Half A Chance

by Frederic Stewart Isham

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER I

  THE WHEELS OF JUSTICE

  London, in the spring! Sunshine; the Thames agleam with silver ripples,singing as it flows; red sails! Joyous London that has emerged from fogsand basks beneath blue skies! Thoroughfares that give forth a glad hum;wheels singing, too; whips that crack in sprightly arpeggios. On thestreets, people, not shadows, who walk with a swing; who really seem tobreathe and not slink uncannily by! Eyes that regard you with humanexpression; faces that seem capable of emotion; figures adorned inkeeping with the bright realities of the moment. London; old Londonyoung again; grimy, repulsive London now bright, shimmering, beautiful!

  In such a London, on such a day, about ten o'clock in the morning, threepersons whose appearance distinguished them from the ordinarypassers-by, turned into a narrow thoroughfare not far from the Strand.

  "Quite worth while going to hear John Steele conduct for his client, Iassure you!" observed one, a tall, military-looking man, who walked witha slight limp and carried a cane. "He's a new man, but he's making hismark. When he asked to be admitted to the English bar, he surprised evenhis examiners. His summing-up in the Doughertie murder case was, I heardhis lordship remark, one of the most masterly efforts he ever listenedto. Just tore the circumstantial evidence to pieces and freed his man!Besides his profession at the bar, he is an unusually giftedcriminologist; takes a strong personal interest in the lowest riffraff;is writing a book, I understand--one of the kind that will throw a newlight on the subject."

  "Just what is a criminologist?" The speaker, a girl of about eighteen,turned as she lightly asked the question, to glance over her shouldertoward several persons who followed them.

  "One who seeks to apply to the criminal the methods of psychology,psychiatry and anthropology," he answered with jesting impressiveness.

  She laughed. "But you said this Mr. Steele comes from our part of theworld, did you not, Captain Forsythe?"

  "So I understand, Miss Jocelyn. Not much of a person to talk abouthimself, don't you know,"--tentatively stroking an imposing pair ofmustaches, tinged with gray,--"but he has mentioned, I believe, livingin New Zealand; or was it Australia?"

  "Australia?" the cold, metallic tones of the third person, a man ofabout three-and-thirty, inquired. "Most likely the other place, or weshould have heard--"

  "True, Lord Ronsdale!" said the other man, pausing before a great door."But here we are."

  "'All ye who enter, etc'" laughed the girl.

  "Not if one comes just to 'do' it, you know," was the protesting answer."Quite the thing to take in the criminal courts!"

  "When one is only a sort of country cousin, a colonial, just come totown!" she added, waving a small, daintily-gloved hand to the littlegroup of friends who now approached and joined them. "Captain Forsytheis trying to persuade me it is a legitimate part of our slumming plan totake in murder trials, uncle," she said lightly, addressing the foremostof the new-comers. "Just because it's a fad of his! Speaking of thisacquaintance or friend of yours, Mr. Steele,--you are something of acriminologist, too, are you not, Captain Forsythe?"

  "Well, every man should have a hobby," returned that individual, "and,although I don't aspire to the long name you call me, I confess to aslight amateur interest."

  Lord Ronsdale shrugged his shoulders, as to say, every one to his taste;but the girl laughed.

  "Slight?" she repeated. "Would you believe it, aunt"--to a portly ladyamong those who had approached--"he never misses a murder trial! Ibelieve he likes to watch the poor fellows fighting for their lives, tostudy their faces, their expressions when they're being sentenced,perhaps, to one of those horrible convict ships!"

  "Don't speak of them, my dear Jocelyn!" returned that worthy person,with a shudder. "When I think of the _Lord Nelson_, and that awfulnight--"

  "You were three days in an open boat before being sighted and picked up,I believe, Lady Wray?" observed Captain Forsythe.

  "Three days? Years!" returned the governor's wife. "At least, theyseemed so to me! I thought every moment would be our last and goodnessknows why it wasn't! How we managed to survive it--"

  "Narrow squeak, certainly!" said Lord Ronsdale, his lids loweringslightly. "But all's well that ends well, and--"

  "Every one behaved splendidly," interposed Sir Charles. "You," gazingcontemplatively at the girl, "were but a child then, Jocelyn."

  She did not answer; the beautiful face had abruptly changed; alllaughter had gone from the clear blue eyes.

  "She is thinking of the convict who saved her!" observed Sir Charles inan explanatory tone to Captain Forsythe. "Quite an interesting episode,'pon honor! Tell you about it later. Never saw anything finer, orbetter. And the amazing part of it is, the fellow looked like a brute,had the low, ignorant face of an ex-bruiser. He'd gone to the bad, takento drink, and committed I don't know how many crimes! Yet that man, thelowest of the low--"

  "You must not speak of him that way!" The girl's hands were clasped; theslender, shapely figure was very straight. Her beautiful blue eyes, fullof varying lights, flashed, then became dimmed; a suspicion of mistblurred the long, sweeping lashes. "He had a big, noble spark in hissoul. And I think of him many, many times!" she repeated, the sweet, gaylips trembling sensitively. "Brave fellow! Brave fellow!" The words fellin a whisper.

  "Fortunate fellow, I should say, to be so remembered by you, MissJocelyn!" interposed Captain Forsythe. "Eh, Ronsdale?"

  "Fortunate, indeed!" the thin lips replied stiffly.

  "Pity he should have been drowned though!" Captain Forsythe went on. "Hewould, I am sure, have made a most interesting study in contrasts!"

  She, however, seemed not to hear either compliment--or comment, butstood for a moment as in a reverie. "I am almost sorry I was persuadedto come here to-day," she said at length, thoughtfully. "I don't believeI shall like courts, or," she added, "find them amusing!"

  "Nonsense!" Sir Charles laughed. "I have heard his lordship has a prettysense of humor, and never fails, when opportunity offers, to indulgeit."

  "Even when sentencing people?"

  "Well; there is no need of turning the proceedings into a funeral."

  "I don't believe I should laugh at his wit," said the girl. "And is thisMr. John Steele witty, too?"

  "Oh, no! Anything irrelevant from any one else wouldn't be allowed byhis lordship."

  Here Ronsdale lifted his hat. "May happen back this way," he observed."That is," looking at Jocelyn Wray, "if you don't object?"

  "I? Not at all! Of course, it would bore you--a trial! You are so easilybored. Is it the club?"

  "No; another engagement. Thank you so much for permission to return foryou--very kind. Hope you will find it amusing. Good morning!" And LordRonsdale vanished down the narrow way.

  The others of the party entered the court room and were shown to theseats that Captain Forsythe had taken particular pains to reserve forthem. The case, evidently an interesting one to judge from the number ofpeople present, was in progress as they quietly settled down in theirchairs at the back. From the vantage point of a slight eminence theyfound themselves afforded an excellent and unimpaired view of hislordship, the jury, prisoner, witness and barristers. Presumably thecase had reached an acute stage, for even the judge appeared slightlymindful of what was going on, and allowed his glance to stray toward thewitness. The latter, a little man, in cheap attire flashily debonnaireif the worse for long service, seemed to experience difficulty inspeaking, to hesitate before his words, and, when he did answer, tobetray in his tone no great amount of confidence. He looked weary andsomewhat crestfallen, as if his will were being broken down, orsubjected to a severe strain, the truth being ground out of him by someirresistible process.

  "That's John Steele cross-examining now!" Captain Forsythe whispered tothe girl. "And that's Dandy Joe, as he's called, one of the policespies, cheap race-track man and so on, in the box. He came to the frontin a murder trial quite celebrated in its day, and one I always had myown little theory about. N
ot that it matters now!" he added with a sigh.

  But the girl was listening to another voice, a clear voice, a quietvoice, a voice capable of the strongest varying accents. She looked atthe speaker; he held himself with the assurance of one certain of hisground. His shoulders were straight and broad; he stood like an athlete,and, when he moved, it was impossible to be unconscious of a certainphysical grace that came from well-trained muscles. He carried his headhigh, as if from a habit of thought, of looking up, not down, when heturned from the pages of the heavy tomes in his study; his face conveyedan impression of intelligence and intensity; his eyes, dark, deep,searched fully those they rested on.

  He had reached a point in his cross-examination where he had almostthoroughly discredited this witness for the prosecution, when turningtoward a table to take up a paper, his glance, casually lifting, restedon the distinguished party in the rear of the room, or rather it restedon one of them. Against the dark background, the girl's golden hair waswell-calculated to catch the wandering gaze; the flowers in her hat, thegreat bunch of violets in her dress added insistent alluring bits ofcolor in the dim spot where she sat. Erect as a lily stem, she lookedoddly out of place in that large, somber room; there, where the harshrequiem of bruised and broken lives unceasingly sounded, she seemed likesome presence typical of spring, wafted thither by mistake. The mancontinued to regard her. Suddenly he started, and his eyes almosteagerly searched the lovely, proud face.

  His back was turned to the judge, who stirred nervously, but waited afraction of a second before he spoke.

  "If the cross-examination is finished--" he began.

  John Steele wheeled; his face changed; a smile of singular charmaccompanied his answer.

  "Your lordship will pardon me; the human mind has its aberrations. Atthe moment, by a curious psychological turn, a feature of anotherproblem seized me; it was like playing two games of chess at once.Perhaps your honor has experienced the sensation?"

  His lordship beamed. "Quite so," he observed unctuously. "I have toconfess that once in a great while, although following a case veryclosely, I have found it possible to consider at the same time whether Iwould later have port or sherry with my canvasback."

  Of course every one smiled; the business of the morning ran on, and JohnSteele, at length, concluded his cross-examination. "I think, yourLordship, the question of the reliability of this man, as a witness, inthis, or--any other case--fully established."

  "Any other case?" said his lordship. "We are not trying any other case."

  "Not now, your Lordship." John Steele bowed. "I ask your lordship'sindulgence for the"--an instant's ironical light gleamed from the darkeyes--"superfluity."

  "Witness may go," said his lordship bruskly.

  Dandy Joe, a good deal damaged in the world's estimation, stepped down;his erstwhile well-curled mustache of brick-dust hue seemed to droop ashe slunk out of the box; he appeared subdued, almost frightened,--quiteunlike the jaunty little cockney that had stepped so blithely forth togive his testimony.

  The witnesses all heard, John Steele, for the defense, spoke briefly;but his words were well-chosen, his sentences of classic purity. As thegirl listened, it seemed to her not strange that Captain Forsythe, aswell as others, perhaps, should be drawn hither on occasions when thisman appeared. Straight, direct logic characterized the speech frombeginning to end; only once did a suggestion of sentiment--curt pity forthat gin-besotted thing, the prisoner!--obtrude itself; then it passedso quickly his lordship forgot to intervene, and the effect remained, aflash, illuminating, Rembrandt-like!

  Time slipped by; the judge looked at his watch, bethought him of a bigsilver dish filled with an amber-hued specialty of the Ship and Turtle,and adjourned court. His address interrupted by the exigencies of themoment, John Steele began mechanically to gather up his books; his facethat had been marked by the set look of one determined to drive on athis best with a task, now wore a preoccupied expression. The prisonerwhined a question; Steele did not answer, and some one bustled the manout. Having brought his volumes together in a little pile, Steeleabsently separated them again; at the same time Sir Charles and hisparty walked toward the bench. They were met by his lordship andcordially greeted.

  "A privilege, Sir Charles, to meet one we have heard of so often, in theantipodes."

  "Thank you. His lordship, Judge Beeson, m'dear, whose decisions--"

  "Allow me to congratulate you, sir!" The enthusiastic voice was that ofCaptain Forsythe, addressing John Steele. "Your cross-examination wasmasterly; had you been in a certain other case, years ago, when theevidence of that very person on the stand to-day--in the main--convicteda man of murder, I fancy the result then would have been different!"

  John Steele seemed not to hear; his eyes were turned toward thebeautiful girl. She was standing quite close to him now; he could detectthe fragrance of the violets she wore, a fresh sweet smell so welcome inthat close, musty atmosphere.

  "My niece, your Lordship, Miss Wray."

  Steele saw her bow and heard her speak to that august court personage;then as the latter, after further brief talk, hurried away--

  "Sir Charles, let me present to you Mr. Steele," said Captain Forsythe."Lady Wray--"

  "Happy to know you, sir," said the governor heartily.

  "Miss Jocelyn Wray," added the military man, "who," with a laugh,"experienced some doubts about a visit of this kind being conducive topleasure!"

  John Steele took the small gloved hand she gave him; her eyes were verybright.

  "I enjoyed--I don't mean that--I am so glad I came," said the girl. "Andheard you!" she added.

  He thanked her in a low tone, looking at her hand as he dropped it."You,--you are making England your home?" His voice was singularlyhesitating!

  "Yes." She looked at him a little surprised. "At least, for the present!But how--" she broke off. "I suppose, though, you could tell by myaccent. I've lived nearly all my life in Australia, and--"

  Sir Charles, interrupting, reminded them of an appointment; the partyturned. A slender figure inclined itself very slightly toward JohnSteele; a voice wished him good morning. The man stood with his hands onhis books; it did not occur to him to accompany her to the door.Suddenly he looked over his shoulder; at the threshold, she, too, hadturned her head. An instant their glances met; the next, she was gone.

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