Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe

by Volume 01-05 (lit)

  Pennifeather had actually knocked down his uncles friend for some alleged

  excess of liberty that the latter had taken in the uncle's house, of which

  the nephew was an inmate. Upon this occasion "Old Charley" is said to have

  behaved with exemplary moderation and Christian charity. He arose from the

  blow, adjusted his clothes, and made no attempt at retaliation at all --

  merely muttering a few words about "taking summary vengeance at the first

  convenient opportunity," -- a natural and very justifiable ebullition of

  anger, which meant nothing, however, and, beyond doubt, was no sooner

  given vent to than forgotten.

  However these matters may be (which have no reference to the point now at

  issue), it is quite certain that the people of Rattleborough, principally

  through the persuasion of Mr. Pennifeather, came at length to the

  determination of dispersion over the adjacent country in search of the

  missing Mr. Shuttleworthy. I say they came to this determination in the

  first instance. After it had been fully resolved that a search should be

  made, it was considered almost a matter of course that the seekers should

  disperse -- that is to say, distribute themselves in parties -- for the

  more thorough examination of the region round about. I forget, however, by

  what ingenious train of reasoning it was that "Old Charley" finally

  convinced the assembly that this was the most injudicious plan that could

  be pursued. Convince them, however, he did -- all except Mr. Pennifeather,

  and, in the end, it was arranged that a search should be instituted,

  carefully and very thoroughly, by the burghers en masse, "Old Charley"

  himself leading the way.

  As for the matter of that, there could have been no better pioneer than

  "Old Charley," whom everybody knew to have the eye of a lynx; but,

  although he led them into all manner of out-of-the-way holes and corners,

  by routes that nobody had ever suspected of existing in the neighbourhood,

  and although the search was incessantly kept up day and night for nearly a

  week, still no trace of Mr. Shuttleworthy could be discovered. When I say

  no trace, however, I must not be understood to speak literally, for trace,

  to some extent, there certainly was. The poor gentleman had been tracked,

  by his horses shoes (which were peculiar), to a spot about three miles to

  the east of the borough, on the main road leading to the city. Here the

  track made off into a by-path through a piece of woodland -- the path

  coming out again into the main road, and cutting off about half a mile of

  the regular distance. Following the shoe-marks down this lane, the party

  came at length to a pool of stagnant water, half hidden by the brambles,

  to the right of the lane, and opposite this pool all vestige of the track

  was lost sight of. It appeared, however, that a struggle of some nature

  had here taken place, and it seemed as if some large and heavy body, much

  larger and heavier than a man, had been drawn from the by-path to the

  pool. This latter was carefully dragged twice, but nothing was found; and

  the party was upon the point of going away, in despair of coming to any

  result, when Providence suggested to Mr. Goodfellow the expediency of

  draining the water off altogether. This project was received with cheers,

  and many high compliments to "Old Charley" upon his sagacity and

  consideration. As many of the burghers had brought spades with them,

  supposing that they might possibly be called upon to disinter a corpse,

  the drain was easily and speedily effected; and no sooner was the bottom

  visible, than right in the middle of the mud that remained was discovered

  a black silk velvet waistcoat, which nearly every one present immediately

  recognized as the property of Mr. Pennifeather. This waistcoat was much

  torn and stained with blood, and there were several persons among the

  party who had a distinct remembrance of its having been worn by its owner

  on the very morning of Mr. Shuttleworthy's departure for the city; while

  there were others, again, ready to testify upon oath, if required, that

  Mr. P. did not wear the garment in question at any period during the

  remainder of that memorable day, nor could any one be found to say that he

  had seen it upon Mr. P.'s person at any period at all subsequent to Mr.

  Shuttleworthy's disappearance.

  Matters now wore a very serious aspect for Mr. Pennifeather, and it was

  observed, as an indubitable confirmation of the suspicions which were

  excited against him, that he grew exceedingly pale, and when asked what he

  had to say for himself, was utterly incapable of saying a word. Hereupon,

  the few friends his riotous mode of living had left him, deserted him at

  once to a man, and were even more clamorous than his ancient and avowed

  enemies for his instantaneous arrest. But, on the other hand, the

  magnanimity of Mr. Goodfellow shone forth with only the more brilliant

  lustre through contrast. He made a warm and intensely eloquent defence of

  Mr. Pennifeather, in which he alluded more than once to his own sincere

  forgiveness of that wild young gentleman -- "the heir of the worthy Mr.

  Shuttleworthy," -- for the insult which he (the young gentleman) had, no

  doubt in the heat of passion, thought proper to put upon him (Mr.

  Goodfellow). "He forgave him for it," he said, "from the very bottom of

  his heart; and for himself (Mr. Goodfellow), so far from pushing the

  suspicious circumstances to extremity, which he was sorry to say, really

  had arisen against Mr. Pennifeather, he (Mr. Goodfellow) would make every

  exertion in his power, would employ all the little eloquence in his

  possession to -- to -- to -- soften down, as much as he could

  conscientiously do so, the worst features of this really exceedingly

  perplexing piece of business."

  Mr. Goodfellow went on for some half hour longer in this strain, very much

  to the credit both of his head and of his heart; but your warm-hearted

  people are seldom apposite in their observations -- they run into all

  sorts of blunders, contre-temps and mal apropos-isms, in the

  hot-headedness of their zeal to serve a friend -- thus, often with the

  kindest intentions in the world, doing infinitely more to prejudice his

  cause than to advance it.

  So, in the present instance, it turned out with all the eloquence of "Old

  Charley"; for, although he laboured earnestly in behalf of the suspected,

  yet it so happened, somehow or other, that every syllable he uttered of

  which the direct but unwitting tendency was not to exalt the speaker in

  the good opinion of his audience, had the effect to deepen the suspicion

  already attached to the individual whose cause he pleaded, and to arouse

  against him the fury of the mob.

  One of the most unaccountable errors committed by the orator was his

  allusion to the suspected as "the heir of the worthy old gentleman Mr.

  Shuttleworthy." The people had really never thought of this before. They

  had only remembered certain threats of disinheritance uttered a year or

  two previously by the uncle (who had no living relative except the

  nephew), and they had, therefore, always looked upon th
is disinheritance

  as a matter that was settled -- so single-minded a race of beings were the

  Rattleburghers; but the remark of "Old Charley" brought them at once to a

  consideration of this point, and thus gave them to see the possibility of

  the threats having been nothing more than a threat. And straightway

  hereupon, arose the natural question of cui bono? -- a question that

  tended even more than the waistcoat to fasten the terrible crime upon the

  young man. And here, lest I may be misunderstood, permit me to digress for

  one moment merely to observe that the exceedingly brief and simple Latin

  phrase which I have employed, is invariably mistranslated and

  misconceived. "Cui bono?" in all the crack novels and elsewhere, -- in

  those of Mrs. Gore, for example, (the author of "Cecil,") a lady who

  quotes all tongues from the Chaldaean to Chickasaw, and is helped to her

  learning, "as needed," upon a systematic plan, by Mr. Beckford, -- in all

  the crack novels, I say, from those of Bulwer and Dickens to those of

  Bulwer and Dickens to those of Turnapenny and Ainsworth, the two little

  Latin words cui bono are rendered "to what purpose?" or, (as if quo bono,)

  "to what good." Their true meaning, nevertheless, is "for whose

  advantage." Cui, to whom; bono, is it for a benefit. It is a purely legal

  phrase, and applicable precisely in cases such as we have now under

  consideration, where the probability of the doer of a deed hinges upon the

  probability of the benefit accruing to this individual or to that from the

  deed's accomplishment. Now in the present instance, the question cui bono?

  very pointedly implicated Mr. Pennifeather. His uncle had threatened him,

  after making a will in his favour, with disinheritance. But the threat had

  not been actually kept; the original will, it appeared, had not been

  altered. Had it been altered, the only supposable motive for murder on the

  part of the suspected would have been the ordinary one of revenge; and

  even this would have been counteracted by the hope of reinstation into the

  good graces of the uncle. But the will being unaltered, while the threat

  to alter remained suspended over the nephew's head, there appears at once

  the very strongest possible inducement for the atrocity, and so concluded,

  very sagaciously, the worthy citizens of the borough of Rattle.

  Mr. Pennifeather was, accordingly, arrested upon the spot, and the crowd,

  after some further search, proceeded homeward, having him in custody. On

  the route, however, another circumstance occurred tending to confirm the

  suspicion entertained. Mr. Goodfellow, whose zeal led him to be always a

  little in advance of the party, was seen suddenly to run forward a few

  paces, stoop, and then apparently to pick up some small object from the

  grass. Having quickly examined it he was observed, too, to make a sort of

  half attempt at concealing it in his coat pocket; but this action was

  noticed, as I say, and consequently prevented, when the object picked up

  was found to be a Spanish knife which a dozen persons at once recognized

  as belonging to Mr. Pennifeather. Moreover, his initials were engraved

  upon the handle. The blade of this knife was open and bloody.

  No doubt now remained of the guilt of the nephew, and immediately upon

  reaching Rattleborough he was taken before a magistrate for examination.

  Here matters again took a most unfavourable turn. The prisoner, being

  questioned as to his whereabouts on the morning of Mr. Shuttleworthy's

  disappearance, had absolutely the audacity to acknowledge that on that

  very morning he had been out with his rifle deer-stalking, in the

  immediate neighbourhood of the pool where the blood-stained waistcoat had

  been discovered through the sagacity of Mr. Goodfellow.

  This latter now came forward, and, with tears in his eyes, asked

  permission to be examined. He said that a stern sense of the duty he owed

  his Maker, not less than his fellow-men, would permit him no longer to

  remain silent. Hitherto, the sincerest affection for the young man

  (notwithstanding the latter's ill-treatment of himself, Mr. Goodfellow)

  had induced him to make every hypothesis which imagination could suggest,

  by way of endeavoring to account for what appeared suspicious in the

  circumstances that told so seriously against Mr. Pennifeather, but these

  circumstances were now altogether too convincing -- too damning, he would

  hesitate no longer -- he would tell all he knew, although his heart (Mr.

  Goodfellow's) should absolutely burst asunder in the effort. He then went

  on to state that, on the afternoon of the day previous to Mr.

  Shuttleworthy's departure for the city, that worthy old gentleman had

  mentioned to his nephew, in his hearing (Mr. Goodfellow's), that his

  object in going to town on the morrow was to make a deposit of an

  unusually large sum of money in the "Farmers and Mechanics' Bank," and

  that, then and there, the said Mr. Shuttleworthy had distinctly avowed to

  the said nephew his irrevocable determination of rescinding the will

  originally made, and of cutting him off with a shilling. He (the witness)

  now solemnly called upon the accused to state whether what he (the

  witness) had just stated was or was not the truth in every substantial

  particular. Much to the astonishment of every one present, Mr.

  Pennifeather frankly admitted that it was.

  The magistrate now considered it his duty to send a couple of constables

  to search the chamber of the accused in the house of his uncle. From this

  search they almost immediately returned with the well-known steel-bound,

  russet leather pocket-book which the old gentleman had been in the habit

  of carrying for years. Its valuable contents, however, had been

  abstracted, and the magistrate in vain endeavored to extort from the

  prisoner the use which had been made of them, or the place of their

  concealment. Indeed, he obstinately denied all knowledge of the matter.

  The constables, also, discovered, between the bed and sacking of the

  unhappy man, a shirt and neck-handkerchief both marked with the initials

  of his name, and both hideously besmeared with the blood of the victim.

  At this juncture, it was announced that the horse of the murdered man had

  just expired in the stable from the effects of the wound he had received,

  and it was proposed by Mr. Goodfellow that a post mortem examination of

  the beast should be immediately made, with the view, if possible, of

  discovering the ball. This was accordingly done; and, as if to demonstrate

  beyond a question the guilt of the accused, Mr. Goodfellow, after

  considerable searching in the cavity of the chest was enabled to detect

  and to pull forth a bullet of very extraordinary size, which, upon trial,

  was found to be exactly adapted to the bore of Mr. Pennifeather's rifle,

  while it was far too large for that of any other person in the borough or

  its vicinity. To render the matter even surer yet, however, this bullet

  was discovered to have a flaw or seam at right angles to the usual suture,

  and upon examination, this seam corresponded precisely with an accidental

  ridge or elevation in a pair of moulds acknowledged by the
accused himself

  to be his own property. Upon finding of this bullet, the examining

  magistrate refused to listen to any farther testimony, and immediately

  committed the prisoner for trial-declining resolutely to take any bail in

  the case, although against this severity Mr. Goodfellow very warmly

  remonstrated, and offered to become surety in whatever amount might be

  required. This generosity on the part of "Old Charley" was only in

  accordance with the whole tenour of his amiable and chivalrous conduct

  during the entire period of his sojourn in the borough of Rattle. In the

  present instance the worthy man was so entirely carried away by the

  excessive warmth of his sympathy, that he seemed to have quite forgotten,

  when he offered to go bail for his young friend, that he himself (Mr.

  Goodfellow) did not possess a single dollar's worth of property upon the

  face of the earth.

  The result of the committal may be readily foreseen. Mr. Pennifeather,

  amid the loud execrations of all Rattleborough, was brought to trial at

  the next criminal sessions, when the chain of circumstantial evidence

  (strengthened as it was by some additional damning facts, which Mr.

  Goodfellow's sensitive conscientiousness forbade him to withhold from the

  court) was considered so unbroken and so thoroughly conclusive, that the

  jury, without leaving their seats, returned an immediate verdict of

  "Guilty of murder in the first degree." Soon afterward the unhappy wretch

  received sentence of death, and was remanded to the county jail to await

  the inexorable vengeance of the law.

  In the meantime, the noble behavior of "Old Charley Goodfellow, had doubly

  endeared him to the honest citizens of the borough. He became ten times a

  greater favorite than ever, and, as a natural result of the hospitality

  with which he was treated, he relaxed, as it were, perforce, the extremely

  parsimonious habits which his poverty had hitherto impelled him to

  observe, and very frequently had little reunions at his own house, when

  wit and jollity reigned supreme-dampened a little, of course, by the