for a divorce have been discontinued,—schemes that could have
+led to no strictly legal consequence,—and her husband has left
+the country the mind of Mildred has become calmer, and the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_512'>512</span>means have been found to bring her almost completely within
+the control of her reason.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We have very little to say of the other characters. Timms is
+still himself. He boasts of the fees he got in the great Mary
+Monson case. His prospects for the state senate are far from
+bad, and should he succeed, we shall expect to see him whining
+about “republican simplicity,” abusing “aristocracy,” which in
+his secret heart, means a clean shirt, clean nails, anti-tobacco
+chewing and anti-blowing-the-nose-with-the-fingers, and aiding
+anti-rentism. He is scamp enough for anything.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Williams is actually married, and, in reply to Timms’s accounts
+of the fees, he intimates that Peter Goodwin’s ghost would not
+have appeared, had <em>he</em> not “been choked off.” It ought to be
+strange that these two men like to boast of their rascality; but
+it is in obedience to a law of our nature. Their tongues merely
+echo their thoughts.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The McBrains seem very happy. If the wife be an “old <a id='corr512.17'></a><span class='htmlonly'><ins class='correction' title='man s'>man’s</ins></span><span class='epubonly'><a href='#c_512.17'><ins class='correction' title='man s'>man’s</ins></a></span>
+darling,” it is not as a young woman. Dunscomb still calls her
+“widow,” on occasions, but nothing can interrupt the harmony
+of the friends. It is founded on mutual esteem and respect.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Michael and Sarah promise well. In that family, there is
+already a boy, to its great-uncle’s delight. The parents exult in
+this gift, and both are grateful.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>We care little for Jack Wilmeter, though a very good fellow,
+in the main. Anna loves him, however, and that gives
+him an interest in our eyes, he might not otherwise enjoy. His
+charming wife is losing her superfluous enthusiasm in the realities
+of life, but she seems to gain in womanly tenderness and
+warmth of healthful feeling, precisely in the degree in which she
+loses the useless tenant of her imagination.</p>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c005'>
+ <div>THE END.</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c000'>
+</div>
+<p class='c001'><a id='endnote'></a></p>
+<div class='tnotes'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+ <div class='nf-center'>
+ <div><span class='large'>Transcriber’s Note</span></div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c001'>There is a paragraph on p. <a href='#Page_373'>373</a> which paraphrases testimony. The first
+segment has no opening double quote, but seems to end with one. An opening
+quote has been added at <a id='c_373.15'></a><a href='#corr373.15'>373.15</a>. An emphasized quote is embedded
+in that passage, but also uses double quotes.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>Beginning on p. <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>, there is an extended passage which summarized the
+closing argument and ends at <a id='c_444.13'></a><a href='#corr444.13'>444.13</a> with a closing double quote.
+That has been removed here, since there is no clear point where it would
+have been opened.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>The text includes three instances of ‘villany’ at <a id='c_127.14'></a><a href='#corr127.14'>127.14</a>, <a id='c_393.11'></a><a href='#corr393.11'>393.11</a> and
+‘villanous’ at <a id='c_322.27'></a><a href='#corr322.27'>322.27</a>. Thsese have been retained but are noted. No instances of
+‘villainy’ are found. The words ‘vister’ and ‘visitor’ each appear four times. Both are
+retained.</p>
+
+<p class='c001'>At <a id='c_172.16'></a><a href='#corr172.16'>172.16</a>, a line ends ‘use,’. The following line begins ‘less’. It seems
+obvious that the comma was intended as a hyphen, hence: ‘useless’.</p>
+
+<p class='c014'>There were numerous instances of missing periods, frequently (but not alwasy)
+at the end of a line. These have been summarized here:
+Mr. (<a id='c_i.1'></a><a href='#corri.1'>i.1</a>);
+confidently. (<a id='c_15.20'></a><a href='#corr15.20'>15.20</a>);
+propose it. (<a id='c_22.29'></a><a href='#corr22.29'>22.29</a>);
+attention. <a id='c_34.27'></a><a href='#corr34.27'>34.27</a>);
+wear it. (<a id='c_36.29'></a><a href='#corr36.29'>36.29</a>);
+opinions. (<a id='c_40.7'></a><a href='#corr40.7'>40.7</a>);
+room. (<a id='c_45.30'></a><a href='#corr45.30'>45.30</a>);
+not. (<a id='c_52.32'></a><a href='#corr52.32'>52.32</a>);
+investigation. (<a id='c_55.29'></a><a href='#corr55.29'>55.29</a>);
+heat. (<a id='c_55.33'></a><a href='#corr55.33'>55.33</a>);
+Mr. Dunscomb (<a id='c_69.7'></a><a href='#corr69.7'>69.7</a>);
+Mr. Dunscomb’s (<a id='c_100.1'></a><a href='#corr100.1'>100.1</a>);
+sir. (<a id='c_117.29'></a><a href='#corr117.29'>117.29</a>);
+grate. <a id='c_126.1'></a><a href='#corr126.1'>126.1</a>);
+side. (<a id='c_132.30'></a><a href='#corr132.30'>132.30</a>);
+occasion. (<a id='c_176.4'></a><a href='#corr176.4'>176.4</a>);
+sir. <a id='c_185.3'></a><a href='#corr185.3'>185.3</a>);
+itself. (<a id='c_190.4'></a><a href='#corr190.4'>190.4</a>);
+said. (<a id='c_204.1'></a><a href='#corr204.1'>204.1</a>);
+comfort. (<a id='c_204.25'></a><a href='#corr204.25'>204.25</a>);
+enough. (<a id='c_207.3'></a><a href='#corr207.3'>207.3</a>);
+place. (<a id='c_214.27'></a><a href='#corr214.27'>214.27</a>);
+beginner. (<a id='c_218.1'></a><a href='#corr218.1'>218.1</a>);
+liberty. <a id='c_224.23'></a><a href='#corr224.23'>224.23</a>);
+him. (<a id='c_226.1'></a><a href='#corr226.1'>226.1</a>);
+hour. (<a id='c_245.8'></a><a href='#corr245.8'>245.8</a>);
+Mrs. Gott. (<a id='c_249.5'></a><a href='#corr249.5'>249.5</a>);
+State. (<a id='c_251.8'></a><a href='#corr251.8'>251.8</a>);
+Mrs. Horton (<a id='c_234.33'></a><a href='#corr234.33'>234.33</a>);
+oment. (<a id='c_254.1'></a><a href='#corr254.1'>254.1</a>);
+occasion. (<a id='c_254.33'></a><a href='#corr254.33'>254.33</a>);
+Europe. (<a id='c_255.32'></a><a href='#corr255.32'>255.32</a>);
+temperament. (<a id='c_258.33'></a><a href='#corr258.33'>258.33</a>);
+dwelling. <a id='c_261.32'></a><a href='#corr261.32'>261.32</a>);
+threshold. (<a id='c_267.4'></a><a href='#corr267.4'>267.4</a>);
+interview. <a id='c_274.33'></a><a href='#corr274.33'>274.33</a>);
+reigned. <a id='c_298.7'></a><a href='#corr298.7'>298.7</a>);
+Mrs[.[ Horton (<a id='c_304.5'></a><a href='#corr304.5'>304.5</a>);
+light. (<a id='c_307.29'></a><a href='#corr307.29'>307.29</a>);
+terrible. (<a id='c_338.29'></a><a href='#corr338.29'>338.29</a>);
+gained. (<a id='c_342.24'></a><a href='#corr342.24'>342.24</a>);
+nothing. (<a id='c_344.33'></a><a href='#corr344.33'>344.33</a>);
+aristocracy. (<a id='c_354.17'></a><a href='#corr354.17'>354.17</a>);
+aristocracy. (<a id='c_354.19'></a><a href='#corr354.19'>354.19</a>);
+conversation. (<a id='c_357.27'></a><a href='#corr357.27'>357.27</a>);
+dream. (<a id='c_363.20'></a><a href='#corr363.20'>363.20</a>);
+ignorance. <a id='c_379.33'></a><a href='#corr379.33'>379.33</a>);
+doing. (<a id='c_382.1'></a><a href='#corr382.1'>382.1</a>);
+might. (<a id='c_383.23'></a><a href='#corr383.23'>383.23</a>);
+Mrs. Horton’s (<a id='c_390.6'></a><a href='#corr390.6'>390.6</a>);
+cause. (<a id='c_404.5'></a><a href='#corr404.5'>404.5</a>);
+<em>conjecture.</em> (<a id='c_447.20'></a><a href='#corr447.20'>447.20</a>);
+attempted. (<a id='c_447.28'></a><a href='#corr447.28'>447.28</a>);
+ignorance. (<a id='c_457.3'></a><a href='#corr457.3'>457.3</a>);
+force. (<a id='c_461.6'></a><a href='#corr461.6'>461.6</a>);
+<em>Peter Goodwin</em>. (<a id='c_462.27'></a><a href='#corr462.27'>462.27</a>);
+astounded. (<a id='c_463.6'></a><a href='#corr463.6'>463.6</a>);
+sins. (<a id='c_465.4'></a><a href='#corr465.4'>465.4</a>);
+asked. (<a id='c_468.4'></a><a href='#corr468.4'>468.4</a>);
+own. (<a id='c_477.29'></a><a href='#corr477.29'>477.29</a>);
+murdered. (<a id='c_467.1'></a><a href='#corr467.1'>467.1</a>);
+executions. (<a id='c_477.30'></a><a href='#corr477.30'>477.30</a>);
+Biberry. (<a id='c_480.13'></a><a href='#corr480.13'>480.13</a>);
+teachings. (<a id='c_486.29'></a><a href='#corr486.29'>486.29</a>);
+Mildred. (<a id='c_491.6'></a><a href='#corr491.6'>491.6</a>);</p>
+
+<p class='c014'>Most other errors involved missing or incorrect quotation marks or
+characters. Frequently, the text has space for the missing characters.
+These have been deemed as most likely to be printing errors, and have
+been corrected and are noted below. Spelling anomalies have been
+corrected if there is evidence of standard spelling elsewhere. The
+references are to the page and line in the original.</p>
+
+<table class='table0'>
+<colgroup>
+<col class='colwidth12'>
+<col class='colwidth69'>
+<col class='colwidth18'>
+</colgroup>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_27.10'></a><a href='#corr27.10'>27.10</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>but to your own.[’/”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_45.27'></a><a href='#corr45.27'>45.27</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>by the time you are ready.[”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_51.32'></a><a href='#corr51.32'>51.32</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>tried under an [‘]alias!’</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_55.27'></a><a href='#corr55.27'>55.27</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>respectin[g] his profession,</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_57.16'></a><a href='#corr57.16'>57.16</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>this display of [l]earning.</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Restored.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_71.3'></a><a href='#corr71.3'>71.3</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>It was almost superfl[u]ous to ask</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Inserted.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_72.24'></a><a href='#corr72.24'>72.24</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>showing a half-eagle.[”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Removed.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_83.14'></a><a href='#corr83.14'>83.14</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>All the access[a/o]ries of this plan</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_92.31'></a><a href='#corr92.31'>92.31</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>and [b/h]ad never lost a cent</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_103.29'></a><a href='#corr103.29'>103.29</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>[“]If one of these skeletons</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_106.5'></a><a href='#corr106.5'>106.5</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>[‘/“]Millington, you have a way of talking</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_187.22'></a><a href='#corr187.22'>187.22</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>as would stand examination.[”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_219.26'></a><a href='#corr219.26'>219.26</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>who are friendly to me——[”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_227.22'></a><a href='#corr227.22'>227.22</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>[“]Which is better</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Restored.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_232.33'></a><a href='#corr232.33'>232.33</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>as any about here.[’/”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Restored.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_240.28'></a><a href='#corr240.28'>240.28</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>he drew[ a] chair</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Restored.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_248.14'></a><a href='#corr248.14'>248.14</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>on that harp of her[’]s</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Removed.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_270.17'></a><a href='#corr270.17'>270.17</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>a case like her[’]s</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Removed.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_271.2'></a><a href='#corr271.2'>271.2</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>sweep out a crowded calend[e/a]r</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_273.15'></a><a href='#corr273.15'>273.15</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>as access[a/o]ries before the act.</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_282.1'></a><a href='#corr282.1'>282.1</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>As for the jurors[,]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Restored.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_303.3'></a><a href='#corr303.3'>303.3</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>[“]yes, in the spirit</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_310.22'></a><a href='#corr310.22'>310.22</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>and flesh of their flesh.[’]”</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_320.21'></a><a href='#corr320.21'>320.21</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>safe sort of person.[”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_323.28'></a><a href='#corr323.28'>323.28</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>’Squire Timms.[’/”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_335.13'></a><a href='#corr335.13'>335.13</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>when I met David Johnson—[”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_336.5'></a><a href='#corr336.5'>336.5</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>is getting scarce——[’]”</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_351.17'></a><a href='#corr351.17'>351.17</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>as you must know[,/.]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_375.31'></a><a href='#corr375.31'>375.31</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>[‘/“]What I know</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_383.33'></a><a href='#corr383.33'>383.33</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>he saw a strange f[ro/or]m</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Transposed.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_384.29'></a><a href='#corr384.29'>384.29</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>[“]Whom do you mean by she?”</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_443.30'></a><a href='#corr443.30'>443.30</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>of the sleeping couple below[,]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_455.4'></a><a href='#corr455.4'>455.4</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>dreaded power above.[”]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_486.28'></a><a href='#corr486.28'>486.28</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>“yes, tha[t]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Restored.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_490.17'></a><a href='#corr490.17'>490.17</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>‘cup-and-saucer law,[”/’]</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Replaced.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_491.28'></a><a href='#corr491.28'>491.28</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>and he[r] character has been formed</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Restored.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_510.33'></a><a href='#corr510.33'>510.33</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>would be [g]ained</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Restored.</td>
+ </tr>
+ <tr>
+ <td class='c016'><a id='c_512.17'></a><a href='#corr512.17'>512.17</a></td>
+ <td class='c016'>“old man[ /’]s darling”</td>
+ <td class='c017'>Added.</td>
+ </tr>
+</table>
+
+</div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75036 ***</div>
+ </body>
+ <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57e on 2025-01-04 14:45:22 GMT -->
+</html>
+
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