The Law and the Lady

by Wilkie Collins

  CHAPTER XVI. FIRST QUESTION--DID THE WOMAN DIE POISONED?

  THE proceedings began at ten o'clock. The prisoner was placed atthe Bar, before the High Court of Justiciary, at Edinburgh. He bowedrespectfully to the Bench, and pleaded Not Guilty, in a low voice.

  It was observed by every one present that the prisoner's face betrayedtraces of acute mental suffering. He was deadly pale. His eyes neveronce wandered to the crowd in the Court. When certain witnesses appearedagainst him, he looked at them with a momentary attention. At othertimes he kept his eyes on the ground. When the evidence touched on hiswife's illness and death, he was deeply affected, and covered his facewith his hands. It was a subject of general remark and general surprisethat the prisoner, in this case (although a man), showed far lessself-possession than the last prisoner tried in that Court for murder--awoman, who had been convicted on overwhelming evidence. There werepersons present (a small minority only) who considered this wantof composure on the part of the prisoner to be a sign in his favor.Self-possession, in his dreadful position, signified, to their minds,the stark insensibility of a heartless and shameless criminal, andafforded in itself a presumption, not of innocence, but of guilt.

  The first witness called was John Daviot, Esquire, Sheriff-Substituteof Mid-Lothian. He was examined by the Lord Advocate (as counsel for theprosecution); and said:

  "The prisoner was brought before me on the present charge. He madeand subscribed a Declaration on the 29th of October. It was freelyand voluntarily made, the prisoner having been first duly warned andadmonished."

  Having identified the Declaration, the Sheriff-Substitute--beingcross-examined by the Dean of Faculty (as counsel for thedefense)--continued his evidence in these words:

  "The charge against the prisoner was Murder. This was communicatedto him before he made the Declaration. The questions addressed tothe prisoner were put partly by me, partly by another officer, theprocurator-fiscal. The answers were given distinctly, and, so far asI could judge, without reserve. The statements put forward inthe Declaration were all made in answer to questions asked by theprocurator-fiscal or by myself."

  A clerk in the Sheriff-Clerk's office then officially produced theDeclaration, and corroborated the evidence of the witness who hadpreceded him.

  The appearance of the next witness created a marked sensation in theCourt. This was no less a person than the nurse who had attended Mrs.Macallan in her last illness--by name Christina Ormsay.

  After the first formal answers, the nurse (examined by the LordAdvocate) proceeded to say:

  "I was first sent for to attend the deceased lady on the 7th of October.She was then suffering from a severe cold, accompanied by a rheumaticaffection of the left knee-joint. Previous to this I understood thather health had been fairly good. She was not a very difficult person tonurse when you got used to her, and understood how to manage her. Themain difficulty was caused by her temper. She was not a sullen person;she was headstrong and violent--easily excited to fly into a passion,and quite reckless in her fits of anger as to what she said or did. Atsuch times I really hardly think she knew what she was about. My ownidea is that her temper was made still more irritable by unhappiness inher married life. She was far from being a reserved person. Indeed,she was disposed (as I thought) to be a little too communicative aboutherself and her troubles with persons like me who were beneath her instation. She did not scruple, for instance, to tell me (when we hadbeen long enough together to get used to each other) that she was veryunhappy, and fretted a good deal about her husband. One night, when shewas wakeful and restless, she said to me--"

  The Dean of Faculty here interposed, speaking on the prisoner's behalf.He appealed to the Judges to say whether such loose and unreliableevidence as this was evidence which could be received by the Court.

  The Lord Advocate (speaking on behalf of the Crown) claimed it as hisright to produce the evidence. It was of the utmost importance in thiscase to show (on the testimony of an unprejudiced witness) on what termsthe husband and wife were living. The witness was a most respectablewoman. She had won, and deserved, the confidence of the unhappy ladywhom she attended on her death-bed.

  After briefly consulting together, the Judges unanimously decided thatthe evidence could not be admitted. What the witness had herself seenand observed of the relations between the husband and wife was the onlyevidence that they could receive.

  The Lord Advocate thereupon continued his examination of the witness.Christina Ormsay resumed her evidence as follows:

  "My position as nurse led necessarily to my seeing more of Mrs. Macallanthan any other person in the house. I am able to speak from experienceof many things not known to others who were only in her room atintervals.

  "For instance, I had more than one opportunity of personally observingthat Mr. and Mrs. Macallan did not live together very happily. I cangive you an example of this, not drawn from what others told me, butfrom what I noticed for myself.

  "Toward the latter part of my attendance on Mrs. Macallan, a young widowlady named Mrs. Beauly--a cousin of Mr. Macallan's--came to stay atGleninch. Mrs. Macallan was jealous of this lady; and she showed it inmy presence only the day before her death, when Mr. Macallan came intoher room to inquire how she had passed the night. 'Oh,' she said, 'nevermind how _I_ have slept! What do you care whether I sleep well or ill?How has Mrs. Beauly passed the night? Is she more beautiful than everthis morning? Go back to her--pray go back to her! Don't waste your timewith me!' Beginning in that manner, she worked herself into one of herfurious rages. I was brushing her hair at the time; and feeling thatmy presence was an impropriety under the circumstances, I attempted toleave the room. She forbade me to go. Mr. Macallan felt, as I did, thatmy duty was to withdraw, and he said so in plain words. Mrs. Macallaninsisted on my staying in language so insolent to her husband that hesaid, 'If you cannot control yourself, either the nurse leaves the roomor I do.' She refused to yield even then. 'A good excuse,' she said,'for getting back to Mrs. Beauly. Go!' He took her at her word, andwalked out of the room. He had barely closed the door before she beganreviling him to me in the most shocking manner. She declared, amongother things she said of him, that the news of all others which he wouldbe most glad to hear would be the news of her death. I ventured, quiterespectfully, on remonstrating with her. She took up the hair-brush andthrew it at me, and then and there dismissed me from my attendance onher. I left her, and waited below until her fit of passion had wornitself out. Then I returned to my place at the bedside, and for a whilethings went on again as usual.

  "It may not be amiss to add a word which may help to explain Mrs.Macallan's jealousy of her husband's cousin. Mrs. Macallan was a veryplain woman. She had a cast in one of her eyes, and (if I may use theexpression) one of the most muddy, blotchy complexions it was ever mymisfortune to see in a person's face. Mrs. Beauly, on the other hand,was a most attractive lady. Her eyes were universally admired, and shehad a most beautifully clear and delicate color. Poor Mrs. Macallan saidof her, most untruly, that she painted.

  "No; the defects in the complexion of the deceased lady were not inany way attributable to her illness. I should call them born and breddefects in herself.

  "Her illness, if I am asked to describe it, I should say wastroublesome--nothing more. Until the last day there were no symptomsin the least degree serious about the malady that had taken her.Her rheumatic knee was painful, of course--acutely painful, if youlike--when she moved it; and the confinement to bed was irksome enough,no doubt. But otherwise there was nothing in the lady's condition,before the fatal attack came, to alarm her or anybody about her. She hadher books and her writing materials on an invalid table, which worked ona pivot, and could be arranged in any position most agreeable to her.At times she read and wrote a good deal. At other times she lay quiet,thinking her own thoughts, or talking with me, and with one or two ladyfriends in the neighborhood who came regularly to see her.

  "Her writing, so far as I knew, was almost entirely of the poeticalsort. She was
a great hand at composing poetry. On one occasion only sheshowed me some of her poems. I am no judge of such things. Her poetrywas of the dismal kind, despairing about herself, and wondering why shehad ever been born, and nonsense like that. Her husband came in morethan once for some hard hits at his cruel heart and his ignorance of hiswife's merits. In short, she vented her discontent with her pen as wellas with her tongue. There were times--and pretty often too--when anangel from heaven would have failed to have satisfied Mrs. Macallan.

  "Throughout the period of her illness the deceased lady occupied thesame room--a large bedroom situated (like all the best bedrooms) on thefirst floor of the house.

  "Yes: the plan of the room now shown to me is quite accurately taken,according to my remembrance of it. One door led into the great passage,or corridor, on which all the doors opened. A second door, at one side(marked B on the plan), led to Mr. Macallan's sleeping-room. A thirddoor, on the opposite side (marked C on the plan), communicated witha little study, or book-room, used, as I was told, by Mr. Macallan'smother when she was staying at Gleninch, but seldom or never enteredby any one else. Mr. Macallan's mother was not at Gleninch while I wasthere. The door between the bedroom and this study was locked, and thekey was taken out. I don't know who had the key, or whether therewere more keys than one in existence. The door was never opened tomy knowledge. I only got into the study, to look at it along with thehousekeeper, by entering through a second door that opened on to thecorridor.

  "I beg to say that I can speak from my own knowledge positively aboutMrs. Macallan's illness, and about the sudden change which ended inher death. By the doctor's advice I made notes at the time of dates andhours, and such like. I looked at my notes before coming here.

  "From the 7th of October, when I was first called in to nurse her, tothe 20th of the same month, she slowly but steadily improved in health.Her knee was still painful, no doubt; but the inflammatory look of itwas disappearing. As to the other symptoms, except weakness from lyingin bed, and irritability of temper, there was really nothing the matterwith her. She slept badly, I ought perhaps to add. But we remediedthis by means of composing draughts prescribed for that purpose by thedoctor.

  "On the morning of the 21st, at a few minutes past six, I got my firstalarm that something was going wrong with Mrs. Macallan.

  "I was awoke at the time I have mentioned by the ringing of thehand-bell which she kept on her bed-table. Let me say for myself thatI had only fallen asleep on the sofa in the bedroom at past two in themorning from sheer fatigue. Mrs. Macallan was then awake. She was inone of her bad humors with me. I had tried to prevail on her to let meremove her dressing-case from her bed-table, after she had used it inmaking her toilet for the night. It took up a great deal of room; andshe could not possibly want it again before the morning. But no; sheinsisted on my letting it be. There was a glass inside the case; and,plain as she was, she never wearied of looking at herself in that glass.I saw that she was in a bad state of temper, so I gave her her way, andlet the dressing-case be. Finding that she was too sullen to speak to meafter that, and too obstinate to take her composing draught from mewhen I offered it, I laid me down on the sofa at her bed foot, and fellasleep, as I have said.

  "The moment her bell rang I was up and at the bedside, ready to makemyself useful.

  "I asked what was the matter with her. She complained of faintness anddepression, and said she felt sick. I inquired if she had taken anythingin the way of physic or food while I had been asleep. She answered thather husband had come in about an hour since, and, finding her stillsleepless, had himself administered the composing draught. Mr. Macallan(sleeping in the next room) joined us while she was speaking. He too hadbeen aroused by the bell. He heard what Mrs. Macallan said to me aboutthe composing draught, and made no remark upon it. It seemed to me thathe was alarmed at his wife's faintness. I suggested that she should takea little wine, or brandy and water. She answered that she could swallownothing so strong as wine or brandy, having a burning pain in herstomach already. I put my hand on her stomach--quite lightly. Shescreamed when I touched her.

  "This symptom alarmed us. We went to the village for the medical man whohad attended Mrs. Macallan during her illness: one Mr. Gale.

  "The doctor seemed no better able to account for the change for theworse in his patient than we were. Hearing her complain of thirst, hegave her some milk. Not long after taking it she was sick. The sicknessappeared to relieve her. She soon grew drowsy and slumbered. Mr. Galeleft us, with strict injunctions to send for him instantly if she wastaken ill again.

  "Nothing of the sort happened; no change took place for the next threehours or more. She roused up toward half-past nine and inquired abouther husband. I informed her that he had returned to his own room, andasked if I should send for him. She said 'No.' I asked next if she wouldlike anything to eat or drink. She said 'No' again, in rather a vacant,stupefied way, and then told me to go downstairs and get my breakfast.On my way down I met the housekeeper. She invited me to breakfast withher in her room, instead of in the servants' hall as usual. I remainedwith the housekeeper but a short time--certainly not more than half anhour.

  "Coming upstairs again, I met the under-housemaid sweeping on one of thelandings.

  "The girl informed me that Mrs. Macallan had taken a cup of tea duringmy absence in the housekeeper's room. Mr. Macallan's valet had orderedthe tea for his mistress by his master's directions. The under-housemaidmade it, and took it upstairs herself to Mrs. Macallan's room. Hermaster, she said, opened the door when she knocked, and took the tea-cupfrom her with his own hand. He opened the door widely enough for her tosee into the bedroom, and to notice that nobody was with Mrs. Macallanbut himself.

  "After a little talk with the under-housemaid, I returned to thebedroom. No one was there. Mrs. Macallan was lying perfectly quiet, withher face turned away from me on the pillow. Approaching the bedside, Ikicked against something on the floor. It was a broken tea-cup. I saidto Mrs. Macallan, 'How comes the tea-cup to be broken, ma'am?' Sheanswered, without turning toward me, in an odd, muffled kind of voice,'I dropped it.' 'Before you drank your tea, ma'am?' I asked. 'No,' shesaid; 'in handing the cup back to Mr. Macallan, after I had done.' I hadput my question, wishing to know, in case she had spilled the tea whenshe dropped the cup, whether it would be necessary to get her any more.I am quite sure I remember correctly my question and her answer. Iinquired next if she had been long alone. She said, shortly, 'Yes; Ihave been trying to sleep.' I said, 'Do you feel pretty comfortable?'She answered, 'Yes,' again. All this time she still kept her facesulkily turned from me toward the wall. Stooping over her to arrange thebedclothes, I looked toward her table. The writing materials which werealways kept on it were disturbed, and there was wet ink on one of thepens. I said, 'Surely you haven't been writing, ma'am?' 'Why not?'she said; 'I couldn't sleep.' 'Another poem?' I asked. She laughed toherself--a bitter, short laugh. 'Yes,' she said, 'another poem.' 'That'sgood,' I said; 'it looks as if you were getting quite like yourselfagain. We shan't want the doctor any more to-day.' She made no answerto this, except an impatient sign with her hand. I didn't understand thesign. Upon that she spoke again, and crossly enough, too--'I want to bealone; leave me.'

  "I had no choice but to do as I was told. To the best of my observation,there was nothing the matter with her, and nothing for the nurse todo. I put the bell-rope within reach of her hand, and I went downstairsagain.

  "Half an hour more, as well as I can guess it, passed. I keptwithin hearing of the bell; but it never rang. I was not quite at myease--without exactly knowing why. That odd, muffled voice in which shehad spoken to me hung on my mind, as it were. I was not quite satisfiedabout leaving her alone for too long a time together--and then, again,I was unwilling to risk throwing her into one of her fits of passionby going back before she rang for me. It ended in my venturing intothe room on the ground-floor called the Morning-Room, to consult Mr.Macallan. He was usually to be found there in the forenoon of the day.

  "On th
is occasion, however, when I looked into the Morning-Room it wasempty.

  "At the same moment I heard the master's voice on the terrace outside.I went out, and found him speaking to one Mr. Dexter, an old friend ofhis, and (like Mrs. Beauly) a guest staying in the house. Mr. Dexter wassitting at the window of his room upstairs (he was a cripple, and couldonly move himself about in a chair on wheels), and Mr. Macallan wasspeaking to him from the terrace below.

  "'Dexter!' I heard Mr. Macallan say. 'Where is Mrs. Beauly? Have youseen anything of her?'

  "Mr. Dexter answered, in his quick, off-hand way of speaking, 'Not I. Iknow nothing about her.'

  "Then I advanced, and, begging pardon for intruding, I mentioned to Mr.Macallan the difficulty I was in about going back or not to his wife'sroom without waiting until she rang for me. Before he could advise mein the matter, the footman made his appearance and informed me that Mrs.Macallan's bell was then ringing--and ringing violently.

  "It was then close on eleven o'clock. As fast as I could mount thestairs I hastened back to the bedroom.

  "Before I opened the door I heard Mrs. Macallan groaning. She was indreadful pain; feeling a burning heat in the stomach and in the throat,together with the same sickness which had troubled her in the earlymorning. Though no doctor, I could see in her face that this secondattack was of a far more serious nature than the first. After ringingthe bell for a messenger to send to Mr. Macallan, I ran to the door tosee if any of the servants happened to be within call.

  "The only person I saw in the corridor was Mrs. Beauly. She was onher way from her own room, she said, to inquire after Mrs. Macallan'shealth. I said to her, 'Mrs. Macallan is seriously ill again, ma'am.Would you please tell Mr. Macallan, and send for the doctor?' She randownstairs at once to do as I told her.

  "I had not been long back at the bedside when Mr. Macallan and Mrs.Beauly both came in together. Mrs. Macallan cast a strange look on them(a look I cannot at all describe), and bade them leave her. Mrs.Beauly, looking very much frightened, withdrew immediately. Mr. Macallanadvanced a step or two nearer to the bed. His wife looked at him againin the same strange way, and cried out--half as if she was threateninghim, half as if she was entreating him--'Leave me with the nurse. Go!'He only waited to say to me in a whisper, 'The doctor is sent for,' andthen he left the room.

  "Before Mr. Gale arrived Mrs. Macallan was violently sick. What camefrom her was muddy and frothy, and faintly streaked with blood. When Mr.Gale saw it he looked very serious. I heard him say to himself, 'Whatdoes this mean?' He did his best to relieve Mrs. Macallan, but with nogood result that I could see. After a time she seemed to suffer less.Then more sickness came on. Then there was another intermission. Whethershe was suffering or not, I observed that her hands and feet (wheneverI touched them) remained equally cold. Also, the doctor's report of herpulse was always the same--'very small and feeble.' I said to Mr. Gale,'What is to be done, sir?' And Mr. Gale said to me, 'I won't takethe responsibility on myself any longer; I must have a physician fromEdinburgh.'

  "The fastest horse in the stables at Gleninch was put into a dog-cart,and the coachman drove away full speed to Edinburgh to fetch the famousDoctor Jerome.

  "While we were waiting for the physician, Mr. Macallan came into hiswife's room with Mr. Gale. Exhausted as she was, she instantly liftedher hand and signed to him to leave her. He tried by soothing words topersuade her to let him stay. No! She still insisted on sending him outof her room. He seemed to feel it--at such a time, and in the presenceof the doctor. Before she was aware of him, he suddenly stepped up tothe bedside and kissed her on the forehead. She shrank from him with ascream. Mr. Gale interfered, and led him out of the room.

  "In the afternoon Doctor Jerome arrived.

  "The great physician came just in time to see her seized with anotherattack of sickness. He watched her attentively, without speaking a word.In the interval when the sickness stopped, he still studied her, as itwere, in perfect silence. I thought he would never have done examiningher. When he was at last satisfied, he told me to leave him alone withMr. Gale. 'We will ring,' he said, 'when we want you here again.'

  "It was a long time before they rang for me. The coachman was sentfor before I was summoned back to the bedroom. He was dispatched toEdinburgh for the second time, with a written message from Dr. Jerometo his head servant, saying that there was no chance of his returning tothe city and to his patients for some hours to come. Some of us thoughtthis looked badly for Mrs. Macallan. Others said it might mean that thedoctor had hopes of saving her, but expected to be a long time in doingit.

  "At last I was sent for. On my presenting myself in the bedroom, DoctorJerome went out to speak to Mr. Macallan, leaving Mr. Gale along withme. From that time as long as the poor lady lived I was never left alonewith her. One of the two doctors was always in her room. Refreshmentswere prepared for them; but still they took it in turns to eat theirmeal, one relieving the other at the bedside. If they had administeredremedies to their patient, I should not have been surprised by thisproceeding. But they were at the end of their remedies; their onlybusiness the seemed to be to keep watch. I was puzzled to account forthis. Keeping watch was the nurse's business. I thought the conduct ofthe doctors very strange.

  "By the time that the lamp was lighted in the sick-room I could seethat the end was near. Excepting an occasional feeling of cramp in herlegs, she seemed to suffer less. But her eyes looked sunk in her head;her skin was cold and clammy; her lips had turned to a bluish paleness.Nothing roused her now--excepting the last attempt made by herhusband to see her. He came in with Doctor Jerome, looking like a manterror-struck. She was past speaking; but the moment she saw him shefeebly made signs and sounds which showed that she was just as resolvedas ever not to let him come near her. He was so overwhelmed that Mr.Gale was obliged to help him out of the room. No other person wasallowed to see the patient. Mr. Dexter and Mrs. Beauly made theirinquiries outside the door, and were not invited in. As the evening drewon the doctors sat on either side of the bed, silently watching her,silently waiting for her death.

  "Toward eight o'clock she seemed to have lost the use of her hands andarms: they lay helpless outside the bed-clothes. A little later shesank into a sort of dull sleep. Little by little the sound of her heavybreathing grew fainter. At twenty minutes past nine Doctor Jerome toldme to bring the lamp to the bedside. He looked at her, and put his handon her heart. Then he said to me, 'You can go downstairs, nurse: it isall over.' He turned to Mr. Gale. 'Will you inquire if Mr. Macallan cansee us?' he said. I opened the door for Mr. Gale, and followed him out.Doctor Jerome called me back for a moment, and told me to give himthe key of the door. I did so, of course; but I thought this also verystrange. When I got down to the servants' hall I found there was ageneral feeling that something was wrong. We were all uneasy--withoutknowing why.

  "A little later the two doctors left the house. Mr. Macallan had beenquite incapable of receiving them and hearing what they had to say.In this difficulty they had spoken privately with Mr. Dexter, as Mr.Macallan's old friend, and the only gentleman then staying at Gleninch.

  "Before bed-time I went upstairs to prepare the remains of the deceasedlady for the coffin. The room in which she lay was locked, the doorleading into Mr. Macallan's room being secured, as well as the doorleading into the corridor. The keys had been taken away by Mr. Gale. Twoof the men-servants were posted outside the bedroom to keep watch. Theywere to be relieved at four in the morning--that was all they could tellme.

  "In the absence of any explanations or directions, I took the liberty ofknocking at the door of Mr. Dexter's room. From his lips I first heardthe startling news. Both the doctors had refused to give the usualcertificate of death! There was to be a medical examination of the bodythe next morning."

  There the examination of the nurse, Christina Ormsay, came to an end.

  Ignorant as I was of the law, I could see what impression the evidence(so far) was intended to produce on the minds of the jury. After firstshowing that my h
usband had had two opportunities of administering thepoison--once in the medicine and once in the tea--the counsel forthe Crown led the jury to infer that the prisoner had taken thoseopportunities to rid himself of an ugly and jealous wife, whosedetestable temper he could no longer endure.

  Having directed his examination to the attainment of this object, theLord Advocate had done with the witness. The Dean of Faculty--acting inthe prisoner's interests--then rose to bring out the favorable side ofthe wife's character by cross-examining the nurse. If he succeeded inthis attempt, the jury might reconsider their conclusion that the wifewas a person who had exasperated her husband beyond endurance. In thatcase, where (so far) was the husband's motive for poisoning her? andwhere was the presumption of the prisoner's guilt?

  Pressed by this skillful lawyer, the nurse was obliged to exhibit myhusband's first wife under an entirely new aspect. Here is the substanceof what the Dean of Faculty extracted from Christina Ormsay:

  "I persist in declaring that Mrs. Macallan had a most violent temper.But she was certainly in the habit of making amends for the offense thatshe gave by her violence. When she was quiet again she always made herexcuses to me, and she made them with a good grace. Her manners wereengaging at such times as these. She spoke and acted like a well-bredlady. Then, again, as to her personal appearance. Plain as she was inface, she had a good figure; her hands and feet, I was told, had beenmodeled by a sculptor. She had a very pleasant voice, and she wasreported when in health to sing beautifully. She was also (if her maid'saccount was to be trusted) a pattern in the matter of dressing for theother ladies in the neighborhood. Then, as to Mrs. Beauly, though shewas certainly jealous of the beautiful young widow, she had shown atthe same time that she was capable of controlling that feeling. It wasthrough Mrs. Macallan that Mrs. Beauly was in the house. Mrs. Beauly hadwished to postpone her visit on account of the state of Mrs. Macallan'shealth. It was Mrs. Macallan herself--not her husband--who decided thatMrs. Beauly should not be disappointed, and should pay her visit toGleninch then and there. Further, Mrs. Macallan (in spite of her temper)was popular with her friends and popular with her servants. There washardly a dry eye in the house when it was known she was dying. And,further still, in those little domestic disagreements at which the nursehad been present, Mr. Macallan had never lost his temper, and had neverused harsh language: he seemed to be more sorry than angry when thequarrels took place."--Moral for the jury: Was this the sort of womanwho would exasperate a man into poisoning her? And was this the sort ofman who would be capable of poisoning his wife?

  Having produced this salutary counter-impression, the Dean of Facultysat down; and the medical witnesses were called next.

  Here the evidence was simply irresistible.

  Dr. Jerome and Mr. Gale positively swore that the symptoms of theillness were the symptoms of poisoning by arsenic. The surgeon who hadperformed the post-mortem examination followed. He positively swore thatthe appearance of the internal organs proved Doctor Jerome and Mr. Galeto be right in declaring that their patient had died poisoned. Lastly,to complete this overwhelming testimony, two analytical chemistsactually produced in Court the arsenic which they had found in the body,in a quantity admittedly sufficient to have killed two persons insteadof one. In the face of such evidence as this, cross-examination was amere form. The first Question raised by the Trial--Did the Woman DiePoisoned?--was answered in the affirmative, and answered beyond thepossibility of doubt.

  The next witnesses called were witnesses concerned with the questionthat now followed--the obscure and terrible question, Who Poisoned Her?