by Tom Gallon
CHAPTER XVI
WHO KILLED THIS WOMAN?
Bamberton was taking grim holiday. Bamberton the sleepy—with nothingto stir it, from one dreary year’s end to the other, treading its dullrespectable round, knowing exactly who married who, and how John This,or James That, got on with their respective wives, with the certaintyof the dull little clock in the Chater Arms—had suddenly awakened tofind itself notorious, and its name in big print in the great Londonpapers. Moreover, had not Bamberton, the newly-awakened, already hadpictures of its High Street (with an impossible man, in a smock-frock,leaning on a species of clothes-prop, in the foreground) in theillustrated and evening journals? Had not Bamberton already beenphotographed, interviewed, stared at, and made public in a hundreddifferent ways. Now, too, had come the day of the inquest; andimpossible rumours were already in the air, concerning that sameinquest, and the marvellous things which were to be said and donethereat. Scarcely to be wondered at therefore, is it, that Bambertonshould be taking grim holiday, and should be flocking to the placewhere twelve lucky members of its male community had been summoned togive judgment, concerning the doing to death of poor Patience Miller.
At a period long since forgotten, some charitable inhabitant, or otherperson interested in the welfare of the male and female youth ofBamberton, had had dreams of an Institute; and, with that laudabledesign in view, had pounced upon the only unoccupied spacious buildingin the locality, and had endeavoured to transform it into a Hall ofsemi-dazzling Light. The attempt had been a failure; and thebuilding—which was no other than the old Mill, which stood on theoutskirts of the wood—had long since fallen into greater decay thanbefore.
But this place had again come before the public notice, by reason ofthe fact that the body of the murdered girl had been carried there,after its discovery; and at that place the inquest was to be held. Thebody had been put in an upper room—a species of loft; the inquest wasto be held in the great room of the Mill, where certain iron rings androtting ropes—part of an abortive attempt at a gymnasium—hungsuggestively from the ceiling. And thither all Bamberton bent its steps.
“Whisperings, and murmurings, and the shuffling of many feet—with someglances towards the ceiling, as though curious eyes would piercethrough, and see the ghastly thing laid above. At present, only agrave-faced country constable or two, setting chairs in order for thetwelve lucky men, the Coroner, and the witnesses; and exercising alittle brief authority, in keeping back certain Bambertonites who werepressing forward beyond the limits assigned for the general public.Once or twice, the door of a smaller room opened, and animportant-looking little man, with a hard face and a tuft of hair onhis chin, came bustling out, with a little sheaf of papers in his hand,to whisper to one or other of the constables. The door of that roomproved to be a keen source of attraction to many eyes; for it waswhispered that the prisoner waited within.”
After what seemed an interminable length of time, a little gentleman,in a black frock-coat, thrust his way with some impatience through thegeneral public, and made his way to one end of the table set apart inthe cleared space. A murmur ran round that this was the Coroner, fromthe neighbouring county-town; murmurs, also, that he did not quite lookthe part, inasmuch as that he wore an air of cheerfulness, which seemedalmost to suggest that he was about to preside at a wedding, ratherthan at anything so formidable as an inquest.
A little glancing at his watch by this gentleman; an expostulatorywhisper or two on his part to the constables in attendance, and thedoor of the inner room opened again, and Inspector Tokely came bustlingout. One constable—a stranger to Bamberton, and of more importance onthat account, produced a list, from which, with a strong provincialaccent, he proceeded to call out certain names. Then, more shuffling offeet, and some friendly pushing of bashful jurymen forward, and thetwelve ranged themselves sheepishly, with much coughing, round thetable, and were duly sworn.
“Be seated, gentlemen, I beg,” said the Coroner, busy with his papers.“Stop one moment, though”—glancing up quickly—“have you viewed thebody?”
Several of the jurymen present expressed a decided disinclination to doanything of the kind; and it became apparent that that importantceremony had not been performed.
“Really, Moody,” exclaimed the Coroner—“this is most remiss on yourpart. This should have been done first of all. We are wastingtime—valuable time.”
The repentant Mr. Moody—the strange constable—made some attempt at anapology, and concluded by hurrying the jurymen through another door,where they were heard to go heavily up wooden stairs, and to trampabout a little overhead. In the meantime, the Coroner had a word or twowith Inspector Tokely, and glanced once or twice, with a nod, towardsthe door where the prisoner was supposed to be.
The jurymen coming down again—some of them rather white-faced andwide-eyed—the Coroner abruptly motioned them to their seats, andturned to Tokely as he took his own.
“Inspector, I think we may have Mr. Chater in here now.”
The general public seemed to stir and sway, as though bent by a suddenwind; bending towards each other, and whispering hoarsely, yet keepingtheir eyes with one accord turned towards that door. Inspector Tokelyhurried out, and came back in another moment, glancing over hisshoulder through the doorway; immediately following him came PhilipChater, with two constables in close attendance. He looked round for amoment at the murmuring crowd; seemed to seek one face in it, and tosmile as he recognised it. At the same moment, a woman in the crowdburst into violent weeping.
The Coroner rapped the table impatiently with his knuckles. “Anydemonstration on the part of any member of the public will necessitatemy clearing the room at once,” he said, looking sternly about him.
One of the jurymen—no other than old Toby Siggs—rose ponderously inhis place. “Askin’ yer pardon, Mister,” he said, slowly—“I ratherthink as ’ow that was my ole gel.” Then, before the astonished Coronercould interpolate a remark, Toby turned abruptly, and addressed hisspouse. “’Earty is it, ole gel,” he said, in a voice like muffledthunder, for her special hearing—“we’ll git ’im off, afore you’d ’avetime to draw ’arf a pint. Bear in mind, ole gel, as ’ow I’ve got avote.”
“My good sir,” interposed the Coroner, hurriedly,—“let me impress uponyou that this business must be tried judicially and fairly—with nobias. Understand that clearly.”
Toby nodded his head with much gravity. “Sich are my intentions,Mister,” he said. “So fire away as ’ard as you like. An’ Gawd ’elp thewinner!” With which pious exclamation, Toby Siggs sat down perfectlysatisfied with himself.
And now the Coroner—in a quick, bustling fashion, as though he were ina hurry, and should be glad to get so unimportant a matter off hishands—began to inform the jury of what their clear duty was, and howrapidly they might set about it. The body of this young girl,gentlemen, had been found in the adjacent wood. She was stabbed verynear a vital part, and had undoubtedly, under considerable pain, andfor a period perhaps of half-an-hour, slowly bled to death. They wouldbe told—by the medical gentleman then present—who had made a mostcareful post-mortem examination of the body—that the wound could nothave been self-inflicted. Such being the case, gentlemen, it devolvedupon them to discover in what fashion her death had been caused; andhere he would remind them that they must be guided entirely bycircumstantial evidence. A man—a gentleman of good position—appearedbefore them that day, in a most unenviable situation. It was not forhim, gentlemen, to tell them of their duty, or to lead them to imaginethat any guilt attached to the man they saw before them; all that theymust judge for themselves. But they would be confronted withwitnesses—most unwilling witnesses—who would tell them of theintimacy which had undoubtedly existed between this man and themurdered girl; they would be told, gentlemen, by a witness from therailway station, of the appearance of this man, in a great state ofexcitement and hurry, at the station, in time—barely in time,gentlemen, to catch the las
t train to London. This, too, on the verynight of the murder, and within a very short time of the hour at which,according to the medical testimony they would hear, this unfortunateyoung woman must have been struck down.
Here the Coroner stopped to clear his throat, and to glance at PhilipChater—as though to assure that unfortunate man that he was quiteprepared to put a rope round his neck within the next few minutes, andhad already got it half spun.
The gentlemen of the jury, who surely knew their duties, would be toldhow this man, deserting his home, had fled to London; how he had comeback, in the dead of night, and had been seen about the village; how amost intelligent officer—a gentleman from Scotland Yard,gentlemen—had endeavoured to capture him; how he had again fled toLondon. They would be told, by a former associate of this man—now veryrepentant of his connection with him—of a sort of semi-confession madeby this man to him. More than all, they would hear that a spade hadbeen discovered near the body, which had evidently been used in ahurried attempt to dig a grave for the murdered girl (the crowd swayedagain, like an angry sea and one woman shrieked out somethingunintelligible against the man who stood so calmly through it all)—andthat spade would be traced as having come from the residence of the mannow before them. While admitting, gentlemen, that all this evidence waspurely circumstantial, the Coroner must beg them not to cast it lightlyaside on that account, but to hear the witnesses with patience. And sosat down, having spun his rope to a tolerable length and strength.
Marshalled by Tokely, the first witnesses were already shuffling totheir places, when an interruption came from among the crowd; and ayoung man thrust himself forward, and made straight for the Coroner. Hewas a bright-faced fellow, with a cool and gentlemanly bearing, and hegave a quick nod to Philip as he pressed forward.
“One moment, Mr. Coroner,” he said. “Mr. Chater here is an old friendof mine—knew him at Oxford. I’m a barrister; and I claim the right torepresent Mr. Chater at these proceedings. I should like to point outto you, Mr. Coroner”—still with the same engaging frankness, and thesame cheery smile—“that my friend is placed in a very awkwardposition, and has against him, in charge of the case, a very ablerepresentative of the law”—a bow here for the gratifiedInspector—“from Scotland Yard. I merely propose to watch the case onbehalf of my friend, and to put such questions as I may deem necessary,and as you, Mr. Coroner, may see fit, in the exercise of a wisediscretion, to allow.” Here the young gentleman bowed all round again,with another cheery smile, and sat down near the Coroner, after havingmade a decidedly good impression.
Philip Chater broke the silence which seemed to hang so heavily abouthim, and addressed the Coroner. “I am greatly obliged,” he said, “formy friend’s kindly offer; but I would rather decline it. Whatever casethere is against me must go on its merits; I desire nothing more.”
Before the Coroner, or any one else, could speak, the younggentleman came darting out of his chair, and had Philip by thebutton-hole—drawing him aside a little, and impressing his pointsupon him in an eager whisper.
“Now, my dear boy,” he said, with the same frankness asbefore—“don’t you be foolish. Frankly—I believe you to be innocent;but these beggars don’t—and you’ll get yourself into a devil of ahole, and give yourself away most gloriously, if you try to conductthe case yourself. This chap from Scotland Yard is an ass—but he’svindictive; the Coroner is in a hurry, and is dead against you. Onthe other hand—have the goodness to consider my position. This is myfirst chance—absolutely my first. I’ve read up the case, day by day,and I know it by heart; I may do you a lot of good—and I shall makemy own fortune. To-morrow morning in all the newspapers—AndrewBanks—rising young barrister—badgered the Coroner—turned thewitnesses inside out—played Old Harry with the police; don’t yousee? Now—all you have to do is to sit quiet, and look virtuous; I’lllay out Mr. Coroner, for the benefit of the yokels, in a brace ofshakes.”
He was gone again, back to his place at the table, before Philip Chaterhad even time to thank him, or to remonstrate further; and the realbusiness of the inquest began. In the first place, appeared the twocountrymen who had found the body; and who contradicted each other inminor points of detail, and were hopelessly confused by that risingyoung barrister Mr. Andrew Banks—so much so, that, at the end of fiveminutes, they were half disposed to believe that the one had committedthe murder, and the other made an attempt to hide the body. And so satdown, greatly confused.
Next came Betty Siggs—making a deeper impression than she wouldwillingly have done against the man who stood watching her. For, aftera question or two, old Betty turned suddenly to that quiet figure, andstretched out her hands, and appealed to him, in a voice shaken by sobs.
“For God’s sake—let me speak; let me tell what I know,” she said; and,though she spoke in a whisper, the silence about her was so deep andsolemn that the lightest breath of that whisper was heard. “For thesake of the old days—let me say what you and I alone know—let me—mydear—my dear!”
Unfortunately, it had the very opposite effect to that which Bettyintended; for there seemed to be at once established between these twosome terrible affinity in the crime, which made it more horrible. Nordid the young barrister improve matters; for, wholly at a loss tounderstand to what she referred he began to urge her to tell all sheknew—even to threaten her with dire penalties, in the event ofnon-compliance.
But that only made matters worse; she cast one swift look in thedirection of Philip, and read in his face that she must be silent;turned on the young and ardent man of law—and defied him.
“Don’t you think, young man—as you’re agoin’ to open my mouth—becauseyou ain’t. I loved this poor young gel, as though she’d been a child o’my own; but I swear to you, before God, that the man who stands thereknew nothing of it, and is absolutely innocent. Toby—my angel—votefor ’im—if you love me!”
Toby answered with a responsive growl, and Mrs. Siggs sat down. Norwould the pleadings of the Coroner—the threats of Tokely—or thesuavity of the young barrister move her; she read in the face fromwhich she took her inspiration that she must be silent—and the rackitself would not have moved her.
Came the medical man, who gave his evidence grimly enough, in technicalterms which yet sent a shudder through the listening crowd. He hadexamined the body, and, in answer to a question from the Coroner, gaveit as his opinion—and with certainty—that the unfortunate girl, atthe time of her death was near the period when she would have givenbirth to a child; struck a more deadly blow at the prisoner, bydescribing, in callous medical phraseology, the wound which had beeninflicted, and the lingering death which followed. At the end of thatevidence, there was not a man nor woman in the place that would nothave shrieked “Murderer!” at him, whatever the verdict of the jurymight be.
Some little sensation was created by the appearance of Harry Routley,the young servant of Dandy Chater; who—tackled by the Inspector, andkeeping his eyes resolutely turned from the man whose life he wasswearing away, gave his evidence in little more than monosyllables; butgave it in damning quality enough, even at that. Some greatersensation, too, was caused, by his turning swiftly to the prisoner, inthe midst of the questions of the Inspector, and holding out his handsto Philip in an agony of appeal; and then covering his face with them.
“Master Dandy—Master Dandy!” he cried—“I swore to you that I wouldkeep the secret—I have broken my word! Master Dandy—I was mad—besidemyself—Master Dandy—forgive me!”
It created, if that were possible, a worse impression than ever. In themidst of the murmurs which surged up about them, the quiet voice ofPhilip was heard.
“It’s all right, Harry; you’ve only done the right thing. The time willcome when you will understand better what I mean—when you will have nocause for regret. You need have none now; you have been more loyal andtrue to me than I deserved; I say it openly, before all here.”
Came Inspector Tokely himself, demanding that this man be sent fortrial; pointing
out this man’s desperate attempts to escape; hispartial success; and so introducing the last witness—the Shady ’un.
The Shady ’un—giving his name, with much humility, as ShadrachNottidge—threw himself upon the mercy of the gentlemen present. He wasbut an ’umble workin’ man—led astray by the villainies of Mr. Chater.In a moment of remorse, he had felt that Mr. Chater must be given up;he could not have slept in peace, good gentlemen, while Mr. Chaterremained at large. Mr. Chater had told him that he was flying for hislife; had begged him (the Shady ’un) to give him shelter. Declining toallow his white hands to be soiled—even by deputy—with blood, he hadtaken the earliest opportunity of handing Mr. Chater over to the Law.And he hoped it would be remembered in his favour.
Mr. Andrew Banks—rising young barrister of the cheery smile—tried hishardest—badgered the Coroner—twitted Inspector Tokely—was sarcasticwith the Shady ’un; but all to no purpose. The Coroner very clearlypointed out to the jury their obvious duty in this matter; remindedthem that Law and Justice took no cognizance of a man’s socialposition; and generally spun his rope a little stronger. Finally,addressing Philip, begged to know if he cared to make any statement,administering to him, at the same time, the usual legal caution.
“I have nothing to say—except that I am wholly innocent of thismurder,” said Philip, quietly.
The rest was a mere matter of form. The jury returned a verdict ofWilful Murder, against Mr. Dandy Chater, of Chater Hall, in the Countyof Essex; and he was duly committed to take his trial at the comingSessions at the county-town. Toby Siggs made some faint protest, butwas overruled; and the crowd surged out into the spring sunshine, andgenerally expressed the opinion that Dandy Chater was as good as hangedalready.