 58. The two dukes. It was necessary that the country should be governed, even though Mr. Bontein had been murdered, and in order that it should be duly governed it was necessary that Mr. Bontein's late place at the Board of Trade should be filled. There was some hesitation as to the filling it, and when the arrangement was completed people were very much surprised indeed. Mr. Bontein had been appointed chiefly because it was thought that he might in that office act as a quasi-house of commons deputy to the Duke of Omnion in carrying out his great scheme of a five-farthinged penny and a ten-penning chilling. The duke in spite of his wealth and rank and honor was determined to go on with his great task. Life would be nothing to him now unless he could at least hope to arrange the five farthings. When his wife had bullied him about the garter he had declared to her, and with perfect truth, that he had never asked for anything. He had gone on to say that he never would ask for anything, and he certainly did not think that he was betraying himself with reference to that assurance when he suggested to Mr. Gresham that he would himself take the place left vacant by Mr. Bontein, of course retaining his seat in the cabinet. I should hardly have ventured to suggest such an arrangement to your grace, said the prime minister. Feeling that it might be so, I thought that I would venture to ask, said the duke. I am sure you know that I am the last man to interfere as to place or the disposition of power. Quite the last man, said Mr. Gresham. But it has always been held that the Board of Trade is not incompatible with the peerage. Oh, dear, yes. And I can feel myself nearer to this affair of mine there than I can elsewhere. Mr. Gresham, of course, had no objection to urge. This great nobleman, who was now asking for Mr. Bontein's shoes, had been Chancellor of the Exchequer, and would have remained Chancellor of the Exchequer, had not the mantle of his nobility fallen upon him. At the present moment he held an office in which peers are often temporarily shelved, or put away perhaps out of harm's way for the time, so that they may be brought down and used when wanted, without having received crack or detriment from that independent action into which a politician is likely to fall when his party is in, but he is still out. He was Lord Privy Seal, a lordship of state which does carry with it a status and a seat in the cabinet, but does not necessarily entail any work. But the present Lord, who cared nothing for status, and who was much more intent on his work than he was even on his seat in the cabinet, was possessed by what many of his brother-politicians regarded as a morbid dislike to pretenses. He had not been happy during his few weeks of the Privy Seal, and that almost envied Mr. Bontein the realities of the Board of Trade. "'I think upon the whole it will be best to make the change,' he said to Mr. Gresham, and Mr. Gresham was delighted. But there were one or two men of Mark, one or two who were older than Mr. Gresham probably, and less perfect in their liberal sympathies, who thought that the Duke of Omnion was derogating from his proper position in the step which he was now taking. Chief among these was his friend, the Duke of St. Bungay, who alone perhaps could venture to argue the matter with him. "'I almost wish that you had spoken to me first,' said the elder Duke. "'I feared that I should find you so strongly opposed to my resolution. If it was a resolution.' "'I think it was,' said the younger. "'It was a great misfortune to me that I should have been obliged to leave the House of Commons. You should not feel it so.' "'My whole life was there,' said he, who his plantagent palacer had been so good a commoner. "'But your whole life should certainly not be there now, nor your whole heart. On you the circumstances of your birth have imposed duties quite as high, and I will say quite as useful, as any which a career in the House of Commons can put within the reach of a man.' "'Do you think so, Duke?' "'Certainly I do. I do think that the England which we know could not be the England that she is, but for the maintenance of a high-minded, proud, and self-denying nobility. And though with us there is no line dividing our very broad aristocracy into two parts, a higher and a lower, or a greater and a smaller, or a richer and a poorer, nevertheless we all feel that the success of our order depends chiefly on the conduct of those whose rank is the highest and whose means are the greatest. To some few, among whom you are conspicuously one, wealth has been given so great and ranked so high that much of the welfare of your country depends on the manner in which you bear yourself as the Duke of Omnion.' "'I would not wish to think so.' "'Your uncle so thought, and though he was a man very different from you, not in your to work in his early life, with fewer attainments, probably a slower intellect, and whose general conduct was inferior to your own—I speak freely because the subject is important—he was a man who understood his position and the requirements of his order very thoroughly, a retinue almost royal, together with an expenditure which royalty could not rival, secured for him the respect of the nation. "'Your life has not been as was his, and you have won a higher respect.' "'I think not. The greater part of my life was spent in the House of Commons, and my fortune was never much more than the tenth of his, but I wish to make no such comparison. "'I must make it, if I am to judge which I would follow.' "'Pray understand me, my friend,' said the old man energetically. "'I am not advising you to abandon public life in order that you may live and repose as a great nobleman. It would not be in your nature to do so, nor could the country afford to lose your services. But you need not, therefore, take your place in the arena of politics, as though you were still Plantagenet Palliser, with no other duties than those of a politician, as you might so well have done had your uncle's titles and wealth descended to a son. "'I wish they had,' said the regretful Duke. "'It cannot be so. Your brother perhaps wishes that he were a Duke, but it has been arranged otherwise. It is vain to repine. Your wife is unhappy because your uncle's garter was not at once given to you.' "'Glincora is like other women, of course.' I share her feelings. Had Mr. Gresham consulted me, I should not have scrupled to tell him that it would have been for the welfare of his party that the Duke of Omnion should be graced with any and every honour in his power to bestow. Lord Cantrip is my friend, almost as warmly as are you, but the country would not have missed the ribbon from the breast of Lord Cantrip. Had you been more the Duke, unless the slave of your country, it would have been sent to you. Do I make you angry by speaking so? Not in the least, I have but one ambition. And that is, to be the serviceable slave of my country. "'A master is more serviceable than a slave,' said the old man. "'No, no, I deny it. I can admit much from you, but I cannot admit that. The politician who becomes the master of his country sinks from the statesman to the tyrant. We misunderstand each other, my friend. Pitt and Peele and Palmerston were not tyrants, though each assumed and held for himself to the last, the mastery of which I speak. Smaller men who have been slaves have been as patriotic as they, but less useful. I regret that you should follow Mr. Bontein in his office. As he was Mr. Bontein. All the circumstances of the transfer of office occasioned by your uncle's death seem to me to make it undesirable. I would not have you make yourself too common. This very murder adds to the feeling. Because Mr. Bontein has been lost to us, the minister has recourse to you. It was my own suggestion. But who knows that it was so? You and I and Mr. Gresham, and perhaps one or two others. It is too late now, Duke, and to tell the truth of myself, not even you can make me other than I am. My uncle's life to me was always a problem which I could not understand, where I, to attempt to walk in his ways, I should fail utterly and become absurd. I do not feel the disgrace of following Mr. Bontein. I trust you may at least be less unfortunate. Well, yes. I do not expect to be murdered in the streets because I am going to the Board of Trade. I shall have made no enemy by my political success. You think that Mr. Finn did do that deed? Asked the elder Duke. I hardly know what I think. My wife is sure that he is innocent. The Duchess is enthusiastic always. Many others think the same. Lord and Lady Chiltern are sure of that. They were always his best friends. I am told that many of the lawyers are sure that it will be impossible to convict him. If he be acquitted, I shall strive to think him innocent. He will come back to the house, of course. I should think he would apply for the hundreds, said the Duke of St. Bungay. I do not see why he should. I would not in his place. If he be innocent, why should he admit himself unfit for a seat in Parliament? I tell you what he might do. Resign and then throw himself again upon his constituency. The other Duke shook his head, thereby declaring his opinion that Phineas Finn was in truth the man who had murdered Mr. Bonteen. When it was publicly known that the Duke of Omnion had stepped into Mr. Bonteen's shoes, the general opinion certainly coincided with that given by the Duke of St. Bungay. It was not only that the late Chancellor of the ex-checker should not have consented to fill so low an office, or that the Duke of Omnion should have better known his own place, or that he should not have succeeded a man so insignificant as Mr. Bonteen. These things no doubt were said, but more was said also. It was thought that he should not have gone to an office which had been rendered vacant by the murder of a man who had been placed there merely to assist himself. If the present arrangement was good, why should it not have been made independently of Mr. Bonteen? Questions were asked about it in both houses, and the transfer, no doubt, did have the effect of lowering the man in the estimation of the political world. He himself felt that he did not stand so high with his colleagues as when he was Chancellor of the ex-checker, not even so high as when he held the privy seal. The printed lists of those who attended the cabinets, his name generally was placed last, and an opponent on one occasion thought, or pretended to think, that he was no more than Postmaster General. He determined to bear all this without wincing, but he did wince. He would not own to himself that he had been wrong, but he was sore, as a man is sore who doubts about his own conduct, and he was not the less so because he strove to bear his wife's sarcasm without showing that they pained him. They say that poor Lord Fawn is losing his mind, she said to him. Lord Fawn, I haven't heard anything about it. He was engaged to Lady Eustis once, you remember. They say that he'll be made to declare why he didn't marry her if this bigamy case goes on, and then it's so unfortunate that he should have seen the man in the gray coat. I hope he won't have to resign. I hope not indeed. Because of course you'd have to take his place as Undersecretary. This was very awkward, but the husband only smiled and expressed to hope that if he did so he might himself be equal to his new duties. By the by Plantagenet what do you mean to do about the jewels? I haven't thought about them. Madame Giesler had better take them. But she won't. I suppose they had better be sold. By auction. That would be the proper way. I shouldn't like that at all. Couldn't we buy them ourselves and let the money stand till she choose to take it? It's an affair of trade, I suppose, and you're at the head of all that now. Then again she asked him some question about the Home Secretary, with reference to Phineus Finn, and when he told her that it would be highly improper for him to speak to that officer on such a subject, she pretended to suppose that the impropriety would consist in the interference of a man holding so low a position as he was. Of course it is not the same now, she said, as it used to be when you were at the ex-checker. All which he took without uttering a word of anger or showing a sign of annoyance. You only get two thousand a year, do you, at the Board of Trade, plantagen it? Upon my word I forget. I think it's two thousand five hundred. How nice! It was five at the ex-checker, wasn't it? Yes, five thousand at the ex-checker. When you're a lord of the treasury it will only be one, will it? What a goose you are, Glencora! If it suited me to be a lord of the treasury, what difference would the salary make? Not the least, nor yet the rank or the influence or the prestige or the general fitness of things. You are above all such sublunary ideas. You would clean Mr. Gresham's shoes for him if the service of your country required it. These last words she added in a tone of voice very similar to that which her husband himself used on occasions. I would even allow you to clean them if the service of the country required it, said the Duke. But though he was magnanimous he was not happy and perhaps the intense anxiety which his wife displayed as to the fate of Phineas Finn added to his discomfort. The Duchess, as the Duke of St. Mungay had said, was enthusiastic and he never for a moment dreamed of teaching her to change her nature. But it would have been as well if her enthusiasm at the present moment could have been brought to display itself on some other subject. He had been brought to feel that Phineas Finn had been treated badly when the good things of government were being given away and that this had been caused by the jealous prejudices of the man who had been since murdered. But an expectant undersecretary of state let him have been ever so cruelly left out in the cold should not murder the man by whom he has been ill-treated. Looking at all the evidence as best he could and listening to the opinions of others, the Duke did think that Phineas had been guilty. The murder had clearly been committed by a personal enemy, not by a robber. Two men were known to have entertained feelings of an enmity against Mr. Bonteen, as to one of whom he was assured that it was impossible that he should have been on the spot. As to the other, it seemed equally manifest that he must have been there. If it were so, it would have been much better that his wife should not display her interest publicly in the murderer's favor. But the Duchess, wherever she went, spoke of the trial as a persecution, and seemed to think that the prisoner should already be treated as a hero and a martyr. Glencora, he said to her, I wish that you could drop the subject of this trial till it be over. But I can't. Surely you can avoid speaking of it. No more than you can avoid your decimals. Out of the full heart the mouth speaks, and my heart is very full. What harm do I do? You set people talking of you. They have been doing that ever since we were married, but I do not know that they have made out much against me. We must go after our nature, Plantagenet. Your nature is decimals. I run after units. He did not deem it wise to say anything further, knowing that to this evil also of Phineus Finn the gods would at last vouch safe an ending. CHAPTER 59 Mrs. Bontein At the time of the murder, Lady Eustis, whom we must regard as the wife of Mr. Amelius till it be proved that he had another wife when he married her, was living as the guest of Mr. Bontein. Mr. Bontein had pledged himself to prove the bigamy, and Mrs. Bontein had opened her house and her heart to the injured lady. Lizzie Eustis, as she had always been called, was clever, rich, and pretty, and knew well how to ingratiate herself with the friend of the hour. She was a greedy, grasping little woman. But when she had before her a sufficient object, she could appear to pour all that she had into her friend's lap with all the prodigality of a child. Perhaps Mrs. Bontein had liked to have things poured into her lap. Perhaps Mr. Bontein had enjoyed the confidential tears of a pretty woman. It may be that the wrongs of a woman doomed to live with Mr. Amelius as his wife had touched their hearts. Be that as it might, they had become the acknowledged friends and supporters of Lady Eustis, and she was living with them in their little house in St. James's Place on that fatal night. Lizzie behaved herself very well when the terrible tidings were brought home. Mr. Bontein was so often late at the house or at his club that his wife rarely sat up for him, and when the servants were disturbed between six and seven o'clock in the morning, no surprise had as yet been felt at his absence. The sergeant of police who had brought the news sent for the maid of the unfortunate lady, and the maid in her panic, told her story to Lady Eustis before daring to communicate it to her mistress. Lizzie Eustis, who in former days had known something of policemen, saw the man and learned from him all that there was to learn. Then while the sergeant remained on the landing-place outside, to support her if necessary, with the maid by her side to help her, kneeling by the bed, she told the wretched woman what had happened. We need not witness the paroxysms of the widow's misery, but we may understand that Lizzie Eustis was from that moment more strongly fixed than ever in her friendship with Mrs. Bonteen. When the first three or four days of agony and despair had passed by, and the mind of the bereaved woman was able to churn itself from the loss to the cause of the loss, Mrs. Bonteen became fixed in her certainty that Phineas Finn had murdered her husband, and seemed to think that it was the first in paramount duty of the present government to have the murderer hung, almost without a trial. When she found that, at the best, the execution of the man she so vehemently hated could not take place for two months after the doing of the deed, even if then, she became almost frantic in her anger. Surely they would not let him escape. What more proof could be needed? Had not the miscreant quarreled with her husband and behaved abominably to him but a few minutes before the murder? Had he not been on the spot with the murderous instrument in his pocket? Had he not been seen by Lord Fawn hastening on the steps of her dear and doomed husband? Mrs. Bonteen, as she sat enveloped in her new weeds, thirsting for blood, could not understand that further evidence should be needed, or that a rational doubt should remain in the mind of anyone who knew the circumstances. It was to her as though she had seen the dastard blow struck, and with such conviction as this on her mind did she insist on talking of the coming trial to her inmate, Lady Eustace. But Lizzie had her own opinion, though she was forced to leave it unexpressed in the presence of Mrs. Bonteen. She knew the man who claimed her as his wife, and did not think that Finneas Finn was guilty of the murder. Her amelias, her Yosef Amelias as she had delighted to call him since she had separated herself from him, was, as she thought, the very man to commit a murder. He was by no means degraded in her opinion by the feeling. To commit great crimes is the line of life that comes naturally to some men, and was, as she thought, a line less objectionable than that which confines itself to small crimes. She almost felt that the audacity of her husband in doing such a deed redeemed her from some of the ignominy in which she had subjected herself by her marriage with a runaway who had another wife living. There was a dash of adventure about it which was almost gratifying. But these feelings she was obliged, at any rate for the present, to keep to herself. Not only must she acknowledge the undoubted guilt of Finneas Finn for the sake of her friend Mrs. Bonteen, but she must consider carefully whether she would gain or lose more by having a murderer for her husband. She did not relish the idea of being made a widow by the gallows. She was still urgent as to the charge of Bigamy, and should she succeed in proving that the man had never been her husband, then she did not care how soon they might hang him. But for the present it was better for all reasons that she should cling to the Finneas Finn theory, feeling certain that it was the bold hand of her own Amelius who had struck the blow. She was by no means free from the solicitations of her husband, who knew well where she was, and who still adhered to his purpose of reclaiming his wife and his wife's property. He was released by the magistrate's order, and had recovered his goods from Mr. Meager's house, and was once more established in lodgings, humbler indeed than those in Northumberland Street. He wrote the following letter to her, who had been for one blessed year the partner of his joys and his bosom's mistress. 5. Jellybag Street, Edgeware Road, May 26, 1800, Blank Dearest wife, you will have heard to what additional sorrows and disgrace I have been subjected to the malice of my enemies, but all in vain, though princes and potentates have been arrayed against me. The princes and potentates had no doubt been Lord Chiltern and Mr. Low. Innocence has prevailed, and I have come out from the ordeal white as bleached linen or unsullied snow. The murderer is in the hands of justice, and though he be the friend of kings and princes, Mr. Amelius had probably heard that the prince had been at the club with Phineas, yet shall justice be done upon him, and the truth of the Lord shall be made to prevail. Mr. Bontein has been very hostile to me, believing evil things of me, and instigating you, my beloved, to believe evil of me. Nevertheless I grieve for his death. I lament bitterly that he should have been cut off in his sins, and hurried before the judgment seat of the great judge, without an hour given to him for repentance. Let us pray that the mercy of the Lord may be extended even to him. I beg that you will express my deepest commiseration to his widow, and assure her that she has my prayers. And now, my dearest wife, let me approach my own affairs. As I have come out unscorched from the last fiery furnace, which has been heated for me by my enemies seven times hot, so shall I escape from that other fire with which the poor man who has gone from us endeavored to envelop me. If they have made you believe that I have any wife but yourself, they have made you believe a falsehood. You and you only have my hand. You and you only have my heart. I know well what attempts are being made to suborn false evidence in my old country, and how the follies of my youth are being pressed against me. How anxious are proud Englishmen that the poor Bohemian should be robbed of the beauty and wit and wealth which he had won for himself. But the Lord fights on my side, and I shall certainly prevail. If you will come back to me, all shall be forgiven. My heart is as it ever was. Come and let us leave this cold and ungenial country, and go to the sunny south, to the islands of the blessed. Mr. Amelius, during his married life, had not quite fathomed the depths of his wife's character, though no doubt he had caught some points of it with sufficient accuracy. Where we may forget these blood-stained sorrows and mutually forgive each other. What happiness! What joys can you expect in your present mode of life? Even your income, which in truth is my income, you cannot obtain, because the tenants will not dare to pay it in opposition to my legal claims. But of what use is gold? What can purple do for us, and find linen and rich jewels, without love in a contented heart? Come, dearest, once more to your own one, who will never remember ought of the sad rupture which enemies have made, and we will hurry to the setting sun, and recline on mossy banks, and give up our souls to Elysium. As Lizzie read this, she uttered an exclamation of disgust. Did the man, after all, know so little of her as to suppose that she, with all her experiences, did not know how to keep her own life and her own pockets separate from her romance? She despised him for this, almost as much as she respected him for the murder. If you will only say that you will see me, I will be at your feet in a moment, till the solemnity with which the late tragical event must have filled you shall have left you leisure to think of all this, I will not force myself into your presence, or seek to secure by law rights which will be much dearer to me if they are accorded by your own sweet good will. And in the meantime I will agree that the income shall be drawn, provided that it be equally divided between us. I have been sorely straightened in my circumstances by these last events. My congregation is, of course, dispersed. Though my innocence has been triumphantly displayed, my name has been tarnished. It is with difficulty that I find a spot where to lay my weary head. I am a-hungered and a-thirst, and my very garments are parting from me in my need. Can it be that you willingly doom me to such misery because of my love for you? Had I been less true to you, it might have been otherwise. Let me have an answer at once, and I will instantly take steps about the money if you will agree. You're truly most loving husband, Joseph Amelius, to Lady Eustis, wife of the Reverend Joseph Amelius. When Lizzie had read the letter twice through, she resolved that she would show it to her friend. I know it will reopen the flood-gates of your grief, she said. But unless you see it, how can I ask from you the advice which is so necessary to me? But Mrs. Bonteen was a woman sincere at any rate in this, that the loss of her husband had been to her so crushing a calamity that there could be no reopening of the flood-gates. The grief that cannot bear illusion to its causes has generally something of affectation in its composition. The flood-gates with this widowed one had never yet been for a moment closed. It was not that her tears were ever flowing, but that her heart had never yet for a moment ceased to feel that its misery was incapable of alleviation. No utterances concerning her husband could make her more wretched than she was. She took the letter and read it through. I dare say he is a bad man, said Mrs. Bonteen. Indeed he is, said the bad man's wife. But he was not guilty of this crime. Oh no, I am sure of that, said Lady Eustace, feeling certain at the same time that Mr. Bonteen had fallen by her husband's hands. And therefore I am glad they have given him up. There can be no doubt now about it. Everybody knows who did it now, said Lady Eustace. Infamous Ruffian. My poor dear lost one always knew what he was. Oh, that such a creature should have been allowed to come among us. Of course he'll be hung, Mrs. Bonteen. Hung? I should think so. What other inn would be fit for him? Oh yes, they must hang him. But it makes one think that the world is too hard a place to live in when such a one as he can cause so great a ruin. It has been very terrible. Think what the country has lost. They tell me that the Duke of Omnium is to take my husband's place. But the Duke cannot do what he did. Everyone knows that for real work there was no one like him. Nothing was more certain than that he would have been Prime Minister. Oh, very soon. They ought to pinch him to death with red-hot tweezers. But Lady Eustace was anxious at the present moment to talk about her own troubles. Of course Mr. Amelius did not commit the murder. Phineus Finn committed it, said the half-maddened woman rising from her chair, and Phineus Finn shall hang by his neck till he is dead. But Amelius has certainly got another wife in Prague. I suppose you know. He said it was so, and he was always right. I am sure of it, just as you are sure of this horrid Mr. Finn. The two things can't be named together, Lady Eustace. Certainly not. I wouldn't think of being so unfeeling. But he has written me this letter, and what must I do? It is very dreadful about the money, you know. He cannot touch your money. My dear one always said that he could not touch it. But he prevents me from touching it. What they give me only comes by a sort of favour from the lawyer. I almost wish that I had compromised. You would not be rid of him that way. No, not quite rid of him. You see, I never had to take that horrid name because of the title. I suppose I'd better send the letter to the lawyer. Send it to the lawyer, of course. That is what he would have done. They tell me that the trial is to be on the twenty-fourth of June. Why should they postpone it so long? They know all about it. They always postpone everything. If he had lived, there would be an end of that before long. Lady Eustace was tired of the virtues of her friend's martyred lord, and was very anxious to talk of her own affairs. She was still holding her husband's letter open in her hand, and was thinking how she could force her friend's dead lion to give place for a while to her own live dog, when a servant announced that Mr. Camperdown the attorney was below. In former days there had been an old Mr. Camperdown, who was vehemently hostile to poor Lizzie Eustace. But now, in her new troubles, the firm that had ever been true to her first husband had taken up her case for the sake of the family and her property, and for the sake of the heir, Lizzie Eustace's little boy. And Mr. Camperdown's firm had, next to Mr. Bontein, been the depository of her trust. He had sent clerks out to Prague, one who had returned ill, and some had said poison, though the poison had probably been nothing more than the diet natural to Bohemians, and then another had been sent. This of course had all been previous to Madame Giesler's self-imposed mission, which, though it was occasioned altogether by the suspected wickedness of Mr. Amelius, had no special reference to his matrimonial escapades. And now Mr. Camperdown was downstairs. Shall I go down to him, dear Mrs. Bontein? He may come here, if you please. Perhaps I had better go down. He will disturb you. My darling lost one always thought that there should be too present to hear such matters. He said it was safer. Mr. Camperdown, Jr. was therefore shown upstairs to Mrs. Bontein's drawing-room. We have found it all out, Lady Eustis, said Mr. Camperdown. Found out what? We've got Madame Amelius over here. No, said Mrs. Bontein, with her hands raised. Lady Eustis sat silent with her mouth open. Yes, indeed, and photographs of the registry of the marriage from the books of the synagogue at Cracow. His signature was Joseph Amelius, and his handwriting isn't a bit altered. I think we could have proved it without the lady, but of course it was better to bring her, if possible. Where is she? asked Lizzie, thinking that she would like to see her own predecessor. We have her safe, Lady Eustis. She's not in custody, but as she can't speak a word of English or French, she finds it more comfortable to be kept in private. We're afraid it will cost a little money. Will she swear that she is his wife? asked Mrs. Bontein. Oh, yes, there'll be no difficulty about that, but her swearing alone mightn't be enough. Surely that settles it all, said Lady Eustis. For the money that we shall have to pay, said Mr. Camperdown, we might probably have got a dozen Bohemian ladies to come and swear that they were married to Joseph Amelius at Cracow. The difficulty has been to bring over documentary evidence, which will satisfy a jury, that this is the woman she says she is. But I think we've got it. And I shall be free, said Lady Eustis, clasping her hands together. It will cost a good deal, I fear, said Mr. Camperdown. But I shall be free. Oh, Mr. Camperdown, there is not a woman in all the world who cares so little for money as I do. But I shall be free from the power of that hard man who has entangled me in the meshes of his sinful life. Mr. Camperdown told her that he thought that she would be free, and went on to say that Joseph Amelius had already been arrested and was again in prison. The unfortunate man had not therefore long enjoyed that humbler apartment which he had found for himself in Jellybag Street. When Mr. Camperdown went, Mrs. Bonteen followed him out to the top of the stairs. You have heard about the trial, Mr. Camperdown? He said that he knew that it was to take place at the Central Criminal Court in June. Yes, I don't know why they have put it off so long. People know that he did it, eh? Mr. Camperdown, with funerial sadness, declared that he had never looked into the matter. I cannot understand that everybody should not know it," said Mrs. Bonteen. End of Chapter 59, Recording by Leigh Ann Howlett. CHAPTER XXXV of Phineas Redux This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Patti Cunningham Phineas Redux by Anthony Trollop. CHAPTER XXXV Two days before the trial. There was a scene in the private room of Mr. Wickerby, the attorney in Hatten Garden, which was very distressing indeed to the feelings of Lord Faun, and which induced his lordship to think that he was being treated without that respect which was due to him as a peer and a member of the government. There were present at this scene Mr. Schaffenbrass, the old barrister, Mr. Wickerby himself, Mr. Wickerby's confidential clerk, Lord Faun, Lord Faun's solicitor, that same Mr. Camperdon whom we saw in the last chapter calling upon Lady Eustis, and a policeman. Lord Faun had been invited to attend, with many protestations of regret as to the trouble thus imposed upon him, because the very important nature of the evidence about to be given by him at the forthcoming trial seemed to render it expedient that some questions should be asked. This was on Tuesday, the 22nd June, and the trial was to be commenced on the following Thursday, and there was present in the room very conspicuously an old heavy gray gray coat, as to which Mr. Wickerby had instructed Mr. Schaffenbrass that evidence was forthcoming if needed, to prove that that coat was lying on the night of the murder in a downstairs room in the house in which Joseph Milius was then lodging. The reader will remember the history of the coat. Instigated by Madame Ghostler, who was still absent from England, Mr. Wickerby had traced the coat and had purchased the coat, and was in a position to prove that this very coat was the coat which Mr. Meager had brought home with him to North Emberland Street on that day. But Mr. Wickerby was of opinion that the coat had better not be used. It does not go far enough, said Mr. Wickerby. It don't go very far, certainly, said Mr. Schaffenbrass, and if you try to show that another man has done it and he hasn't, said Mr. Wickerby, it always tells against you with a jury. To this Mr. Schaffenbrass made no reply, preferring to form his own opinion and to keep it to himself when formed. But in obedience to his instructions, Lord Fawn was asked to attend at Mr. Wickerby's chambers in the cause of truth, and the coat was brought out on the occasion. Was that the sort of coat the man wore, my lord? said Mr. Schaffenbrass, as Mr. Wickerby held up the coat to view. Lord Fawn walked round and round the coat, and looked at it very carefully before he would vouchsafe a reply. You see it is a gray coat, said Mr. Schaffenbrass, not speaking at all in the tone which Mr. Wickerby's note had induced Lord Fawn to expect. It is gray, said Lord Fawn. Perhaps it's not the same shade of gray, Lord Fawn. You seem, my lord, we are most anxious not to impute guilt where guilt doesn't lie. You are a witness for the crown, and of course you will tell the crown-lawyers all that passes here. Were it possible, we would make this little preliminary inquiry in their presence. But we can hardly do that. Mr. Finn's coat was a very much smaller coat. I should think it was, said his lordship, who did not like being questioned about coats. You don't think the coat the man wore when you saw him was a big coat like that? Do you think he wore a little coat? He wore a gray coat, said Lord Fawn. This is gray. A coat shouldn't be grayer than that. I don't think Lord Fawn should be asked any more questions on the matter till he gives his evidence in court, said Mr. Camperdon. A man's life depends on it, Mr. Camperdon, said the barrister. It isn't a matter of cross-examination. If I bring that coat into court, I must make a charge against another man by the very act of doing so. And I will not do so unless I believe that other man to be guilty. It's an inquiry I can't postpone till we are before the jury. It isn't that I want to trump up a case against another man for the sake of extricating my client on a false issue. Lord Fawn doesn't want to hang Mr. Finn if Mr. Finn be not guilty. God forbid, said his lordship. Mr. Finn couldn't have worn that coat, or a coat at all like it. What is it you do want to learn, Mr. Shaffenbrass, asked Mr. Camperdon? Just put on the coat, Mr. Scrooby. Then at the order of the barrister, Mr. Scrooby, the attorney's clerk, did put on Mr. Meagher's old gray coat, and walked about the room in it. Walk quick, said Mr. Shaffenbrass, and the clerk did walk quick. He was a stout, thick-set little man, nearly half a foot shorter than Finneas Finn. Is that at all like the figure, asked Mr. Shaffenbrass? I think it is like the figure, said Lord Fawn. And like the coat? It is the same color as the coat. You wouldn't swear it was not the coat. I am not on my oath at all, Mr. Shaffenbrass. No, my lord, but to me your word is as good as your oath. If you think it possible, that was the coat. I don't think anything about it at all. When Mr. Scrooby hurries down the room in that way, he looks as the man looked when he was hurrying under the lamppost. I am not disposed to say any more at present. It's a matter of regret to me that Lord Fawn should have come here at all, said Mr. Camperdon, who had been summoned to meet his client at the chambers, but had come with him. I suppose his lordship wishes us to know all that he knew, seeing that it's a question of hanging the right man or the wrong one. I never heard such trash in my life. Take it off, Mr. Scrooby, and let the policemen keep it. I understand Lord Fawn to say that the man's figure was about the same as yours. My client, I believe, stands about twelve inches taller. Thank you, my lord. We shall get at the truth at last. I don't doubt. It was afterward said that Mr. Shafenbros' conduct had been very improper in enticing Lord Fawn to Mr. Wickerby's chambers, but Mr. Shafenbros never cared what anyone said. I don't know that we can make much of it, he said, when he and Mr. Wickerby were alone, but it may be as well to bring it into court. It would prove nothing against the Jew even if that fellow, he meant Lord Fawn, could be made to swear that the coat-worn was exactly similar to this. I am thinking now about the height. I don't doubt, but you'll get him off. Well, I may do so. They ought not to hang any man on such evidence as there is against him, even though there were no moral doubt of his guilt. There is nothing really to connect Mr. Phineus Fenn with the murder. Nothing tangible, but there is no saying nowadays what a jury will do. Juries depend a great deal more on the judge than they used to do. If I were on trial for my life, I don't think I'd have counsel at all. No one could defend you as well as yourself, Mr. Shafenbros. I didn't mean that. No, I shouldn't defend myself. I should say to the judge, my lord, I don't doubt the jury will do just as you tell them, and you'll form your own opinion quite independent of the arguments. You'd be hung, Mr. Shafenbros? No. I don't think that I should, said Mr. Shafenbros slowly. I don't think I could affront a judge of the present day into hanging me. They've too much of what I call thick-skinned honesty for that. It's the temper of the time to resent nothing. To be mealy-mouthed and mealy-hearted, jurymen are afraid of having their own opinion, and almost always shirk a verdict when they can. But we do get verdicts. Yes, the judge gives them, and they are mealy-mouthed verdicts, tending to equalize crime and innocence, and to make men think that after all it may be a question whether fraud is violence, which after all is manly, and to feel that we cannot afford to hate dishonesty. It was a bad day for the commercial world, Mr. Wickerby, when forgery ceased to be capital. It was a horrid thing to hang a man for writing another man's name to a receipt for thirty shillings. We didn't do it, but the fact that the law held certain frauds to be hanging matters operated on the minds of men in regard to all fraud. What with the joint-stock working of companies, and the confusion between directors who know nothing and managers who know everything, and the dislike of juries to tread upon people's corns, you can't punish dishonest trading. Caveat Imptor is the only motto going, and the worst proverb that ever came from dishonest stony-hearted Rome. With such a motto as that to guide us, no man dare trust his brother. Caveat lex, and let the man who cheats, cheat at his peril. You'd give the law a great deal to do. Much less than at present, what does your Caveat Imptor come to, that every seller tries to pick the eyes out of the head of the purchaser? Sooner or later the law must interfere, and Caveat Imptor falls to the ground. I bought a horse the other day, my daughter wanted something to look pretty, and like an old ass as I am, I gave a hundred and fifty pounds for the brute. When he came home, he wasn't worth a feed of corn. You had a warranty, I suppose? No, indeed. Did you ever hear of such an old fool? I should have thought any dealer would have taken him back for the sake of his character. Any dealer would, but I bought him of a gentleman. PISTER SHOFFENBROSS! I ought to have known better oughtn't I, Caveat Imptor. It was just giving away your money, you know. A great deal worse than that, I could have given the gentleman a hundred and fifty pounds, and not have minded it much. I ought to have had the horse killed and gone to a dealer for another. Instead of that, I went to an attorney. Oh, Mr. Shoffenbross, the idea of your going to an attorney. I did, then. I never had so much honest truth told me in my life. By an attorney? He said that he did think I'd been born long enough to have known better than that. I pleaded on my own behalf that the gentleman said the horse was all right. Gentlemen, exclaimed my friend, you go to a gentleman for a horse. You buy a horse from a gentleman without a warranty, and then you come to me. Didn't you ever hear of Caveat Imptor, Mr. Shoffenbross? What can I do for you? That's what my friend the attorney said to me. And what came of it, Mr. Shoffenbross? Arbitration, I should say. Just that, with the horse eating his head off every meal at ever so much per week, till at last I fairly gave in from sheer vexation. So the gentleman got my money, and I added something to my stock of experience. Of course, that's only my story, and it may be that the gentleman could tell it another way. But I say that if my story be right, the doctrine of Caveat Imptor does not encourage trade. I don't know how we got to all this from Mr. Finn. I'm to see him to-morrow. Yes, he is very anxious to speak to you. What's the use of it, wicker bee? I hate seeing a client. What comes of it? Of course he wants to tell his own story. But I don't want to hear his own story. What good will his own story do me? He'll tell me either one of two things. He'll swear he didn't murder the man. That's what he'll say. Which can have no effect upon me one way or the other. Or else he'll say that he did, which would cripple me altogether. He won't say that, Mr. Shoffenbross. There's no knowing what they'll say. A man will go on swearing by his God that he is innocent till at last, in a moment of emotion, he breaks down and outcomes the truth. In such a case as this, I do not in the least want to know the truth about the murder. That is what the public wants to know, because the public is ignorant. The public should not wish to know anything of the kind. What we should all wish to get at is the truth of the evidence about the murder. The man is to be hung not because he committed the murder, as to which no positive knowledge is attainable, but because he has been proved to have committed the murder, as to which proof, though it be enough for hanging, there must always be attached some shadow of doubt. We were delighted to hang Palmer, but we don't know that he killed Cook. A learned man who knew more about it than we can know seemed to think that he didn't. Now the last man to give us any useful insight into the evidence is the prisoner himself. In nineteen cases out of twenty, a man tried for murder in this country committed the murder for which he has tried. There really seems to be a doubt in this case, I dare say. If there be only nineteen guilty out of twenty, there must be one innocent. And why not Mr. Finney as Finn? But if it be so, he, burning with a sense of injustice, thinks that everybody should see it as he sees it. He is to be tried because, on investigation, everybody sees it just in a different light. In such case he is unfortunate, but he can't assist me in liberating him from his misfortune. He sees what is patent and clear to him, that he walked home on that night without meddling with anyone. But I can't see that, or make others see it, because he sees it. His manner of telling you may do something. If it do, Mr. Wickerby, it is because I am unfit for my business. If he have the gift of protesting well, I am to think him innocent. And therefore to think him guilty, if he be unprovided with such eloquence, I will neither believe or disbelieve anything that a client says to me, unless he confesses his guilt, in which case my services can be but of little avail. Of course I shall see him, as he asks it. We had better meet there, say at half past ten. Whereupon Mr. Wickerby wrote a note to the governor of the prison, begging that Finney as Finn might be informed of the visit. Finney as had now been in jail between six and seven weeks, and the very fact of his incarceration had nearly broken his spirits. Two of his sisters, who had come from Ireland to be near him, saw him every day, and his two friends, Mr. Lowe and Lord Chiltern, were very frequently with him. Lady Laura Kennedy had not come to him again, but he heard from her frequently through Berington Earl. Lord Chiltern rarely spoke of his sister, alluding to her merely in connection with her father and her late husband. Presence still came to him from various quarters, as to which he hardly knew whence they came. But the Duchess and Lady Chiltern and Lady Laura all catered for him, while Mrs. Bunce looked after his wardrobe, and saw that he was not cut down to prison allowance of clean shirts and socks. But the only friend whom he recognized as such was the friend who would freely declare a conviction of his innocence. They allowed him books and pens and paper, and even cards if he chose to play at patience with them, or build castles. The paper and pens he could use because he could write about himself. From day to day he composed a diary in which he was never tired of expatiating on the terrible injustice of his position. But he could not read. He found it impossible to fix his attention on matters outside himself. He assured himself from hour to hour that it was not death he feared, not even death from the hangman's hand. It was the condemnation of those who had known him that was so terrible to him. The feeling that they, with whom he had aspired to work and live, the leading men and women of his day, ministers of the government and their wives, statesmen and their daughters, peers and members of the house in which he himself had sat, that these should think that after all he had been a base adventurer unworthy of their society. That was the sorrow that broke him down, and drew him to confess that his whole life had been a failure. Mr. Low had advised him not to see Mr. Schoffenbrass. But he had persisted in declaring that there were instructions which no one but himself could give the counselor whose duty it would be to defend him at the trial. Mr. Schoffenbrass came at the hour fixed, and with him came Mr. Wickerby. The old barrister bowed courteously as he entered the prison room, and the attorney introduced the two gentlemen with more than all the courtesy of the outer world. "'I am sorry to see you here, Mr. Finn,' said the barrister. "'It's a bad lodging, Mr. Schoffenbrass, but the term will soon be over. I am thinking a good deal more of my next abode.' "'It has to be thought of, certainly,' said the barrister. "'Let us hope that it may be all that you would wish it to be. My services shall not be wanting to make it so.' "'We are doing all we can, Mr. Finn,' said Mr. Wickerby. "'Mr. Schoffenbrass,' said Finneas, "'there is one special thing that I want you to do.' The old man, having his own idea as to what was coming, laid one of his hands over the other, bowed his head, and looked meek. "'I want you to make men believe that I am innocent of this crime. This was better than Mr. Schoffenbrass expected. I trust that we may succeed in making twelve men believe it,' said he. "'Comparatively, I do not care a straw for the twelve men. It is not to them especially that I am anxious that you should address yourself. But that will be my bounden duty, Mr. Finn. I can well believe, sir, that though I have myself been bred a lawyer, I may not altogether understand the nature of an advocate's duty to his client, but I would wish something more to be done than what you intimate. The duty of an advocate defending a prisoner is to get a verdict of acquittal if he can, and to use his own discretion in making the attempt. But I want something more to be attempted, even if in the struggle something less be achieved. I have known men to be so acquitted that every man in court believe them to be guilty. No doubt, and such men probably owed much to their advocates. It is not such a debt that I wish to owe. I know my own innocence. "'Mr. Schaffenbrass takes that for granted,' said Mr. Wickerby. "'To me it is a matter of astonishment that any human being should believe me to have committed this murder. I am lost in surprise when I remember that I am here simply because I walked home from my club with a loaded stick in my pocket. The magistrate, I suppose, thought me guilty. He did not think about it, Mr. Finn. He went by the evidence, the quarrel, your position in the streets at the time, the color of the coat you wore, and that of the coat worn by the man whom Lord Fawn saw in the street, the doctor's evidence as to the blows by which the man was killed, and the nature of the weapon which you carried. He put these things together, and they were enough to entitle the public to demand that a jury should decide. He didn't say you were guilty. He only said that the circumstances were sufficient to justify a trial. If he thought me innocent, he would not have sent me here. Yes, he would, if the evidence required that he should do so. We will not argue about that, Mr. Schaffenbrass. Certainly not, Mr. Finn. Here I am, and to-morrow I shall be tried for my life. My life will be nothing to me unless it can be made clear to all the world that I am innocent. I would be sooner hung for this, with a certainty at my heart that all England on the next day would ring with the assurance of my innocence, than be acquitted and afterwards be looked upon as a murderer. Phineas, when he was thus speaking, had stepped out into the middle of the room, and stood with his head thrown back and his right hand forward. Mr. Schaffenbrass, who was himself an ugly, dirty, old man, who had always peaked himself on being indifferent to appearance, found himself struck by the beauty and grace of the man whom he now saw for the first time, and he was struck too by his client's eloquence, though he had expressly declared to the attorney that it was his duty to be superior to any such influence. Oh, Mr. Schaffenbrass, for the love of heaven, let there be no quibbling. We never quibble, I hope, Mr. Finn. No subterfuges, no escaping by a side wind, no advantage taken of little forms, no objection taken to this and that as though delay would avail us anything. Character will go a great way, we hope. It should go for nothing, though no one would speak a word for me, still am I innocent. Of course the truth will be known some day. I'm not so sure of that, Mr. Finn. It will certainly be known some day, that it should not be known as yet is my misfortune. But in defending me I would have you hurled defiance at my accusers. I had the stick in my pocket, having here to fore been concerned with ruffians in the street. I did quarrel with the man, having been insulted by him at the club. The coat which I wore was such as they say. But does that make a murderer of me? Somebody did the deed, and that somebody could probably say all that you say. No, sir. He, when he is known, will be found to have been skulking in the streets. He will have thrown away his weapon. He will have been secret in his movements. He will have hidden his face, and have been a murderer in more than the deed. When they came to me in the morning, did it seem to them that I was a murderer? Has my life been like that? They who have really known me cannot believe that I have been guilty. They who have not known me and do believe will live to learn their error. He then sat down and listened patiently while the old lawyer described to him the nature of the case, wherein lay is danger, and wherein what hope there was of safety. There was no evidence against him other than circumstantial evidence, and both judges and jury were want to be unwilling to accept such, when uncorroborated, as sufficient in cases of life and death. Unfortunately in this case the circumstantial evidence was very strong against him, but on the other hand his character, as to which men of great mark would speak with enthusiasm, would be made to stand very high. I would not have it made to stand higher than it is, said Phineas. As to the opinion of the world afterwards, Mr. Schaffenbrass went on to say, of that he must take his chance. But surely he himself might fight better for it living than any friend could do for him after his death. You must believe me in this, Mr. Finn, that a verdict of acquittal from the jury is the one object that we must have before us. The one object that I shall have before me is the verdict of the public, said Phineas. I am treated with so much injustice in being thought a murderer that they can hardly add anything to it by hanging me. When Mr. Schaffenbrass left the prison, he walked back with Mr. Wickerby to the attorney's chambers in Hatton Garden, and he lingered for a while on the viaduct expressing his opinion of his client. He is not a bad fellow, Wickerby. A very good sort of fellow, Mr. Schaffenbrass. I never did, and I never will, express an opinion of my own as to the guilt or innocence of a client till after the trial is over. But I have sometimes felt as though I would give the blood out of my veins to save a man. I never felt in that way more strongly than I do now. It'll make me very unhappy, I know, if it goes against him, said Mr. Wickerby. People think that the special branch of the profession into which I have chance to fall is a very low one, and I do not know whether, if the world were before me again, I would allow myself to drift into an exclusive practice in criminal courts. Yours has been a very useful life, Mr. Schaffenbrass. But I often feel, continued the barrister, paying no attention to the attorney's last remark, that my work touches the heart more nearly than does that of gentlemen who have to deal with matters of property and of high social claims. People think I am savage, savage to witnesses. You can frighten a witness, Mr. Schaffenbrass. It's just the trick of the trade that you learn, as a girl learns the notes of her piano. There's nothing in it. You forget it all the next hour. But when a man has been hung whom you have striven to save, you do remember that. Good morning, Mr. Schenbrass. The task of seeing an important trial at the Old Bailey is by no means a pleasant business, unless you be what the citizens of the court would call one of the swells, so as to enjoy the privilege of being a bench fellow with the judge on the seat of judgment. And even in that case, the pleasure is not unalloyed. You have indeed the gratification of seeing the man whom all the world has been talking about for the last nine days, face to face. And of being seen in a position which causes you to be acknowledged as a man of mark. But the intolerable stenches of the court, and its hoarded heat come up to you there, no doubt as powerfully as they fall in those below. And then the tedium of a prolonged trial, in which the points of interest are apt to be few and far between, grows upon you till you begin to feel that though the prime minister who is out and should murder the prime minister who is in, and all the members of the two cabinets were to be called in evidence, you would not attend the trial, though the seat of honor next to the judge were accorded to you. Those bewigged ones who are the performers are so insufferably long in their parts, so arrogant in their bearing, so it strikes you, though doubtless the fashion of working has been found to be efficient for the purposes they have in hand, and so uninteresting in their repetition that you first admire, and then question, and it lacks, execrate the imperturbable patience of the judge who might, as you think, force the thing through in a quarter of the time without any injury to justice. And it will probably strike you that the length of the trial is proportionate not to the complicity but to the importance, or rather to the public interest of the case. So that the trial which has been suggested of a disappointed and bloody-minded ex-prime minister would certainly take at least a fortnight, even though the speaker of the House of Commons and the Lord Chancellor had seen the blow struck, whereas the Collier might knock his wife's brains out in the dark and be sent to the gallows with a trial that shall not last three hours. Yet the Collier has to be hung if found guilty, and no one thinks that his life is improperly endangered by reckless haste. Whether life may not be improperly saved by the more-lengthened process is another question. But the honors of such bench fellowship can be accorded but to few, and the tax becomes very tiresome when the spectator has to enter the court as an ordinary mortal. There are two modes open to him, either of which is subject to grievous penalties. If he beats a possessor of a decent coat and hat, he can scrape any acquaintance with any one concerned. He may get introduced to that overworked and greatly perfected official, the undersheriff, who will state him off if possible, knowing that even an undersheriff cannot make space elastic. But if the introduction has been acknowledged as good, we'll probably find a seat for him if he perseveres to the end. But the seat when obtained must be kept in possession from morning to evening, and the bite must be renewed from day to day. The benches are hard and the space is narrow, and you feel that the undersheriff would prod you with his sword if you were ventured to sneeze, or to put to your lips the flask which you have in your pocket. And then, when all the bench fellows go out to lunch at half past one, and you are left to eat a sandwich without room for your elbows, a feeling of unsatisfied ambition will pervade you. It is all very well to be the friend of an undersheriff, but if you could but have known the judge, or have been a cousin of the real sheriff, how different it might have been with you. But you may be altogether independent, and as a matter of right, walk into an open English Court of Law as one of the British public. You will have to stand, of course, and to commence standing very early in the morning if you intend to succeed in witnessing any portion of the performance. And when you have made once good your entrance as one of the British public, you are apt to be a good deal knocked about. Not only by your public brethren, but also by those who have to keep the avenues free for witnesses, and who will regard you from first to last as a disagreeable excrescence on the officialities of the work at hand. Upon the whole, it may be better for you perhaps to stay at home and read the record of the affair given in the next day's times. Impartial reporters, judicious readers, and able editors between them will preserve for you all the colonel, and will save you from the necessity of having to deal with the shell. At this trial, there were among the crowd who succeeded in entering the court three persons of our acquaintance, who had resolved to overcome the various difficulties. Mr. Monk, who had formerly been a cabinet minister, was seated on the bench, subject indeed to the heat and stenches, but privileged to eat the lunch. Mr. Quintus Slide of the People's Banner, who knew the court well for informal days, he had worked many an hour in it as a reporter, had obtained the good graces of the under sheriff. And Mr. Bunce, with all the energy of the British public, had forced his way in among the crowd, and had managed to wedge himself near to the dock, so that he might be able by a hoist of the neck to see his lodger as he stood at the bar. Of these three men, Bunce was assured that the prisoner was innocent, led to such assurance, partly by the belief in the man, and partly by an innate spirit of opposition to all exercise of restrictive power. Mr. Quintus Slide was certain of the prisoner's guilt, and gave himself considerable credit for having assisted in running down the criminal. It seemed to be natural to Mr. Quintus Slide that a man who had openly quarreled with the editor of the People's Banner should come to the gallows. Mr. Monk, as Phineas himself well knew, he had received a suspected murder into his warmest friendship and was made miserable even by his doubts. Since the circumstances of the case had come to his knowledge, they had weighed upon his mind so as to send his whole life. But he was a man who could not make his reasons subordinate to his feelings. If the evidence against his friend was strong enough to send his friend for trial, how should he dare to discredit the evidence because the man was his friend? He had visited Phineas in prison, and Phineas had accused him of doubting. You need not answer me, the unhappy man had said, but do not come unless you are able to tell me from your heart that you are sure of my innocence. There was no person living who could comfort me by such assurance as you could do. Mr. Monk had thought about it very much, but he had not repeated his visit. At a quarter past ten, the Chief Justice was on the bench with a second judge to help him, and with lords and distinguished commoners and great city magnates crowded the long feet between him and the dore. The court was full so that you would say that another head could not be made to appear, and Phineas Finn, the member for Tangerville, was in the dock. Barrington Earl, who was there to see, was one of the great ones, of course, told the Duchess of Omnium that night that Phineas was thin and pale and in many respects an altered man, but handsomer than ever. He bored himself well as the Duchess. Very well, very well indeed. We were there for six hours, and he maintained the same demeanor throughout. He never spoke but once, and that was when Captain Brass began his fight about the jury. What did he say? He addressed the judge in erupting slope, who was arguing that some man would make a very good juryman and declare that it was not by his wish that any objection was raised against any gentleman. What did the judge say? Told him to abide by his counsel. The Chief Justice was very civil to him, indeed better than civil. We'll have him down to matching and make ever so much of him so the Duchess. Don't go too fast, Duchess, for he may have to hang Porfinius yet. Oh dear, I wish you wouldn't use that word, but what did he say? He told Phineas that as he had thought fit to employ counsel for his defense, in doing which he had undoubtedly acted wisely, he must leave the case to the direction of his counsel. And then Porfinius was silent. He spoke another word, my lord, said he, I for my part wish that the first twelve men of the Lyft might be taken, but old Chaffin breast went on just the same. It took them two hours and a half before they could swear a jury. But Mr. Earl, taking it all together, which way is it going? Nobody can even guess as yet. There was ever so much delay besides that about the jury. It seemed that somebody had called him Phineas instead of Phineas, and that took half an hour. They begin with the quarrel at the club and are to call the first witness tomorrow morning. They are to examine Rattler about the quarrel and Fitzgibbon and Monk, and I believe old Bouncer, the man who writes, you know. They all heard what took place. So did you. I've managed to escape that. They can't very well examine all the club, but I should be called afterwards as to what took place at the door. They will begin with Rattler. Everybody knows there was a quarrel and that Mr. Vontine had been drinking and that he behaved. It must all be proved to touch us. I'll tell you what, Mr. Earl, if this ends badly for Mr. Phineas, I'll wear mourning to the day of my death. I'll go to the drawing room in mourning to show what I think of it. Lord Shiltern, who was also on the bench, took his account of the trial home to his wife and sister in Portman Square. At this time, Miss Palliser was staying with them, and the three ladies were together when the account was brought to them. In that house, it was taken as doctrine that she was innocent. In the presence of her brother and before her sister and mom's visitor, Lady Laura had learned to be silent on the subject, and she now contented herself with listening, knowing that she could relieve herself by speech when alone with Lady Shiltern. I never do anything so tedious in my life as the master of the breakouts. They have not done anything yet. I suppose they have made their speeches, said his wife. Sir Gregory Grogin opened the case, as they call it, in a very strong case he made of it. I never believe anything that a lawyer says when he has a wig on his head and a fee in his hand. I prepare myself beforehand to regard it all as mere words supplied at so much the thousand. I know he'll say whatever he thinks must likely to forward his own views. But upon my word, he put it very strongly. He brought it all within so very short a space of time. Bontein and Finn left the club within a minute each other. Bontein must have been at the top and Finneas at that moment could not have been above 200 yards from him. There can be no doubt of that. Oswald, you don't mean to say that it's going against him, exclaimed Lady Shiltern. It's not going any way at present. The witnesses have not been examined, but so far I suppose the attorney general was right. He has got to prove it all, but so much no doubt he can prove. He can prove that the man was killed with some blunt weapon such as Finn had. And he can prove that exactly at the same time that the man was running to the spot very like to Finn, and that by a route which would not have been his route but by using which he could have placed himself at that moment where the man was seen. How very dreadful said Miss Palliser. And yet I feel that I know it was that other man said Lady Shiltern. Lady Laura Satzha went through it all listening with her eyes intent on her brother's face and with her elbow on the table and her brow on her hand. She did not speak a word until she found herself alone with her sister-in-law. And then it was hardly more than a word. Violet, they will murder him. Lady Shiltern endeavored to comfort her, telling her that as yet they had heard but one side of the case, but the wretched woman only shook her head. I know they will murder him, she said. And then when it is too late they will find out what they have done. On the following day the crowd and court was, if possible, greater so that the bench fellows were very much squeezed but it was impossible to exclude from the high seat such men as Mr. Rattler and Lord Fawn when they were required in the court as witnesses and not a man who had obtained a seat on the first day was willing to be excluded on the second. And even then the witnesses were not called at once. Sir Gregory Grogham began the work of the day by saying that he had heard that morning for the first time that one of the witnesses had been tampered with was the word that he unfortunately used by his learned friend on the other side. He alluded, of course, to Lord Fawn and poor Lord Fawn sitting up there in the seat of honor visible to all the world became very hot and very uncomfortable. Then there arose a vehement dispute between Sir Gregory assisted by Sir Simon and old Mr. Chappenbrass who rejected with disdain any assistance from the gentler men who were with him. Tampered with, that word should be recalled by the honorable gentleman who was at the head of the bar Mr. Chappenbrass declared that as an alternative he would pull the court about the years it would have been no more than he meant. Lord Fawn had been invited not summoned to attend and why? In order that no suspicion of guilt might be thrown on another man unless the knowledge that was in Lord Fawn's bosom and there alone would justify such a line of defense. Lord Fawn had been attended by his own solicitor and might have brought the attorney general with him had he so pleased. There was a great deal set on both sides and something set also by the judge. Alas, Sir Gregory withdrew the objectionable word and substituted in lieu of it an assertion that his witness had been indiscreetly questioned. Mr. Chappenbrass would not for a moment admit the indiscretion but bounce about in his place tearing his wig almost off his head and defying everyone in the court. The judge submitted to Mr. Chappenbrass that he had been indiscreet. I never contradicted the bench yet my lord Mr. Chappenbrass at which there was a general titter throughout the bar but I must claim the privilege of conducting my own practice according to my own views. In this court I am subject to the bench in my own chamber I am subject only to the law of the land. The judge looking over his spectacles said a mild word about the profession at large. Mr. Chappenbrass twisting his wig quite on one side so that it nearly fell on Mr. Sergeant Birdbolts face muttered something as to having seen more work done in that court than any other living lawyer let his rank be what it might. When the little affair was over everybody felt that Sir Gregory had been vanquished. Mr. Rattler and Lawrence St. Skibman and Mr. Monk and Mr. Bouncer were examined about the quarrel at the club and proved that the quarrel had been a very bitter quarrel. They all agreed that Mr. Bonteen had been wrong and that the prisoner had had cause for anger. Of the three distinguished legislators and statesmen above named Mr. Brass refused to take the slightest notice. I have no question to put to you he said to Mr. Rattler of course there was a quarrel we all know that but he did ask your question or two of Mr. Bouncer. You write books I think Mr. Bouncer. I do said Mr. Bouncer with dignity. Now there was no peculiarity and a witness to which Mr. Chappenbrass was so much opposed as an assumption of dignity. What sorts of books Mr. Bouncer? I write novels said Bouncer feeling that Mr. Chappenbrass must have been ignorant indeed of the polite literature of the day to make such a question necessary. You mean fiction? Well, yes. Fiction if you like that word better. I don't want either particularly. You have to find plots haven't you? Mr. Bouncer paused a moment. Yes, yes you said. In writing a novel it is necessary to construct a plot. Where do you get them from? Where do I get them from? Yes, where do you find them? You take them from the French mostly don't you? Mr. Bouncer became very red. Isn't that the way our English writers get their plots? Sometimes perhaps. Yours ain't French then? Well, no. That is, I won't undertake to say that. You wanted to take to say that they're not French? Is this relevant to the case before us Mr. Chappenbrass as the judge? Quite so my lord. We have a highly distinguished novelist before us my lord but as I have reason to believe is intimately acquainted with the French system of the construction of plots. The business which the French carried to perfection. The plot of a novel should, I imagine, be constructed in accordance with human nature. Certainly said Mr. Bouncer. You have murders in novels. Sometimes said Mr. Bouncer who had himself done many murders in his time. Did you ever know a French novelist have premeditated murder committed by a man who could not receive the murder ten minutes before he committed it? With whom the cause of the murder anteceded the murder no more than ten minutes. Mr. Bouncer stood thinking for a while. We will give you your time because an answer to the question from you will be an important testimony. I don't think I do, said Mr. Bouncer who in his confusion had been quite unable to think of the plot of a single novel. And if there were such a French plot that would not be to the plot that you would borrow certainly not, said Mr. Bouncer. Did you ever read poetry, Mr. Bouncer? Oh yes, I read a great deal of poetry. Shakespeare perhaps? Mr. Bouncer did not condescend to do more than not has had. There was a murder described in Hamlet. Was that supposed by the poet to have been devised suddenly? I should say not. So should I, Mr. Bouncer. Do you remember the arrangements for the murder in Macbeth? That took a little time in kick-cocking, didn't it? No doubt it did. And when a falvel murdered Desdemona creeping up to her in her sleep he had been thinking of it for some time. I suppose he had. Do you ever read English novels as well as French, Mr. Bouncer? The unfortunate author again not at his head. When Amy Robb Sartre was lured to her death there was some time given to the preparation, eh? Of course there was. Of course there was. And Eugene Aram, when he murdered a man in Boulard's novel turned the matter over in his mind before he did it he was thinking a long time about it, I believe. Thinking about it a long time I rather think he was. Those great masters of human nature those men who knew the human heart did not venture to describe a secret murder that's coming from a man's brain without premeditation. Not that I can remember. Such also is my impression but now I'd be thinking of a murder that was almost as sudden as this is supposed to have been. Did the Dutch smuggler murder a scotch lawyer? All in a moment as it were? Dirk Hederich did murder Glossop in the antiquary very suddenly but he did it from passion. Just so, Mr. Bouncer there was no plot there, was there? No arrangement, no secret creeping up to his victim no escape even. He was chained. So he was chained like a dog and like a dog he flew at his enemy. If I understand you then, Mr. Bouncer you would not dare to violate probability in a novel as to produce a murderer to the public who should contrive a secret hidden murder contrive it and execute it all within a quarter of an hour. Mr. Bouncer after another minute of consideration said that he thought he would not do so. Mr. Bouncer said Mr. Chappenbrass I am uncommonly obliged to our excellent friend Sir Gregory for having given us the advantage of your evidence. End of Chapter 61 Chapter 62 of Phineas Redux This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. From more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Phineas Redux by Anthony Trout Chapter 62 Lord Fawn's Evidence A crowd of witnesses were heard on the second day after Mr. Chappenbrass had done but none of them were of much interest to the public. The three doctors were examined as to the state of the dead man's head when he was picked up and as to the nature of the instrument with which he had probably been killed and the fact that Phineas Finn's life preserver was proved. In the middle of which he begged the court would save itself some little trouble as he was quite ready to acknowledge that he had walked home with a short bludgeon which was then produced in his pocket. We would acknowledge a great deal if they would let us, said Mr. Chappenbrass. We acknowledge the quarrel. We acknowledge the walk home at night. We acknowledge the bludgeon and we acknowledge a gray coat. But that happened towards the close of the second day and they had not then reached the gray coat. The question of the gray coat was commenced on the third morning on the Saturday which day as was well known would be opened with the examination of Mr. Chappenbrass. The anxiety to hear Lord Fawn undergo his penance was intense and had been greatly increased by the conviction that Mr. Chappenbrass would resent upon him the charge made by the Attorney General as to tampering with a witness. I'll tamper with him by and by Mr. Chappenbrass had whispered to Mr. Wickerby and the whispered threat had been spread abroad. On the table before Mr. Chappenbrass when he took his place in the court and on the opposite side of the table just before this felicitor janitor was laid another gray coat of much lighter material. When Lord Fawn saw the two coats as he took a seat on the bench his heart failed him. He was hardly allowed to seat himself before he was called upon to be sworn. Sir Simon Slope who was to examine him took it for granted that his lordship could give his evidence from his place on the bench but to this Mr. Chappenbrass objected. He did not doubt that in his time he had examined some hundreds of witnesses from the bench. In 19 cases out of 20 there could be no objection to such a practice but in this case the noble lord would have to give evidence not only to what he had seen but as to what he then saw it would be expedient that he should see colors as nearly as possible in the same light as the jury which he would do if he stood in the witness box. And there might arise questions of identity in speaking of which it would be well that the noble lord should be as near as possible to the thing or person to be identified. He was afraid that he must trouble the noble lord to come down from the Elysium on the bench whereupon Lord Fawn descended and was sworn in at the witness box. His treatment from Sir Slope was all that was due from a solicitor general to a distinguished peer who was a member of the same government as himself. Sir Simon put his questions so as almost to reassure the witness and very quickly only too quickly obtained from him all the information that was needed on the side of the prosecution. Lord Fawn when he had left the club had seen both Mr. Bontein and Mr. Finn preparing to follow him but he had gone alone and had never seen Mr. Bontein since. He walked very slowly down into Curson Street and Bolton Row and went there as he was about to cross the road at the top of Claregis Street as he believed just as he was crossing the street. He saw a man come at a very fast pace out of the muse which runs into Bolton Row opposite to Claregis Street and from thence hurried very quickly toward the passage which separates the gardens of Devonshire and Lansdowne houses. It had already been proved that had Finneas Finn retraced his steps after Earl and Fitzgibbon had turned their backs upon him, his shortest and certainly most private way to the spot in which Lord Fawn had seen the man would have been by the muse in question. Lord Fawn went on to say that the man wore a grey coat. As far as he could judge it was such a coat as Sir Simon now showed him. He could not at all identify the prisoner. He could not say whether the man he had seen was as tall as the prisoner. He thought that as far as he could judge there was not much difference in the height. He had not thought of Mr. Finn when he saw the man hurrying along nor he troubled his mind about the man. That was the end of Lord Fawn's evidence in chief which he would gladly have prolonged to the close of the day. Could he thereby have postponed the coming horrors of his cross-examination? But there he was in the clutches of the odious, dirty, little man, hating that little man, despising him because he was dirty and nothing better than an old Bailey Barrister and yet fearing him was so intense of fear. Mr. Chaffinbreath smiled at his victim and for a moment was quite soft with him as a cat is soft with a mouse. The reporters could hardly hear his first question. I believe you are an undersecretary of state. Lord Fawn acknowledged the fact now it was the case that in the palmy days of our hero's former career he had filled the very office which Lord Fawn now occupied and that Lord Fawn had at the time filled a similar position in another department. These facts Mr. Chaffinbreath extracted from his witness not without an appearance of unwillingness which was produced however altogether by the natural antagonism of the victim to his persecutor. For Mr. Chaffinbreath even when asking the simplest questions in the simplest words even when abstaining from the sarcasm of tone under which witnesses will want to feel that they were being flayed alive could so look at a man as to create an antagonism which no witness could conceal. In asking a man his name and age and calling he produced an impression that the man was unwilling to tell anything and that therefore the jury were entitled to regard his evidence with suspicion. Then continued Mr. Chaffinbreath you must have met him frequently in the intercourse of your business I suppose I did sometimes sometimes you belong to the same party we didn't sit in the same house I know that my lord I know very well what house you sat in but I suppose you would condescend to be acquainted with even a commoner of the very office which you hold now you belong to the same club with him I didn't go much to the clubs said Lord Faun but the quarrel of which we have heard so much took place at a club in your presence Lord Faun assented in fact you cannot but have been intimately and accurately acquainted with the personal appearance of the gentleman who is now on trial is that so I was never intimate with him Mr. Chaffinbreath looked up at the jury and shook his head sadly I am not presuming Lord Faun that you so far derogated as to be intimate with this gentleman as to whom however I shall be able to show by and by that he was the chosen friend of the very man under whose mastership you now serve I ask whether his appearance is not familiar to you Lord Faun at last said that it was do you know his height what should you say was his height Lord Faun altogether refused to give an opinion on such a subject but acknowledged that he should not be surprised if he were told that Mr. Finn was over six feet high in fact you considered him a tall man my lord there he is you can look at him see a tall man Lord Faun did look but wouldn't give an answer I'll undertake to say my lord that there isn't a person in the court at this moment except yourself who won't be ready to express an opinion on his oath that Mr. Finn is a tall man Mr. Chief Constable just let the prisoners step out from the dock for a moment he won't run away I must have his lordship's opinion as to Mr. Faun's height Porfiniest when this was said clutched hold of the front of the dock as though determined that nothing but main force should make him exhibit himself to the court in the manner proposed but the need for exhibition passed away I know that he is a very tall man said Lord Faun you know that he is a very tall man we all know it there can be no doubt about it he is as you say you have long been familiar I ask again my lord whether you have not been long familiar with his personal appearance after some further agonizing delay Lord Faun at last acknowledged that it had been so now we shall get on like a house on fire said Mr. Chathenbrass but still the old house did not burn very quickly a string of questions was then asked as to the attitude of the man who had been seen coming out of the muse wearing a gray coat as to his attitude and as to his general likeness Phineas Finn in answer to these Lord Faun would only say that he had not observed the man's attitude and had certainly not thought of the prisoner when he saw the man my lord said Mr. Chathenbrass very solemnly look at your late friend and colleague and remember that his life depends probably on the accuracy of your memory the man you saw murdered Mr. Bontein with all my experience in such matters which is great and with all my skill I cannot stand against that fact it is for me to show that that man and my client were not one and the same person and I must do so by means of your evidence by sifting what you say today and by comparing it with what you have already said on other occasions I understand you now to say that there is nothing in your remembrance of the man you saw independently of that color of that coat to guide you to an opinion whether that man was or was not one and the same with the prisoner in all the crowd then assembled there was no man more thoroughly under the influence of conscious as to his conduct and was lord fawn in reference to the evidence which he was called upon to give that only would the idea of endangering the life of a human being have been horrible to him but the sanctity of an oath was imperative to him he was essentially a truth speaking man if only he knew how to speak the truth he would have sacrificed much to establish the innocence of Phineas Finn not for the love of Phineas but for the love of innocence but not even to do that would he have lied he was a bad witness and by his slowness and by a certain unsustained pomposity which was natural to him had already taught the jury to think that he was anxious to convict the prisoner two men in the court and two only thoroughly understood his condition Mr. Chaffin Brass saw it all and intended without the slightest scruple to take advantage of it and the Chief Justice saw it all and was already resolving how he could set the witness right with the jury I didn't think of Mr. Finn at the time said Lord Fawn in answer to the last question so I understand the man didn't strike he was being tall I don't think that he did but yet in the evidence you gave before the magistrate in Bow Street I think you expressed a very strong opinion that the man you saw running out of the muse was Mr. Finn Lord Fawn was again silent I am asking your lordship a question and I must request an answer here is the Times report of the examination which you can refresh your memory and you are of course aware that it was mainly on your evidence as to hear reported that my client stands there in jeopardy of his life I am not aware of anything of the kind said the witness very well we will drop that then but such was your evidence whether important or not important of course your lordship can take what time you please for recollection but would not look at the newspaper which had been handed to him I cannot remember what words I used it seems to me that I thought it must have been Mr. Finn because I had been told that Mr. Finn could have been there by running around surely my lord that would not have suffice to induce you to give such evidence as it is there reported and the color of the coat said Lord Fawn in fact you went by the color of the coat and that only then there had been the quarrel it is not that begging the question Mr. Bonteen quarreled with Mr. Finn Mr. Bonteen was murdered by a man as we all believe whom you saw at a certain spot therefore you identified the man whom you saw as Mr. Finn was that so I did not identify him at any rate you do not do so now putting aside the gray coat there is nothing to make you now think that that man and Mr. Finn one and the same come my lord on behalf of that man's life which is in great jeopardy is in great jeopardy because of evidence given by you before the magistrate do not be ashamed to speak the truth openly though it be at variance with what you may have said before with ill advised haste my lord is it proper that I should be treated in this way said the witness appealing to the bench Mr. Chaffenbrest said the judge again looking at the barrister over his spectacles I think you are stretching the privilege of your position too far I shall have to stretch it further yet my lord his lordship and his evidence before the magistrate gave on his oath decided opinion that the man you saw was Mr. Finn and on that evidence Mr. Finn was committed for murder let him say openly now to the jury when Mr. Finn is on his trial for his life before the court and for all his hopes in life before the country whether he thinks as then he thought and on what grounds he thinks so I think so because of the quarrel and because of the gray coat for no other reasons no for no other reasons your only ground for suggesting identity is the gray coat and the quarrel said lord fawn my lord in giving evidence as to identity I fear that you do not understand the meaning of the word lord fawn looked up at the judge but the judge on this occasion said nothing at any rate we have it from you at present that there was nothing in the appearance of the man you saw like to that of Mr. Finn except the color of the coat I don't think there was said lord fawn slowly then there occurred a scene in the court which no doubt was gratifying to the spectators and may in part have repaid them for the wariness of the whole proceeding Mr. Chaffenbrass while lord fawn was still in the witness box requested permission for a certain man to stand forward and put on the coat which was lying on the table before him this coat being in truth the identical garment which Mr. Meager had brought home with him on the morning of the murder this man was Mr. Wickerby's clerk Mr. Scrooby and he put on the coat which seemed to fit him well Mr. Chaffenbrass then asked permission to examine Mr. Scrooby explaining that much time might be saved and declaring that he had but one question to ask after some difficulty this permission was given Mr. Scrooby was asked his height Mr. Scrooby was 5 feet 8 inches and had been accurately measured on the previous day with reference to the question then the examination of lord fawn was resumed and Mr. Chaffenbrass referred to that very regular interview to which he had so improperly enticed the witness in Mr. Wickerby's chambers for a long time Sir Gregory Grogham declared that he would not permit any illusion to what had taken place at a most improper conference a conference which he could not stigmatize in sufficiently strong language but Mr. Chaffenbrass smiling blandly smiling very blandly for him suggested that the impropriety of the conference that had been ever so abominable did not prevent the fact of the conference that he was manifestly within his right in alluding to it suppose my lord that lord fawn had confessed in Mr. Wickerby's chambers that he had murdered Mr. Finn himself and had since repented of that confession would Mr. Camperdown and Mr. Wickerby who were present and would I be now debarred from stating that confession and evidence because in deference to some fanciful rules of adequate lord fawn should not have been there Mr. Chaffenbrass at last prevailed and the evidence was resumed you saw Mr. Scrooby wear that coat in Mr. Wickerby's chambers Lord Fawn said that he could not identify the coat we'll take care to have it identified we shall get a great deal out of that coat yet you saw that man wear a coat like that yes I did and you see him now yes I do does he remind you of the figure of the man you saw come out of the muse Lord Fawn paused we can't make him move about here as we did in Mr. Wickerby's room but remembering that as you must do now does he look like the man I don't remember what the man looked like did you not tell us in Mr. Wickerby's room that Mr. Scrooby with the gray coat on was like the figure of the man questions of this nature were prolonged for nearly half an hour during which should Gregory made more than one attempt to defend his witness from the weapons of their joint enemies but Lord Fawn at last admitted that he had acknowledged his influence and did in some faint ambiguous fashion acknowledge it in his present evidence my lord said Mr. Chaffenbrass as he allowed Lord Fawn to go down you have no doubt taken a note of Mr. Scrooby's height whereupon the judge nodded his head end of chapter 62 chapter 63 of Binius Redox this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information please visit LibriVox.org the case for the prosecution was completed on Saturday evening Mrs. Bunce having been examined as the last witness on that side she was only called upon to say that her lodger had been in the habit of letting himself in and out of her house at all hours with a latchkey but she insisted on saying more and told the judge and the jury and the barristers that if they thought that Mr. Finn had murdered anybody they didn't know anything about the world in general whereupon Mr. Chaffenbrass said that he would like to ask her a question or two and with consummate flattery extracted from her her opinion of her lodger she had known him for years and thought that of all the gentlemen that ever were born he was the least likely to do such a bloody minded action Mr. Chaffenbrass was perhaps as possible as that of the lords and countesses during Sunday the trial was as a matter of course the talk of the town poor Lord Fawn shut himself up and was seen by no one but his conduct and evidence were discussed everywhere at the clubs it was thought that he had escaped as well as could be expected but he himself felt that he had been disgraced forever there was a very common opinion that Mr. Chaffenbrass had admitted too much when he had declared that the man whom Lord Fawn had seen was doubtless the murderer to the minds of men generally it seemed to be less evident that the man so seen should have done the deed then that Finney Finn should have been that man was it probable that there should be two men going about in grey coats in the exact same vicinity and at the exact same hour of the night and then the evidence which Lord Fawn had given before the magistrates was to the world at large at any rate as convincing as that given in the court the jury would of course be instructed to regard only the latter whereas the general public would naturally be guided by the two combined at the club it was certainly believed that the case was going against the prisoner you have read it all of course said the Duchess of Omnium to her husband as she sat with the observer in her hand on that Sunday morning the Sunday papers were full of the report and were enjoying a very extended circulation I wish you would not think so much about it said the Duke that's very easily said but how was one to help thinking about it of course I'm thinking about it it belonged to the man where Milius was lodging I will not talk about the quote Glencora if Mr. Finn did commit the murder it is right that he should be convicted but if he didn't it would be doubly right that he should be acquitted but the jury will have means of arriving at a conclusion without prejudice which you and I cannot have and therefore we should be prepared to take their verdict as correct if they find him guilty their verdict will be damnable and false said the Duchess whereupon the Duke turned away in anger and resolved that he would say nothing more about the trial which resolution however he was compelled to break before the trial was over what do you think about it Mr. Earl asked the other Duke I don't know what to think I only hope that he may be acquitted of course whether guilty or innocent well yes but if he's acquitted I shall believe him to have been innocent your grace thinks I am willing to think as you are Mr. Earl it was thus that people spoke of it with the exception of some very few all those who had known Phineas were anxious for an acquittal though they could not bring themselves to believe that an innocent man had been put in peril of his life on the Monday morning the trial was recommended and the whole day was taken up by the address which Mr. Chapin brass made to the jury he began by telling them the history of the coat which lay before them promising to prove by evidence all the details which he stated it was not his intention he said to accuse anyone of the murder it was his business to defend the prisoner not to accuse others but as he should prove to them two persons had been arrested as soon as the murder had been discovered two persons totally unknown to each other and who were never for a moment supposed to have acted together and the suspicion of the police had in the first instance pointed not to his client but to the other man that other man had also quarreled with Mr. Bontein and that other man was now in custody on a charge of bigamy chiefly through the instrumentality of Mr. Bontein who had been the friend of the victim of the supposed bigamist with the accusation of bigamy they would have nothing to do but he must ask them to take cognizance of that quarrel as well as of the quarrel at the club he then named that formerly popular preacher the Reverend Mr. Amelius and explained that he would prove that this man who had incurred the suspicion of the police in the first instance had during the night of the murder been so circumstance as to have been able to use the coat produced he would prove also that Mr. Amelius was of precisely the same height as the man who they had seen wearing the coat God forbid that he should bring an accusation of murder against a man on such slight testimony but if the evidence as grounded on the coat was slight against Amelius how could it prevail at all against his client the two coats were as different as chalk from cheese the one being what would be called a gentleman's fashionable walking coat the rap rascal of such a fellow as Mr. Meagher and yet Lord Faun who attempted to identify the prisoner only by his coat could give them no opinion as to which was the coat he had seen but Lord Faun who had found himself to be debarred by his conscience from repeating the opinion he had given before the magistrate as to the identity of Phineus Finn with the man he had seen did tell them that the figure of that man was similar to the figure of him who had worn the coat in the presence of them all this man in the street had therefore been like Mr. Amelius and could not in the least have resembled the prisoner Mr. Chappenbrass would not tell the jury that this point bore strongly against Mr. Amelius but he took upon himself to assert that it was quite sufficient to snap asunder the thin thread of circumstantial evidence by which his client was connected with the murder a great deal more was said about Lord Faun which was not complimentary to that nobleman his lordship is an honest slow man who has doubtless meant to tell you the truth but who does not understand the meaning of what he himself says when he swore before the magistrate that he thought he could identify my client with the man in the street he really meant that he thought that there must be identity because he believed from other reasons that Mr. Finn was the man in the street Mr. Bontein had been murdered according to Lord Faun's thinking had probably been murdered by Mr. Finn and it was also probable to him that Mr. Bontein had been murdered by the man in the street he came thus to the conclusion that the prisoner was the man in the street in fact as far as the process of identifying is concerned his lordship's evidence is all together in favor of the prisoner the figure seen by him we must suppose was the figure of a short man and not of one tall and commanding in presence as is that of the prisoner there were many other points on which Mr. Chappenbrass insisted at great length and chiefly perhaps on the improbability he might say impossibility that the plot for a murder so contrived should have entered into a man's head have been completed and executed all within a few minutes but under no hypothesis compatible with the allegation of the prosecution can it be conceived that the murder should have been contemplated by my client before the quarrel at the club no gentleman the murderer had been at his work for days he had examined the spot and measured the distances he dodged the steps of his victim on previous nights in the shade of some dark doorway he had watched him from his club and had hurried by secret path to the spot which he had appointed for the deed can any man doubt that the murder has thus been committed let who will have been the murderer but if so then my client could not have done the deed much had been made of the word spoken at the club door was it probable, was it possible that a man intending to commit a murder should declare how easily he could do it and display the weapon he intended to use the evidence given as to that part of the night's work was, he contended, all together in the prisoner's favor then he spoke of the life preserver and gave a rather long account of the manner in which Phineas Finn had once taken two garotters prisoner in the street all this lasted till the great men on the bench trooped out to lunch and then Mr. Chaffin Breast who had been speaking for nearly four hours in a pint of port wine while he was doing so Mr. Sergeant Birdbolt spoke a word to him but he only shook his head and snarled he was telling himself at the moment how quick may be the resolves of the eager mind for he was convinced that the idea of attacking Mr. Bontein had occurred to Phineas Finn after he had displayed the life preserver at the club door and he was telling himself also how impossible it is for a dull, conscientious man to give accurate evidence as to what he had himself seen Phineas Finn in the street but to no human being had he expressed his opinion nor would he express it unless his client should be hung after lunch he occupied nearly three hours in giving to the jury and of course to the whole assembled court the details of about two dozen cases in which apparently strong circumstantial evidence had been wrong in its tendency in some of the cases quoted the persons tried had been acquitted in some convicted and afterwards pardoned in one pardoned after many years of punishment and in one the poor victim had been hung on this he insisted with a pathetic eloquence which certainly would not have been expected from his appearance and spoke with tears in his eyes real unaffected tears of the misery of those wretched jurymen who in the performance of their duty had been led into so frightful an error through the whole of this long recital he seemed to feel no fatigue and when he had done with his list of judicial mistakes about five o'clock in the morning afternoon went on to make what he called the very few remarks necessary as to the evidence which on the next day he proposed to produce as to the prisoner's character he ventured to think that evidence as to the character of such a nature so strong, so convincing, so complete and so free from all objection had never yet been given in a criminal court at six o'clock he completed his speech and it was computed that the old man had been on his legs very nearly seven hours it was said of him afterwards that he was taken home speechless by one of his daughters and immediately put to bed that he roused himself about eight and ate his dinner and drank a bottle of poured in his bedroom that he then slept refusing to stir even when he was waked till half past nine in the morning and that he then scrambled into clothes breakfasted and got down to the court in half an hour at ten o'clock he was in his place and nobody knew that he was any worse for the previous day's exertion on a Tuesday the fifth day of the trial and upon the whole perhaps the most interesting along the ray of distinguished persons of women as well as men was brought up to give to the jury their opinion as to the character of Mr Finn Mr Lowe was the first who having been his tutor when he was studying at the bar knew him longer than any other Londoner then came this countryman Lauren Fitzgibbon and Barrington Earl and others of his own party who had been intimate with him and men too from the opposite side of the house were brought up among the number all of whom said that they had known the prisoner well and from their knowledge would have considered it impossible that he should have become a murderer the two last called were Lord Cantrip and Mr Monk one of whom was and the other had been a cabinet minister but before them came Lady Cantrip and Lady Chiltern whom we once knew as Violet Effingham whom this very prisoner had in early days finally hoped to make his wife who was still young and beautiful entered a public court there had of course been much question as to the witnesses to be selected the Duchess of Fominium had been anxious to be one but the Duke had forbidden it telling his wife that she really did not know the man and that she was carried away by a foolish enthusiasm Lady Cantrip when asked had at once consented she had known Finneas Finn when he had served under her husband and had liked him much then what other women's tongue should be brought to speak of the man's softness and tender bearing it was out of the question that Lady Laura Kennedy should appear she did not even propose it when her brother with unnecessary sternness told her it could not be so then his wife looked at him you shall go said Lord Chiltern if you feel equal to it it seems to be nonsense but they say it is important I will go said Violet with her eyes full of tears afterwards when her sister-in-law besought her to be generous in her testimony she only smiled as she ascended could generosity go beyond hers Lord Chiltern preceded his wife I have he said known Mr. Finn well and have loved him dearly I have eaten with him and drank with him have ridden with him, have lived with him, have quarreled with him and I know him as I do my own right hand then he stretched forth his arm with palm extended irrespectively of the evidence in this case you would not have thought him to be a man likely to commit such a crime as Sergeant Birdbolt I am quite sure from the knowledge of the man I do not commit a murder said Lord Chiltern and I don't care what the evidence is then came his wife and it certainly was a pretty sight to see her as her husband led her up to the box and stood close beside her as she gave her evidence there were many there who knew much of the history of her life who knew that passage unit of her early love where the tale had of course been told when it was whispered about that Lady Chiltern was to be examined as a witness every year was at first strain to hear her words they were audible in every corner of the court without any effort it need hardly be said that she was treated with the greatest deference on every side she answered the questions very quietly but apparently without nervousness yes she had known Mr. Finn long and intimately and had very greatly valued his friendship she did so still as much as ever yes she had known him for some years and in circumstances which she thought justified her in saying that she understood his character she regarded him as a man who was brave and tender-hearted soft and feeling and manly in disposition to her it was quite incredible that he should have committed a crime such as this she knew him to be a man prone to forgive offenses and of a sweet nature and it was pretty too to watch the unwanted gentleness of old chappenbress as he asked the questions and carefully abstained from putting anyone that could pain her Sir Gregory said that he had heard her evidence with great pleasure but that he had no question to ask her himself then she stepped down again took her husband's arm and left the court amidst a home of almost affection and greeting and what must have he thought as he stood there within the dock looking at her and listening to her there had been months in his life when he had almost trusted that he would succeed in winning that fair, highly-born and wealthy woman for his wife and though he had failed and now knew that he had never really touched her heart he would always love the man whom though she had rejected him time after time because of dangerous of his ways she had at last married yet it must have been pleasant to him even to his peril to hear from her own lips how well she had esteemed him she left the court with her veil down and he could not catch her eye but Lord Schiltern nodded to him in his old pleasant familiar way as though to bid him take courage and to tell him that all the things would yet be well with him given by Lady Cantrip and her husband and by Mr. Monk were equally favorable she had always regarded him as a perfect gentleman Lord Cantrip had found him to be devoted to the service of the country modest, intelligent and high-spirited perhaps the few words which fell from Mr. Monk were as strong as any that were spoken he is a man whom I have delighted to call my friend and I have been happy to think that his services have been at the disposal of his country Sir Gregory Grogham replied it seemed to him that the evidence was as he had left it it would be for the jury to decide under such directions as his lordship might be pleased to give them how far that evidence brought the guilt home to the prisoner he would use no rhetoric in pushing the case against the prisoner but he must submit to them that his learned friend had not shown that acquaintance with human nature which the gentleman undoubtedly possessed in arguing that there had lacked time conception and execution of the crime then at considerable length he strove to show that Mr. Chap and Bress had been unjustly severe upon Lord Vaughn it was late in the afternoon when Sir Gregory had finished his speech and the judge's charge was reserved for a sixth day end of chapter 63