If others are to be influenced by such trifles as you are, it would have been much better if the prison barber had cut his hair a little previous to the trial; and as for downcast eye, and compressed lip, it is all part and parcel of his inward agitation just now; nothing to do with character, my good fellow."
Poor Jem! His raven hair (his mother"s pride, and so often fondly caressed by her fingers), was that, too, to have its influence against him?
The witnesses were called. At first they consisted princ.i.p.ally of policemen; who, being much accustomed to giving evidence, knew what were the material points they were called on to prove, and did not lose the time of the court in listening to anything unnecessary.
"Clear as day against the prisoner," whispered one attorney"s clerk to another.
"Black as night, you mean," replied his friend; and they both smiled.
"Jane Wilson! who"s she? some relation, I suppose, from the name."
"The mother,--she that is to prove the gun part of the case."
"Oh, ay--I remember! Rather hard on her, too, I think."
Then both were silent, as one of the officers of the court ushered Mrs. Wilson into the witness-box. I have often called her "the old woman," and "an old woman," because, in truth, her appearance was so much beyond her years, which could not be many above fifty. But partly owing to her accident in early life, which left a stamp of pain upon her face, partly owing to her anxious temper, partly to her sorrows, and partly to her limping gait, she always gave me the idea of age. But now she might have seemed more than seventy; her lines were so set and deep, her features so sharpened, and her walk so feeble. She was trying to check her sobs into composure, and (unconsciously) was striving to behave as she thought would best please her poor boy, whom she knew she had often grieved by her uncontrolled impatience. He had buried his face in his arms, which rested on the front of the dock (an att.i.tude he retained during the greater part of his trial, and which prejudiced many against him).
The counsel began the examination.
"Your name is Jane Wilson, I believe?"
"Yes, sir."
"The mother of the prisoner at the bar?"
"Yes, sir," with quivering voice, ready to break out into weeping, but earning respect by the strong effort at self-control, prompted, as I have said before, by her earnest wish to please her son by her behaviour.
The barrister now proceeded to the important part of the examination, tending to prove that the gun found on the scene of the murder was the prisoner"s. She had committed herself so fully to the policeman, that she could not well retract; so without much delay in bringing the question round to the desired point, the gun was produced in court, and the inquiry made--
"That gun belongs to your son, does it not?"
She clenched the sides of the witness-box in her efforts to make her parched tongue utter words. At last she moaned forth--
"Oh! Jem, Jem! what mun I say?"
Every one bent forward to hear the prisoner"s answer; although, in fact, it was of little importance to the issue of the trial. He lifted up his head; and with a face br.i.m.m.i.n.g full of pity for his mother, yet resolved into endurance, said--
"Tell the truth, mother!"
And so she did, with the fidelity of a little child. Every one felt that she did; and the little colloquy between mother and son did them some slight service in the opinion of the audience. But the awful judge sat unmoved; and the jurymen changed not a muscle of their countenances; while the counsel for the prosecution went triumphantly through this part of the case, including the fact of Jem"s absence from home on the night of the murder, and bringing every admission to bear right against the prisoner.
It was over. She was told to go down. But she could no longer compel her mother"s heart to keep silence, and suddenly turning towards the judge (with whom she imagined the verdict to rest), she thus addressed him with her choking voice--
"And now, sir, I"ve telled you the truth, and the whole truth, as he bid me; but don"t you let what I have said go for to hang him; oh, my lord judge, take my word for it, he"s as innocent as the child as has yet to be born. For sure, I, who am his mother, and have nursed him on my knee, and been gladdened by the sight of him every day since, ought to know him better than yon pack of fellows"
(indicating the jury, while she strove against her heart to render her words distinct and clear for her dear son"s sake), "who, I"ll go bail, never saw him before this morning in all their born days. My lord judge, he"s so good I often wondered what harm there was in him; many is the time when I"ve been fretted (for I"m frabbit enough at times), when I"ve scold"t myself, and said: "You ungrateful thing, the Lord G.o.d has given you Jem, and isn"t that blessing enough for you?" But He has seen fit to punish me. If Jem is--if Jem is--taken from me, I shall be a childless woman; and very poor, having nought left to love on earth, and I cannot say "His will be done." I cannot, my lord judge, oh, I cannot."
While sobbing out these words she was led away by the officers of the court, but tenderly, and reverently, with the respect which great sorrow commands.
The stream of evidence went on and on, gathering fresh force from every witness who was examined, and threatening to overwhelm poor Jem. Already they had proved that the gun was his, that he had been heard not many days before the commission of the deed to threaten the deceased; indeed, that the police had, at that time, been obliged to interfere, to prevent some probable act of violence. It only remained to bring forward a sufficient motive for the threat and the murder. The clue to this had been furnished by the policeman, who had overheard Jem"s angry language to Mr. Carson; and his report in the first instance had occasioned the sub-poena to Mary.
And now she was to be called on to bear witness. The court was by this time almost as full as it could hold; but fresh attempts were being made to squeeze in at all the entrances, for many were anxious to see and hear this part of the trial.
Old Mr. Carson felt an additional beat at his heart at the thought of seeing the fatal Helen, the cause of all,--a kind of interest and yet repugnance, for was not she beloved by the dead; nay, perhaps, in her way, loving and mourning for the same being that he himself was so bitterly grieving over? And yet he felt as if he abhorred her and her rumoured loveliness, as if she were the curse against him; and he grew jealous of the love with which she had inspired his son, and would fain have deprived her of even her natural right of sorrowing over her lover"s untimely end: for you see it was a fixed idea in the minds of all, that the handsome, bright, gay, rich young gentleman must have been beloved in preference to the serious, almost stern-looking smith, who had to toil for his daily bread.
Hitherto the effect of the trial had equalled Mr. Carson"s most sanguine hopes, and a severe look of satisfaction came over the face of the avenger,--over that countenance whence the smile had departed, never more to return.
All eyes were directed to the door through which the witnesses entered. Even Jem looked up to catch one glimpse before he hid his face from her look of aversion. The officer had gone to fetch her.
She was in exactly the same att.i.tude as when Job Legh had seen her two hours before through the half-open door. Not a finger had moved. The officer summoned her, but she did not stir. She was so still, he thought she had fallen asleep, and he stepped forward and touched her. She started up in an instant, and followed him with a kind of rushing rapid motion into the court, into the witness-box.
And amid all that sea of faces, misty and swimming before her eyes, she saw but two clear bright spots, distinct and fixed: the judge, who might have to condemn; and the prisoner, who might have to die.
The mellow sunlight streamed down that high window on her head, and fell on the rich treasure of her golden hair, stuffed away in ma.s.ses under her little bonnet-cap; and in those warm beams the motes kept dancing up and down. The wind had changed--had changed almost as soon as she had given up her watching; the wind had changed, and she heeded it not.
Many who were looking for mere flesh and blood beauty, mere colouring, were disappointed; for her face was deadly white, and almost set in its expression, while a mournful bewildered soul looked out of the depths of those soft, deep, grey eyes. But others recognised a higher and a stranger kind of beauty; one that would keep its hold on the memory for many after years.
I was not there myself; but one who was, told me that her look, and indeed her whole face, was more like the well-known engraving from Guido"s picture of "Beatrice Cenci" than anything else he could give me an idea of. He added, that her countenance haunted him, like the remembrance of some wild sad melody, heard in childhood; that it would perpetually recur with its mute imploring agony.
With all the court reeling before her (always save and except those awful two), she heard a voice speak, and answered the simple inquiry (something about her name) mechanically, as if in a dream. So she went on for two or three more questions, with a strange wonder in her brain, at the reality of the terrible circ.u.mstances in which she was placed.
Suddenly she was roused, she knew not how or by what. She was conscious that all was real, that hundreds were looking at her, that true-sounding words were being extracted from her; that that figure, so bowed down, with the face concealed with both hands, was really Jem. Her face flushed scarlet, and then, paler than before. But in dread of herself, with the tremendous secret imprisoned within her, she exerted every power she had to keep in the full understanding of what was going on, of what she was asked, and of what she answered.
With all her faculties preternaturally alive and sensitive, she heard the next question from the pert young barrister, who was delighted to have the examination of this witness.
"And pray, may I ask, which was the favoured lover? You say you knew both these young men. Which was the favoured lover? Which did you prefer?"
And who was he, the questioner, that he should dare so lightly to ask of her heart"s secrets? That he should dare to ask her to tell, before that mult.i.tude a.s.sembled there, what woman usually whispers with blushes and tears, and many hesitations, to one ear alone?
So, for an instant, a look of indignation contracted Mary"s brow, as she steadily met the eyes of the impertinent counsellor. But, in that instant, she saw the hands removed from a face beyond, behind; and a countenance revealed of such intense love and woe,--such a deprecating dread of her answer; and suddenly her resolution was taken. The present was everything; the future, that vast shroud, it was maddening to think upon; but NOW she might own her fault, but NOW she might even own her love. Now, when the beloved stood thus, abhorred of men, there would be no feminine shame to stand between her and her avowal. So she also turned towards the judge, partly to mark that her answer was not given to the monkeyfied man who questioned her, and likewise that the face might be averted from, and her eyes not gaze upon, the form that contracted with the dread of the words he antic.i.p.ated.
"He asks me which of them two I liked best. Perhaps I liked Mr.
Harry Carson once--I don"t know--I"ve forgotten; but I loved James Wilson, that"s now on trial, above what tongue can tell--above all else on earth put together; and I love him now better than ever, though he has never known a word of it till this minute. For you see, sir, mother died before I was thirteen, before I could know right from wrong about some things; and I was giddy and vain, and ready to listen to any praise of my good looks; and this poor young Mr. Carson fell in with me, and told me he loved me; and I was foolish enough to think he meant me marriage: a mother is a pitiful loss to a girl, sir: and so I used to fancy I could like to be a lady, and rich, and never know want any more. I never found out how dearly I loved another till one day, when James Wilson asked me to marry him, and I was very hard and sharp in my answer (for indeed, sir, I"d a deal to bear just then), and he took me at my word and left me; and from that day to this I"ve never spoken a word to him, or set eyes on him; though I"d fain have done so, to try and show him we had both been too hasty; for he"d not been gone out of my sight above a minute before I knew I loved--far above my life,"
said she, dropping her voice as she came to this second confession of the strength of her attachment. "But, if the gentleman asks me which I loved the best, I make answer, I was flattered by Mr.
Carson, and pleased with his flattery; but James Wilson, I--"
She covered her face with her hands, to hide the burning scarlet blushes, which even dyed her fingers.
There was a little pause; still, though her speech might inspire pity for the prisoner, it only strengthened the supposition of his guilt.
Presently the counsellor went on with his examination.
"But you have seen young Mr. Carson since your rejection of the prisoner?"
"Yes, often."
"You have spoken to him, I conclude, at these times."
"Only once, to call speaking."
"And what was the substance of your conversation? Did you tell him you found you preferred his rival?"