CHAPTER XXXIXTHE DEPTHSAfter breakfast I asked Constance to go with me to see Uncle Job, and her father assenting, we soon reached the jail where he was confined. It was a forlorn-looking place, built of rough logs, strips of wood and plaster filling the intervening spaces. Gaining admission, we found Uncle Job in a cell apart, and so cold and cheerless of aspect that we could scarce restrain our tears at the sight of it. He, not expecting us, was quite upset, but recovering himself, asked us to sit down on the rude bench that half-filled the place and answered for both seat and bed."Your faces are like a glimpse of heaven," he exclaimed, putting his arms about us with tender affection.To this we could make no reply, and for a long time sat bolt upright, holding his hands and gazing at the blank wall before us. At last, mustering some courage, I said:"I would have been here before, uncle, but have been living at the Blakes', and it was only yesterday that he came home and told us of your trouble.""Then that is where you have been?" he asked, surprised at what I said."Yes," I replied."They are kind people, and had I known you were there, I should not have worried about you.""It was foolish in me to run away, and I'm ashamed of myself; and now more than ever," I answered, unable to say more."You need not have feared Moth; and now he is under bonds not to molest you, so there will be no further trouble.""I am glad of that, though I don't care for him any more. He is a scoundrel and sneak, and I'm going to give him a thrashing when I see him," I answered, and meaning to do as I said."That is foolish talk, Gilbert. You must not get into any trouble with him. He is a man to fear and avoid. Wait; time will bring everything out right.""Yes, we hope so; but Moth deserves a beating just the same for mixing up so much in our affairs," I answered."Nothing he attempts against us will succeed," Uncle Job answered, and believing what he said. For he was in all things a very religious man, and did not think it possible that the innocent could suffer wrong."What chance have you, Uncle Job, anyway, for we are all worried to death?" I exclaimed at last, my emotion overcoming me."The chance an innocent man always has"; saying which he looked into my eyes, as if to read there my inmost thoughts concerning him."We know you're innocent, we're sure you are," I answered; "but if they don't believe it and find you guilty?""How can I help that, save by telling the truth? There is no other way, for I can't make head or tail of it, and haven't a single witness. Nothing save my word and what men know of me.""They know nothing but good of you, but who did take the money? You know, I'm sure.""If I knew, I would say so; but I don't, and so can't accuse any one.""Then who do you think took it?" I asked, standing up and facing him."What I think isn't of any account unless I know and can prove it, and that I can't do.""Yes, and keeping still, they will convict you!" I cried, stirred out of all patience by his calm assurance."I hope not; but there is no other way that I know of, or that others can devise for me, so far as I can see.""Mr. Seymour says you were drugged.""I was, but by whom I can't tell; and as regards the money, I know no more about it than Constance here," he exclaimed, laying his hand on her head. At this she burst into tears, and for that matter Uncle Job himself could no longer maintain any semblance of calmness, so great was his distress.Long we talked, but without any result, for not a thing could I learn likely to afford Fox a clew to work upon. When at last we returned home, much discouraged, we were greatly surprised to find Mr. and Mrs. Blake awaiting us. Mrs. Blake greeted me in the most affectionate way, throwing her arms about my body and holding me against her bosom for a long time without speaking. At last overcoming her agitation, she exclaimed between her sobs:"How could you leave us in the way you did, Gilbert; and the horror of it, too! You can never know, you foolish boy, how my heart sank when I found you were out in that dreadful storm. How could you have been so cruel?" and stopping, she held me from her, as if to assure herself that it was I and no one else she clasped in her arms."I had no thought of the storm or that I ran any risk. Indeed, it was not so bad, after all, for when I reached the Eagle's Nest I found supper and a warm bed. I'm not a bit the worse, you see, for the journey; but I'm sorry to have caused you so much anxiety and trouble, and hope you'll forgive me," I answered, much cast down at her distress."I never saw a storm so fierce and wild. We scarce slept for the cold and rocking of the house in the wind; and when, late in the night, I went to your room to see how you were getting on, I thought I should have died when I found you gone and your bed untouched. Sitting about until there was a bit of light, we started after you, stopping, with our hearts in our mouths, to stir every mound of snow by the wayside, expecting to find your body beneath it. Oh, it was dreadful!""Oh, Gilbert, you never told us a word of this," Constance cried, coming to my side. "How could you have kept it back?""It was not nearly so bad as Mrs. Blake thinks, Constance. I reached the tavern all right, and in a little while was as good as new. If the night hadn't turned out as it did, I would have been here by twelve o'clock, and none the worse for the tramp, either.""Yes, but think, Miss Constance, of his being in the forest alone, and on such a night and clad as he was! We will always blame ourselves for not bringing him here yesterday, as he implored us to do.""Please don't talk of it any more, I love you so much!" I cried out at last. "I couldn't help doing what I did.""I know you couldn't; and we are happy in finding you alive and well. You will go back with us, or if not now, when your uncle's trouble is fixed up, as we hope and pray it will be soon. You know we love you as if you were our own son.""That we do, Gilbert, and wish you to live with us always," Mr. Blake now broke in for the first time."Sweet lady," Mr. Seymour here interposed, coming forward and taking Mrs. Blake's hand and kissing it reverently as a son might, "I want to thank you and Mr. Blake for your kindness to Gilbert and love for him; and I am made happy, madam, by having an insight into a heart so affectionate and true and every way worthy of regard. Gilbert is as my own son, and I kiss your hand again, madam, to show my respect and love for you," and Mr. Seymour bent over and lifted her hand to his lips with as much deference as he would have shown his queen. Constance, who had stood by with tears dimming her eyes, now put her soft arms about Mrs. Blake and embraced and kissed her, as if she could not show plainly enough how much she loved her for her tender heart.As the Blakes had left home without their breakfast, and it was now midday, Constance ordered luncheon spread for them in the Treasury, and while they were satisfying their hunger we sat about or waited upon them with loving attention. Afterward, as they could not be prevailed upon to stop longer, Constance and I went with them to the edge of the town, where we watched till they were out of sight. When it was dark, I went to meet Fox, as we had agreed, but without hope, so little had I been able to learn that would be of use to him. He was there before me, and upon hearing my voice, which I could by no means render cheerful, cried out in great spirits:"Don't be downhearted, you little vagrant, but tell me all you have found out, not forgetting the smallest thing, as I told you. It is in some trifle that the rogues always give themselves away, the thief-catchers say. I ought to have been a constable, and not a preacher, my boy," he went on; with cheerful unconcern; "but many a good man has made a like mistake. It shows, you see, how little we know what we are good for when young. Come now, commence at the beginning and tell me what you have discovered, and take your time about it, for there is no hurry."Thus encouraged, I told him all I had found out, not omitting anything I could remember, however trifling."So Miss Constance thinks Rathe is the thief, does she? A bright girl, I'll wager; but why does she think that?" he asked, when I had concluded."Because neither of us like him, and because he and Mr. Seymour were the only ones there when the money was sealed up the evening before the robbery.""So they sealed it up, did they? What was that for, I wonder?""I don't know, unless to make sure.""Well, it was business-like, anyway; but Miss Constance must have some other reason for disliking Rathe?""Yes, because he and Uncle Job are rivals.""Rivals! rivals! For what, I'd like to know?""For Miss Betty's favor.""What is that you are saying? Pray, who is Miss Betty?""Miss Betty Singleton, a young lady in Appletop.""How long have they been rivals?""I don't know, but before I came here.""Well, this is what I call gossip, Gilbert, and makes me feel as if I were in Boston again. We ought to have a cup of tea and a bit of toast and a cozy fire to enjoy it fully, though. Which of the suitors, pray, does Miss Betty favor—your uncle or the other man?""Uncle Job, Constance thinks.""I'll bet she is right, too, if Miss Betty is a girl of sense, and she is or your uncle wouldn't care for her. So the rivalry has been on for a long time—before you had that scare in Murderer's Hollow, probably?""Yes, long before that.""Well, you have a fine ear for gossip, Gilbert, if you are not much of a detective. Let me see now," he went on, "if I have everything straight"; and with that he began to question me afresh about the robbery, and the money, and the shape it was in, and how and where Uncle Job lived, and about his business and love affair, and a thousand other things of which I could see no point whatever."You have not told me when the trial is to come off," he exclaimed, finally, "or isn't that decided yet?""In three days from now.""Whew! but they are speedy! Let me see, the robbery happened eight days ago. That is hardly giving him time to turn around.""That's what I think, but Mr. Seymour says it's the way, and that Uncle Job wishes it hurried," I answered."Yes; and it's as good a way as any. The sooner men are tried and afforded a chance to prove their innocence, or stand convicted, the more likely justice is to be done. Only time enough should be given to get together the evidence. More than that is a trick.""Enough time hasn't been allowed Uncle Job," I answered, "for there's only three days more, and nothing has been done.""I don't know. A good many things might happen in three days, Gilbert; so don't be too downhearted. Go back to town and see what more you can learn, and don't forget to spy out what Moth and the constable are doing. Then come here the second night from this, crammed with news, and I will be here to meet you. You are sure, though, that you have told me everything you have heard?" he added."Yes, I'm sure.""Well, then, if that is all, give me your hand and I will help you to a ride to town."On our way back he sought to cheer me up, but not with much success, for I could see no loophole by which Uncle Job could escape, so closely was the web drawn about him—unless, indeed, his good name should serve him with the jury, as he thought; but of this I had not much hope, so greatly did I fear Moth's misrepresentations and sarcasm of speech.The next day, when on my way to visit Uncle Job, I met Blott as he was leaving the jail. Jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Uncle Job's cell, he remarked, in his slow way:"He's in the spider's web, sure; Pickle's got him, the little ant!""Yes," I cried; "and he is the man who saved your life. Now he's in trouble why don't you save him, and pay your debt?" I asked, in a heat."There's nothin' in the world I wouldn't do to help him. He saved my life an' saved me from other things worse'n dyin'," Blott answered, mournfully. "I could git him out of jail easy enough, if that was all, an' offered to, but he won't budge.""I spoke without thinking, Blott," I answered, ashamed of myself; "but he is in trouble, and needs friends, and hasn't any.""He's lots of friends, an' that's all the good it does; but the Lord ain't goin' to let a man like him be eaten up by moths, I don't believe, though how he's to be saved I don't see.""Can't anything be done?" I asked, in despair."Not as it appears now; but be cheerf, Gilbert, be cheerf. It'll all come out right in the end, an' truth'll triumph, if what the Sunday-school teachers preach is true. To make sure, though, git your uncle into the idea of movin', an' I'll have him clear of the place an' out of the country in twenty-four hours"; saying which, Blott wrung my hand and hurried away, as if not daring to trust himself to speak further.Save what I have related, the two days passed without my being able to find out anything new or of interest to Fox. Upon my going to the meeting-place, as we had agreed, however, he was not there, nor did he come. This I could not account for, unless, indeed, he was discouraged like the others, and seeing no hope for Uncle Job had avoided meeting me. This I thought was the case, but waiting until midnight, I at last returned home, worn and discouraged, without one comforting thought regarding the trial to come off the following day.CHAPTER XLJOB THROCKMORTON'S TRIAL: THE TRAGEDYThe next morning I arose at break of day and hastened to the jail, to be with Uncle Job to comfort him in some measure, if that were possible, before going to the place of trial. Afterward, seated beside him in the crowded courtroom, I looked about, to see Miss Betty a few feet away, her eyes red and swollen, as if she had grieved much and slept but little. All the fun was clean gone out of the poor thing, and in its place nothing but sorrow and deep anxiety. Her face, too, always so rosy and smiling, was now pale and drawn, giving her the look of being much older than she was. Meeting my gaze, she smiled upon me, as if in gratitude for my being there. Constance sat beside her, and when I caught her eye her face lighted, and this I knew to comfort me and give me courage to abide the end, whatever it might be. Except these two and Setti, who sat next to Constance, no friendly look met mine. Surely, I thought, some of our friends might have come, or was our cause so desperate that every one stayed away to hide their grief at the end they so clearly foresaw?Uncle Job bore himself like the fine gentleman he was, neither courting nor shunning the eye of any one when he entered the room. Bowing politely to those who recognized him, he passed others who avoided acquaintanceship with the grace of unconsciousness that only well-bred people possess. This happening led me to believe then and this belief has only been strengthened by time, that no good man or woman ever can refuse to recognize another whom they by chance know, however humble or obscure, unless such person has been convicted of some crime that shames our morals. Only the smaller parasites and hangers-on of social life, I am assured, can commit such an offense against good manners. Uncle Job, however, did not appear cast down by what he saw, though craving kindly sympathy and being a man who would have freely offered it under like circumstances.Moth sat near by, looking pinched and meaner than ever, I thought, though his appearance was always inferior to that of other men. The cunning look he gave me from out his deep-set eyes when I glanced his way I pretended not to see, so greatly did I loathe the man. Looking beyond to the jury, I could not make them out, unless, indeed, they had the air of expecting a treat, for which pay was to be forthcoming, rather than having a duty to perform. Being men tanned in the sun and simple of habit, however, I could not tell. Mr. Promb, Uncle Job's lawyer, sat beside Moth, and suffered greatly, I thought, in comparison with that saffron-faced and eager-eyed man. Otherwise he was wholesome to look upon, and without doubt much the better man of the two. If Uncle Job could but have had Mr. Lincoln to plead his cause, I mourned, as we sat waiting, there would then be no need to borrow trouble. His innocence would be made clear as noonday to every one by the honesty and God-like persuasiveness of his advocate. Alas! neither he nor any other fit person for occasion so great could be had, and Uncle Job must, perforce, suffer whatever fate befell him.Mr. Seymour had thought it greatly in Uncle Job's favor that the trial was to be before Judge Douglas, a rising man, already much spoken of in the state because of the brilliancy of his mind and his vast comprehension of the world and its affairs. This truly great man was, at the time of which I speak, just beginning the wonderful career that for many years made him a power in the land and known of men far and near, all finally to culminate in his strivings after the presidency with Mr. Lincoln and his death at an early day thereafter. Of his greatness, however, soon to be proven in the Senate and elsewhere, only the more discerning had then, any inkling.[*][*] The Statesman Gilbert Holmes here refers to was Stephen A. Douglas, called "The Little Giant" because of his sturdy form and the strength of his intellect. Judge Douglas was afterward for many years United States Senator from Illinois, and prominent in the politics of our country immediately preceding the great Civil War. In 1860 he was a candidate for President with Lincoln and Breckenridge, and upon the opening of the war, in 1861, generously came forward and offered Mr. Lincoln his support and that of his adherents. This act of unsolicited patriotism proved of incalculable benefit then and afterward to the President and the Union.—THE AUTHOR.With the arrival of the hour set apart, the clerk arose and called the trial, and loudly, as if the matter were unexpected and notice now given for the first time. No sooner did he cease and the prisoner had answered "Not guilty," than Moth arose, with great show of deference to the judge and jury."May it please the honorable court and this intelligent jury," he went on, "I appear here on behalf of the people to aid in the punishment of a monstrous crime—a crime conceived in cunning and lust of wealth by one who before stood high in the estimation of many good men. You will notice I do not say all good men, and in this qualification I speak advisedly. Many have never believed the prisoner honest; I never have, and for good reason. He is young, of aspiring nature, of unknown antecedents, and greedy of preferment and gain. This latter some of you may have known before, but it is well to again call it to your attention. His downcast look and the lean and covetous lines about his face tell a story of duplicity and cunning no intelligent man, least of all a jury so circumspect as this, can mistake," and Moth looked with lowering eyes upon Uncle Job, whose countenance, truth to say, was neither lowering nor covetous, but open and manly as one could wish. Then turning to the jury, he cried, waving his hand: "I do not ask you to believe me. Look for yourselves, gentlemen.""I object to this line of procedure, your honor, in advance of the evidence," Mr. Promb broke in, with considerable spirit, "as being likely to prejudice the case of my client, and wrongfully.""The attorney for the state will confine himself to the line of evidence he proposes to present. The jury may properly be left to form their own opinion of the prisoner's personal appearance," Judge Douglas responded, with some severity."Very well, your honor; but it is impossible to prejudice a case so plain to all men as this will be made to appear further on. Restricting myself, however, as you justly observe, we shall prove all that I have intimated and more. We will prove that a sum of money, great enough to tempt the cupidity of a weak man, such as the prisoner at the bar, was left in his care, and that taking advantage of the confidence reposed in him, he deliberately and feloniously and with malice aforethought made away with it, to his own advantage and the detriment of his patron and the good morals of society. All this we will prove, may it please your honor and the honorable jury."When Moth concluded, Mr. Promb arose, but only to excuse himself from addressing the court at this stage of the proceedings. Whereupon Moth sprang to his feet again and asked that Mr. Henry Seymour, a friend of the prisoner, be sworn. When thus called, Mr. Seymour, who sat some way off, arose and made his way to the witness-stand, all eyes turned expectantly upon him, as if he, too, might possibly be guilty, being a friend of the accused. Passing Uncle Job, the latter smiled upon him as if in assurance of unalterable good will, whatever his testimony might be. When Mr. Seymour had been sworn, Moth proceeded:"Were you present in the office of Throckmorton & Rathe on the evening when the sum of money stolen, amounting to about ten thousand dollars, was intrusted to the personal care of Job Throckmorton for safe-keeping over night?""I was.""Did the said Throckmorton receive the money?""He did.""Did he not volunteer to perform this service without solicitation from anyone? Nay, did he not insist upon assuming the care of the money when Mr. Rathe asked to be allowed to perform the duty?" Moth went on."I do not understand that Rathe did more than volunteer to take charge of the money.""Answer my question, yes or no. Did not the prisoner insist upon remaining at the office to guard the money?"Upon this the witness turned to the judge, as if seeking guidance, and the latter nodding assent, Mr. Seymour answered, but with manifest reluctance, it was plain:"He did.""Afterward, on the following morning, when the money had been stolen, what reason did Throckmorton give for its loss? Did he not claim he had been drugged?" Moth asked, looking toward the jury rather than at the witness."He did; and what he claimed I verily believe," Mr. Seymour answered, with great promptness."I did not ask you what you believed; it is of no consequence, either here or elsewhere. The prisoner lives with you, I understand, and pays you for his board and lodging, and naturally, and because of this, you would believe anything he said," Moth answered, addressing the jury."I call on the court to protect me from the insinuations of this mountebank," Mr. Seymour cried, very red in the face, turning to the judge."I call on the court to fine and imprison the witness for the use of an epithet so uncalled for and so little in harmony with the dignity of the place and the honorable judge and jury," Moth answered, loudly, and as if grieved and humiliated beyond expression."The attorney for the state will go on with the case, confining himself to its merits and the evidence in hand," Judge Douglas commanded, addressing Moth."The witness having testified to the truth of what we look to to prove the guilt of the prisoner, I have, your honor, no further questions to ask him," Moth concluded.Upon Mr. Promb's intimating that he did not desire to cross-examine Mr. Seymour, Moth asked that Mr. Philetus Tipps be called.This gentleman, who sat near Moth, arose upon his name being thus announced, and doing so lifted his eyes, as if to economize time in taking the oath, in pursuance of a habit long acquired. Mr. Tipps' presence was not commanding, though a tuft of hair standing upright on the edge of his narrow forehead served to augment his height and add to the dignity of his manner; it also gave him a somewhat fierce look, in which an air of alertness blended. Altogether his manner conveyed an idea of weariness, as if he were going through a ceremony often repeated and of little or no interest to him in the first instance. Contrary to what one would suppose of a person performing the office of constable, Mr. Tipps' body was nothing to speak of, being so slight that he might easily have slipped between the rails of a common fence without injury to his raiment. This, however, did not apply to his feet, which were much spread abroad, as if by long waiting and standing about the corridors of justice. It was also a peculiarity of Mr. Tipps that in raising his eyes to take the oath he did not look upward, but at an angle, as if the Being he appealed to dwelt somewhere on the horizon. This, however, was a device merely, it was apparent, to save labor and conserve his strength, and not at all as indicating the presence of the Deity in that particular place. Of these interesting details Moth took no account, but taking the witness in hand, as if he were a lemon or pomegranate ripe for squeezing, demanded of him, in a peremptory way:"What is your name and residence?""Philetus Tipps, of Rock Island.""What is your business?""Constable.""Have you been looking up evidence in the case of the StateversusThrockmorton?""I have.""In such investigation have you discovered evidence of the presence of chloroform in the office of Throckmorton & Rathe, and likely to have been there on the night of the robbery?""I have," Tipps answered."In what shape, may I ask?""In the shape of a bottle partly filled with that substance.""Indeed! Where, may I ask, did you discover this bottle?" Moth inquired, as if hearing of it now for the first time."I found it hidden away under the stairway off the room in which Throckmorton slept on the night of the robbery.""Have you the bottle with you?""I have.""I ask that you deliver it to the clerk of the court"; and upon his complying, Moth turned to the judge, saying he had no further questions to ask the witness. Cross-examination being waived, as in the case of Mr. Seymour, Moth asked that Augustus Collygog be called, which being done that gentleman stepped forward to be sworn. Mr. Collygog was a slender, clerical man, with pale face and considerable particularity of dress, having about him the look of one accustomed to handle delicate things, and such as might on occasion pertain to men's lives or matters of that nature. When he had taken the oath, which he did solemnly and as if determined to be strictly accurate in all he said, Moth asked:"You are a druggist, are you not?""Yes, sir, a druggist; or, excuse me, more appropriately speaking, perhaps, an apothecary," Mr. Collygog replied, without relaxing the fixed expression of his face."You keep a drugstore?""Ha! yes, a drugstore; or, you will excuse me, sir, more properly a pharmacy," he answered, nursing the feeble whiskers that grew on his sunken cheeks."Where is your place?""In Appletop, sir, and directly over the way, facing the Galena road, if you please, and convenient from every part of the city.""You fill prescriptions and orders for medicine and things of that kind?" Moth asked."Yes, and a very delicate duty and requiring circumspection. Yes, certainly, requiring circumspection—and much experience," Mr. Collygog replied, as if deriving great personal satisfaction from what he said."Will you look at the bottle partly filled with chloroform, in the possession of the clerk of the court, and tell me if it was put up at your shop?""Yes, to be sure, at my pharmacy, if you please," the witness answered, after carefully examining the bottle from different points of view."You are sure?" Moth asked, sternly."Oh, dear me, yes, quite sure! The bottle bears my label, as you may see: 'Doctor Augustus Collygog, Pharmacist and Dealer in Surgical Instruments and Small Notions, Appletop, Illinois.'""Who procured it of you?" Moth asked."Who? Oh, excuse me, sir; but the secrets of the profession are sacred—sacred, sir."At this Moth turned to the judge, but the latter, not waiting, said:"The witness must answer the question.""Thank you, Judge, if I must; but only on compulsion.""Well, who was it?" Moth asked, impatiently."Ha! yes. Who was what?" Doctor Collygog answered, losing the thread of the examination."Who was it that bought the stuff of you?" Moth screamed at the top of his voice."Oh, yes, I understand; but not quite so loud, if you please, sir. It was Mr. Job Throckmorton.""That will do. If you please, your honor, the state rests here, confident of having proven its case and steadfastly believing in the intelligence of the honorable jury called to pass upon the testimony. Indeed, it is so plain, that I should waste your time with explanations. Having bought the chloroform and sprinkled it about his bed, Throckmorton hid what remained. Through the happy chance of finding the half-filled bottle where he placed it, however, the whole scheme is made clear, and his identity as the robber proven beyond the shadow of a doubt."Upon Moth's concluding, Mr. Promb arose, and facing the last witness, asked:"When did Mr. Throckmorton procure this medicine of you?""Yes, Mr. Promb. Let me see; in September, I think, or possibly—I do not say positively—in the fore part of October. The books of My House will show.""Did he say what he wanted it for?""I think not; but indeed I might be mistaken in this, it not being thought material in his case, he being a man grown and responsible.""Did he not say it was for his nephew, who was ill at the Dragon?""Ha! I think not, Mr. Promb; but, dear me, I can't be certain, as I have just said.""That is all. May it please your honor, we should like to have Mr. Seymour recalled"; and upon this being done, Mr. Promb asked:"Do you recognize this bottle?""I do," answered Mr. Seymour."For what purpose did Mr. Throckmorton procure the chloroform it contains?""For his nephew, then sick at my house.""Was it so used?" Mr. Promb asked."It was, to my personal knowledge.""When?""About the time stated by Mr. Collygog."After this, Mr. Promb recalled Tipps, who arose, with hand uplifted and eyes raised obliquely as before, but nothing came of his re-examination. After him many other men, all reputable and of good standing in the community, were summoned by Mr. Promb to prove the prisoner's high character; and with this, and a fine speech, but lacking force, I thought, Uncle Job's attorney closed the defense. Upon this, Moth asked that Mr. Seymour be recalled, and when this had been done, he asked:"After the recovery of Mr. Throckmorton's nephew, what was done with the bottle of chloroform?""I do not know.""Who would know?" Moth asked."The servants, or perhaps my daughter.""That is all," Moth responded; "I desire that Miss Constance Seymour be called, your honor."She not moving, nor seeming able to move, her father went to her, and taking her hand, led her forward, speaking encouragingly as they made their way through the crowded room."What is your name?" Moth asked, upon her being sworn."Constance Seymour.""Do you recognize this bottle, Miss Constance?" Moth asked, and with every show of gentleness and respect, I am bound to say, for which I could not help but feel grateful to the scoundrel."Yes, sir.""What was done with it after Gilbert Holmes' illness?" Moth asked.To this Constance did not reply, nor would she until Judge Douglas, leaning forward, said, with a smile of encouragement, that she must answer the question."I placed it in Mr. Throckmorton's room," she replied at last, trembling, and scarce above a whisper."You placed it in Mr. Throckmorton's room? Thank you; that will do," Moth said, looking toward the jury, as if they must certainly now confirm his belief that he had proven Uncle Job's guilt beyond the shadow of a doubt. "Your honor, I submit the case without further statement," he went on, "having fully proven that Throckmorton is the thief, and no one else"; saying which, he bowed and sank into his seat with a complacent smile.Upon this Mr. Promb conferred for a long while with Uncle Job, urging upon him something he would by no means consent to, but of what nature I could not tell. Afterward, turning to the judge, he said:"The defense also rests its case here, desiring only to point out to the honorable court and jury that in all his life, and in every affair of business in which he has been engaged, and they have been many, Mr. Throckmorton has borne an honorable character before men, no shadow of any kind resting upon it. We hold, and in this we believe the jury will agree, that because of his good name and unimpeachable integrity it is impossible he could have committed the crime imputed to him. There is a mystery connected with the case, we admit, that we cannot now fathom, but feel assured that time will do this, and ere long, and to your entire satisfaction and that of the community. In the confident belief that this is so, he throws himself upon your mercy, believing that the knowledge you have of men and how little likely they are to go wrong when all their lives have been animated by honorable acts, will be found sufficient to justify his acquittal—nay, to command it of you as a right."The trial being thus closed, Judge Douglas arose to charge the jury, and doing so, pointed out that they must be governed in all things by the testimony, but that if adverse to the prisoner, his previous good character might of right be considered in fixing the sentence or in considering any plea for mercy the jury might think fit to make.Being thus instructed, the jury retired, no one in the room leaving or making any move to do so. Such as had been thoughtful enough to bring their lunch, ate it, chatting the while, yet never, except for a moment, taking their eyes off the sad face of the accused, who sat during this trying time, much cast down, it was apparent, at the desperate strait in which he found himself. Thus half an hour passed, when word came that the jury had agreed upon a verdict. At this, Judge Douglas resumed his seat and motioned for the jury to be brought in. As the twelve men filed into the room, I scanned them one by one to see if I might find some hopeful sign, but unavailingly. For, as if having an unpleasant duty to perform, the face of each was filled with perplexity and regret, nor did any one of them look toward Uncle Job. At this, and arguing from it that he was lost, I sprang up, and throwing my arms about his neck, screamed at the top of my voice:"He's innocent! He's innocent! I know he's innocent!"Upon this a great commotion arose, the whole audience getting to their feet, the better to see the prisoner and learn the cause of the disturbance. In the midst of this, and while the sobs of Miss Betty and Constance could be plainly heard, a great noise arose at the entrance to the court, and this growing louder and being accompanied by cries and oaths, every one turned to see what it was all about. This I did not regard, until Uncle Job, standing up, cried out: "My God, Rathe!" Then looking up, I saw Fox and Blott, and back of them Mr. Hayward and the landlord of the Eagle's Nest dragging and pushing Rathe forward into the room. Bringing him bound to the table about which the lawyers sat, Fox stepped aside and whispered to Uncle Job, Mr. Promb joining them. While this was occurring, the jury stood still, not understanding in the least what it meant. Nor the judge any more than they; and at last, leaning forward somewhat impatiently, he commanded the bailiff to enforce order in the court. Moth, all this while, had not stirred, but suspecting what was about to happen, the color left his face and he half arose to his feet. Never have I seen a man more disturbed, but whether his passions were directed toward Rathe or Uncle Job I could not tell; nor did it matter. When some order had been secured, Mr. Promb turned to the court, and in a voice he could scarce make heard, so greatly was he moved, said:"May it please the court, we beg in the interest of justice that the case of the State versus Throckmorton be reopened, as we have important evidence to present, not before obtainable.""What is the nature of the evidence?" Judge Douglas asked, evidently at a loss to understand the meaning of what had occurred."We have here in the person of Rathe one of the men who committed the robbery, Mr. Throckmorton not being in any way concerned in it, as we have claimed all along, and are now able to prove.""I protest, your honor," Moth cried, springing to his feet. "This is a conspiracy of robbers to ruin an honest man and liberate a rogue, and nothing else. A reward is out for the man Fox there for highway robbery. He is nothing but a common bandit, and I call on the court to arrest him here and now.""We will attend to that presently, Mr. Moth," Judge Douglas remarked, holding up his hand to enforce silence. "Meantime, Mr. Promb, the court and jury will hear any testimony you may have to offer, if it is material, as you say.""It is material, your honor; indeed, proves the innocence of the prisoner at the bar. In pursuance of our just rights in the matter, therefore, I desire that Mr. George Fox be called to testify."No further objection being offered, the latter stepping forward and being sworn, Mr. Promb went on:"Now tell the judge and jury, if you please, all you know about this case, and who it was that took the money Mr. Throckmorton is accused of stealing.""It is this way, your honor," Fox went on. "Believing from information I had picked up that Rathe and the outlaw Burke were implicated in the theft, I said as much to these gentlemen with me, telling them, upon their expressing disbelief, that I would prove what I affirmed if they would go with me, and this before they should be called upon to act in any manner. Upon their consenting, we secured a boat, and last night dropped down the river to Black Hawk's abandoned hut, where I had reason to believe the thieves were to divide the proceeds of the robbery. Secreting ourselves where we could see and hear all that occurred, we had not long to wait before Burke appeared, and presently Rathe. Lighting a candle, Burke produced the very packages of money which Mr. Throckmorton is accused of stealing. When, however, he was about to open them for the purpose of dividing the plunder, Rathe, who stood somewhat in the shade, drew a pistol and fired upon him. Burke had not noticed the motion, and when the ball struck him, staggered and partly fell. Not being wholly disabled, he gave a cry and rushed upon Rathe, but the latter evading him, drew a huge knife and plunged it to the hilt in his breast. At this Burke threw up his hands with a groan and fell to the floor dead. All this we saw, and rushing into the room, overcame Rathe, but too late to save Burke. In proof of all I say, your honor, here are the witnesses and there the packages of money, and the knife with which Rathe killed Burke"; saying which, Fox laid the money on the table before him, placing the bowie-knife, the blade of which was black with clotted blood, beside it. "We expected, your honor," Fox went on, as he stepped back, "to have reached here before the trial, but the river being full of ice, were prevented."Moth waiving cross-examination, Mr. Promb called Mr. Hayward, who confirmed Fox's account, after which he turned to the judge, saying the defense had no further testimony to offer. Upon this Judge Douglas turned to Moth and asked if he desired to question the witness, or had any evidence to present. To this Moth only shook his head, not taking his eyes off Rathe. For it was apparent he had believed Uncle Job guilty, and what he now heard fell upon him like a stroke from heaven, as his face clearly showed. Judge Douglas, upon this, turned to the jury, saying they must consider the new evidence with the old; but they, not moving, and all looking toward Uncle Job, spoke up as with one voice: "NOT GUILTY."Bowing to Uncle Job and smiling, Judge Douglas dismissed him, ordering at the same time that Rathe be removed to the jail to await commitment and trial. At this the latter who had not moved, took a step forward, and facing the judge, bowed, saying, as if speaking of some commonplace occurrence:"I admit all that has been said, your honor. There was not enough for two, and so I killed Burke, and a good riddance it is to the community. I am only sorry, however, that it was not the pious Throckmorton instead," he added, turning and looking at Uncle Job. "Burke deserved death, but not more than I, you will say, and truly enough. I intended to kill him when I went to the cabin, and in this way, to illustrate, your honor, and quite simply," Rathe went on, taking up the knife with both hands, his arms being only loosely tied. "As he came toward me, the pistol-shot not proving effective, I drew my knife, and raising it the full length of my arm, buried it to the hilt in his bosom, like this"; and as he concluded, and looking the judge calmly in the face, he plunged the weapon to the handle in his own heart.At first the lookers-on thought he was acting, but when, after a moment, he wavered and fell full length on the floor, there was a cry of horror from all present, many women fainting, and the men staring, not knowing what to make of it.
CHAPTER XXXIX
THE DEPTHS
After breakfast I asked Constance to go with me to see Uncle Job, and her father assenting, we soon reached the jail where he was confined. It was a forlorn-looking place, built of rough logs, strips of wood and plaster filling the intervening spaces. Gaining admission, we found Uncle Job in a cell apart, and so cold and cheerless of aspect that we could scarce restrain our tears at the sight of it. He, not expecting us, was quite upset, but recovering himself, asked us to sit down on the rude bench that half-filled the place and answered for both seat and bed.
"Your faces are like a glimpse of heaven," he exclaimed, putting his arms about us with tender affection.
To this we could make no reply, and for a long time sat bolt upright, holding his hands and gazing at the blank wall before us. At last, mustering some courage, I said:
"I would have been here before, uncle, but have been living at the Blakes', and it was only yesterday that he came home and told us of your trouble."
"Then that is where you have been?" he asked, surprised at what I said.
"Yes," I replied.
"They are kind people, and had I known you were there, I should not have worried about you."
"It was foolish in me to run away, and I'm ashamed of myself; and now more than ever," I answered, unable to say more.
"You need not have feared Moth; and now he is under bonds not to molest you, so there will be no further trouble."
"I am glad of that, though I don't care for him any more. He is a scoundrel and sneak, and I'm going to give him a thrashing when I see him," I answered, and meaning to do as I said.
"That is foolish talk, Gilbert. You must not get into any trouble with him. He is a man to fear and avoid. Wait; time will bring everything out right."
"Yes, we hope so; but Moth deserves a beating just the same for mixing up so much in our affairs," I answered.
"Nothing he attempts against us will succeed," Uncle Job answered, and believing what he said. For he was in all things a very religious man, and did not think it possible that the innocent could suffer wrong.
"What chance have you, Uncle Job, anyway, for we are all worried to death?" I exclaimed at last, my emotion overcoming me.
"The chance an innocent man always has"; saying which he looked into my eyes, as if to read there my inmost thoughts concerning him.
"We know you're innocent, we're sure you are," I answered; "but if they don't believe it and find you guilty?"
"How can I help that, save by telling the truth? There is no other way, for I can't make head or tail of it, and haven't a single witness. Nothing save my word and what men know of me."
"They know nothing but good of you, but who did take the money? You know, I'm sure."
"If I knew, I would say so; but I don't, and so can't accuse any one."
"Then who do you think took it?" I asked, standing up and facing him.
"What I think isn't of any account unless I know and can prove it, and that I can't do."
"Yes, and keeping still, they will convict you!" I cried, stirred out of all patience by his calm assurance.
"I hope not; but there is no other way that I know of, or that others can devise for me, so far as I can see."
"Mr. Seymour says you were drugged."
"I was, but by whom I can't tell; and as regards the money, I know no more about it than Constance here," he exclaimed, laying his hand on her head. At this she burst into tears, and for that matter Uncle Job himself could no longer maintain any semblance of calmness, so great was his distress.
Long we talked, but without any result, for not a thing could I learn likely to afford Fox a clew to work upon. When at last we returned home, much discouraged, we were greatly surprised to find Mr. and Mrs. Blake awaiting us. Mrs. Blake greeted me in the most affectionate way, throwing her arms about my body and holding me against her bosom for a long time without speaking. At last overcoming her agitation, she exclaimed between her sobs:
"How could you leave us in the way you did, Gilbert; and the horror of it, too! You can never know, you foolish boy, how my heart sank when I found you were out in that dreadful storm. How could you have been so cruel?" and stopping, she held me from her, as if to assure herself that it was I and no one else she clasped in her arms.
"I had no thought of the storm or that I ran any risk. Indeed, it was not so bad, after all, for when I reached the Eagle's Nest I found supper and a warm bed. I'm not a bit the worse, you see, for the journey; but I'm sorry to have caused you so much anxiety and trouble, and hope you'll forgive me," I answered, much cast down at her distress.
"I never saw a storm so fierce and wild. We scarce slept for the cold and rocking of the house in the wind; and when, late in the night, I went to your room to see how you were getting on, I thought I should have died when I found you gone and your bed untouched. Sitting about until there was a bit of light, we started after you, stopping, with our hearts in our mouths, to stir every mound of snow by the wayside, expecting to find your body beneath it. Oh, it was dreadful!"
"Oh, Gilbert, you never told us a word of this," Constance cried, coming to my side. "How could you have kept it back?"
"It was not nearly so bad as Mrs. Blake thinks, Constance. I reached the tavern all right, and in a little while was as good as new. If the night hadn't turned out as it did, I would have been here by twelve o'clock, and none the worse for the tramp, either."
"Yes, but think, Miss Constance, of his being in the forest alone, and on such a night and clad as he was! We will always blame ourselves for not bringing him here yesterday, as he implored us to do."
"Please don't talk of it any more, I love you so much!" I cried out at last. "I couldn't help doing what I did."
"I know you couldn't; and we are happy in finding you alive and well. You will go back with us, or if not now, when your uncle's trouble is fixed up, as we hope and pray it will be soon. You know we love you as if you were our own son."
"That we do, Gilbert, and wish you to live with us always," Mr. Blake now broke in for the first time.
"Sweet lady," Mr. Seymour here interposed, coming forward and taking Mrs. Blake's hand and kissing it reverently as a son might, "I want to thank you and Mr. Blake for your kindness to Gilbert and love for him; and I am made happy, madam, by having an insight into a heart so affectionate and true and every way worthy of regard. Gilbert is as my own son, and I kiss your hand again, madam, to show my respect and love for you," and Mr. Seymour bent over and lifted her hand to his lips with as much deference as he would have shown his queen. Constance, who had stood by with tears dimming her eyes, now put her soft arms about Mrs. Blake and embraced and kissed her, as if she could not show plainly enough how much she loved her for her tender heart.
As the Blakes had left home without their breakfast, and it was now midday, Constance ordered luncheon spread for them in the Treasury, and while they were satisfying their hunger we sat about or waited upon them with loving attention. Afterward, as they could not be prevailed upon to stop longer, Constance and I went with them to the edge of the town, where we watched till they were out of sight. When it was dark, I went to meet Fox, as we had agreed, but without hope, so little had I been able to learn that would be of use to him. He was there before me, and upon hearing my voice, which I could by no means render cheerful, cried out in great spirits:
"Don't be downhearted, you little vagrant, but tell me all you have found out, not forgetting the smallest thing, as I told you. It is in some trifle that the rogues always give themselves away, the thief-catchers say. I ought to have been a constable, and not a preacher, my boy," he went on; with cheerful unconcern; "but many a good man has made a like mistake. It shows, you see, how little we know what we are good for when young. Come now, commence at the beginning and tell me what you have discovered, and take your time about it, for there is no hurry."
Thus encouraged, I told him all I had found out, not omitting anything I could remember, however trifling.
"So Miss Constance thinks Rathe is the thief, does she? A bright girl, I'll wager; but why does she think that?" he asked, when I had concluded.
"Because neither of us like him, and because he and Mr. Seymour were the only ones there when the money was sealed up the evening before the robbery."
"So they sealed it up, did they? What was that for, I wonder?"
"I don't know, unless to make sure."
"Well, it was business-like, anyway; but Miss Constance must have some other reason for disliking Rathe?"
"Yes, because he and Uncle Job are rivals."
"Rivals! rivals! For what, I'd like to know?"
"For Miss Betty's favor."
"What is that you are saying? Pray, who is Miss Betty?"
"Miss Betty Singleton, a young lady in Appletop."
"How long have they been rivals?"
"I don't know, but before I came here."
"Well, this is what I call gossip, Gilbert, and makes me feel as if I were in Boston again. We ought to have a cup of tea and a bit of toast and a cozy fire to enjoy it fully, though. Which of the suitors, pray, does Miss Betty favor—your uncle or the other man?"
"Uncle Job, Constance thinks."
"I'll bet she is right, too, if Miss Betty is a girl of sense, and she is or your uncle wouldn't care for her. So the rivalry has been on for a long time—before you had that scare in Murderer's Hollow, probably?"
"Yes, long before that."
"Well, you have a fine ear for gossip, Gilbert, if you are not much of a detective. Let me see now," he went on, "if I have everything straight"; and with that he began to question me afresh about the robbery, and the money, and the shape it was in, and how and where Uncle Job lived, and about his business and love affair, and a thousand other things of which I could see no point whatever.
"You have not told me when the trial is to come off," he exclaimed, finally, "or isn't that decided yet?"
"In three days from now."
"Whew! but they are speedy! Let me see, the robbery happened eight days ago. That is hardly giving him time to turn around."
"That's what I think, but Mr. Seymour says it's the way, and that Uncle Job wishes it hurried," I answered.
"Yes; and it's as good a way as any. The sooner men are tried and afforded a chance to prove their innocence, or stand convicted, the more likely justice is to be done. Only time enough should be given to get together the evidence. More than that is a trick."
"Enough time hasn't been allowed Uncle Job," I answered, "for there's only three days more, and nothing has been done."
"I don't know. A good many things might happen in three days, Gilbert; so don't be too downhearted. Go back to town and see what more you can learn, and don't forget to spy out what Moth and the constable are doing. Then come here the second night from this, crammed with news, and I will be here to meet you. You are sure, though, that you have told me everything you have heard?" he added.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Well, then, if that is all, give me your hand and I will help you to a ride to town."
On our way back he sought to cheer me up, but not with much success, for I could see no loophole by which Uncle Job could escape, so closely was the web drawn about him—unless, indeed, his good name should serve him with the jury, as he thought; but of this I had not much hope, so greatly did I fear Moth's misrepresentations and sarcasm of speech.
The next day, when on my way to visit Uncle Job, I met Blott as he was leaving the jail. Jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Uncle Job's cell, he remarked, in his slow way:
"He's in the spider's web, sure; Pickle's got him, the little ant!"
"Yes," I cried; "and he is the man who saved your life. Now he's in trouble why don't you save him, and pay your debt?" I asked, in a heat.
"There's nothin' in the world I wouldn't do to help him. He saved my life an' saved me from other things worse'n dyin'," Blott answered, mournfully. "I could git him out of jail easy enough, if that was all, an' offered to, but he won't budge."
"I spoke without thinking, Blott," I answered, ashamed of myself; "but he is in trouble, and needs friends, and hasn't any."
"He's lots of friends, an' that's all the good it does; but the Lord ain't goin' to let a man like him be eaten up by moths, I don't believe, though how he's to be saved I don't see."
"Can't anything be done?" I asked, in despair.
"Not as it appears now; but be cheerf, Gilbert, be cheerf. It'll all come out right in the end, an' truth'll triumph, if what the Sunday-school teachers preach is true. To make sure, though, git your uncle into the idea of movin', an' I'll have him clear of the place an' out of the country in twenty-four hours"; saying which, Blott wrung my hand and hurried away, as if not daring to trust himself to speak further.
Save what I have related, the two days passed without my being able to find out anything new or of interest to Fox. Upon my going to the meeting-place, as we had agreed, however, he was not there, nor did he come. This I could not account for, unless, indeed, he was discouraged like the others, and seeing no hope for Uncle Job had avoided meeting me. This I thought was the case, but waiting until midnight, I at last returned home, worn and discouraged, without one comforting thought regarding the trial to come off the following day.
CHAPTER XL
JOB THROCKMORTON'S TRIAL: THE TRAGEDY
The next morning I arose at break of day and hastened to the jail, to be with Uncle Job to comfort him in some measure, if that were possible, before going to the place of trial. Afterward, seated beside him in the crowded courtroom, I looked about, to see Miss Betty a few feet away, her eyes red and swollen, as if she had grieved much and slept but little. All the fun was clean gone out of the poor thing, and in its place nothing but sorrow and deep anxiety. Her face, too, always so rosy and smiling, was now pale and drawn, giving her the look of being much older than she was. Meeting my gaze, she smiled upon me, as if in gratitude for my being there. Constance sat beside her, and when I caught her eye her face lighted, and this I knew to comfort me and give me courage to abide the end, whatever it might be. Except these two and Setti, who sat next to Constance, no friendly look met mine. Surely, I thought, some of our friends might have come, or was our cause so desperate that every one stayed away to hide their grief at the end they so clearly foresaw?
Uncle Job bore himself like the fine gentleman he was, neither courting nor shunning the eye of any one when he entered the room. Bowing politely to those who recognized him, he passed others who avoided acquaintanceship with the grace of unconsciousness that only well-bred people possess. This happening led me to believe then and this belief has only been strengthened by time, that no good man or woman ever can refuse to recognize another whom they by chance know, however humble or obscure, unless such person has been convicted of some crime that shames our morals. Only the smaller parasites and hangers-on of social life, I am assured, can commit such an offense against good manners. Uncle Job, however, did not appear cast down by what he saw, though craving kindly sympathy and being a man who would have freely offered it under like circumstances.
Moth sat near by, looking pinched and meaner than ever, I thought, though his appearance was always inferior to that of other men. The cunning look he gave me from out his deep-set eyes when I glanced his way I pretended not to see, so greatly did I loathe the man. Looking beyond to the jury, I could not make them out, unless, indeed, they had the air of expecting a treat, for which pay was to be forthcoming, rather than having a duty to perform. Being men tanned in the sun and simple of habit, however, I could not tell. Mr. Promb, Uncle Job's lawyer, sat beside Moth, and suffered greatly, I thought, in comparison with that saffron-faced and eager-eyed man. Otherwise he was wholesome to look upon, and without doubt much the better man of the two. If Uncle Job could but have had Mr. Lincoln to plead his cause, I mourned, as we sat waiting, there would then be no need to borrow trouble. His innocence would be made clear as noonday to every one by the honesty and God-like persuasiveness of his advocate. Alas! neither he nor any other fit person for occasion so great could be had, and Uncle Job must, perforce, suffer whatever fate befell him.
Mr. Seymour had thought it greatly in Uncle Job's favor that the trial was to be before Judge Douglas, a rising man, already much spoken of in the state because of the brilliancy of his mind and his vast comprehension of the world and its affairs. This truly great man was, at the time of which I speak, just beginning the wonderful career that for many years made him a power in the land and known of men far and near, all finally to culminate in his strivings after the presidency with Mr. Lincoln and his death at an early day thereafter. Of his greatness, however, soon to be proven in the Senate and elsewhere, only the more discerning had then, any inkling.[*]
[*] The Statesman Gilbert Holmes here refers to was Stephen A. Douglas, called "The Little Giant" because of his sturdy form and the strength of his intellect. Judge Douglas was afterward for many years United States Senator from Illinois, and prominent in the politics of our country immediately preceding the great Civil War. In 1860 he was a candidate for President with Lincoln and Breckenridge, and upon the opening of the war, in 1861, generously came forward and offered Mr. Lincoln his support and that of his adherents. This act of unsolicited patriotism proved of incalculable benefit then and afterward to the President and the Union.—THE AUTHOR.
With the arrival of the hour set apart, the clerk arose and called the trial, and loudly, as if the matter were unexpected and notice now given for the first time. No sooner did he cease and the prisoner had answered "Not guilty," than Moth arose, with great show of deference to the judge and jury.
"May it please the honorable court and this intelligent jury," he went on, "I appear here on behalf of the people to aid in the punishment of a monstrous crime—a crime conceived in cunning and lust of wealth by one who before stood high in the estimation of many good men. You will notice I do not say all good men, and in this qualification I speak advisedly. Many have never believed the prisoner honest; I never have, and for good reason. He is young, of aspiring nature, of unknown antecedents, and greedy of preferment and gain. This latter some of you may have known before, but it is well to again call it to your attention. His downcast look and the lean and covetous lines about his face tell a story of duplicity and cunning no intelligent man, least of all a jury so circumspect as this, can mistake," and Moth looked with lowering eyes upon Uncle Job, whose countenance, truth to say, was neither lowering nor covetous, but open and manly as one could wish. Then turning to the jury, he cried, waving his hand: "I do not ask you to believe me. Look for yourselves, gentlemen."
"I object to this line of procedure, your honor, in advance of the evidence," Mr. Promb broke in, with considerable spirit, "as being likely to prejudice the case of my client, and wrongfully."
"The attorney for the state will confine himself to the line of evidence he proposes to present. The jury may properly be left to form their own opinion of the prisoner's personal appearance," Judge Douglas responded, with some severity.
"Very well, your honor; but it is impossible to prejudice a case so plain to all men as this will be made to appear further on. Restricting myself, however, as you justly observe, we shall prove all that I have intimated and more. We will prove that a sum of money, great enough to tempt the cupidity of a weak man, such as the prisoner at the bar, was left in his care, and that taking advantage of the confidence reposed in him, he deliberately and feloniously and with malice aforethought made away with it, to his own advantage and the detriment of his patron and the good morals of society. All this we will prove, may it please your honor and the honorable jury."
When Moth concluded, Mr. Promb arose, but only to excuse himself from addressing the court at this stage of the proceedings. Whereupon Moth sprang to his feet again and asked that Mr. Henry Seymour, a friend of the prisoner, be sworn. When thus called, Mr. Seymour, who sat some way off, arose and made his way to the witness-stand, all eyes turned expectantly upon him, as if he, too, might possibly be guilty, being a friend of the accused. Passing Uncle Job, the latter smiled upon him as if in assurance of unalterable good will, whatever his testimony might be. When Mr. Seymour had been sworn, Moth proceeded:
"Were you present in the office of Throckmorton & Rathe on the evening when the sum of money stolen, amounting to about ten thousand dollars, was intrusted to the personal care of Job Throckmorton for safe-keeping over night?"
"I was."
"Did the said Throckmorton receive the money?"
"He did."
"Did he not volunteer to perform this service without solicitation from anyone? Nay, did he not insist upon assuming the care of the money when Mr. Rathe asked to be allowed to perform the duty?" Moth went on.
"I do not understand that Rathe did more than volunteer to take charge of the money."
"Answer my question, yes or no. Did not the prisoner insist upon remaining at the office to guard the money?"
Upon this the witness turned to the judge, as if seeking guidance, and the latter nodding assent, Mr. Seymour answered, but with manifest reluctance, it was plain:
"He did."
"Afterward, on the following morning, when the money had been stolen, what reason did Throckmorton give for its loss? Did he not claim he had been drugged?" Moth asked, looking toward the jury rather than at the witness.
"He did; and what he claimed I verily believe," Mr. Seymour answered, with great promptness.
"I did not ask you what you believed; it is of no consequence, either here or elsewhere. The prisoner lives with you, I understand, and pays you for his board and lodging, and naturally, and because of this, you would believe anything he said," Moth answered, addressing the jury.
"I call on the court to protect me from the insinuations of this mountebank," Mr. Seymour cried, very red in the face, turning to the judge.
"I call on the court to fine and imprison the witness for the use of an epithet so uncalled for and so little in harmony with the dignity of the place and the honorable judge and jury," Moth answered, loudly, and as if grieved and humiliated beyond expression.
"The attorney for the state will go on with the case, confining himself to its merits and the evidence in hand," Judge Douglas commanded, addressing Moth.
"The witness having testified to the truth of what we look to to prove the guilt of the prisoner, I have, your honor, no further questions to ask him," Moth concluded.
Upon Mr. Promb's intimating that he did not desire to cross-examine Mr. Seymour, Moth asked that Mr. Philetus Tipps be called.
This gentleman, who sat near Moth, arose upon his name being thus announced, and doing so lifted his eyes, as if to economize time in taking the oath, in pursuance of a habit long acquired. Mr. Tipps' presence was not commanding, though a tuft of hair standing upright on the edge of his narrow forehead served to augment his height and add to the dignity of his manner; it also gave him a somewhat fierce look, in which an air of alertness blended. Altogether his manner conveyed an idea of weariness, as if he were going through a ceremony often repeated and of little or no interest to him in the first instance. Contrary to what one would suppose of a person performing the office of constable, Mr. Tipps' body was nothing to speak of, being so slight that he might easily have slipped between the rails of a common fence without injury to his raiment. This, however, did not apply to his feet, which were much spread abroad, as if by long waiting and standing about the corridors of justice. It was also a peculiarity of Mr. Tipps that in raising his eyes to take the oath he did not look upward, but at an angle, as if the Being he appealed to dwelt somewhere on the horizon. This, however, was a device merely, it was apparent, to save labor and conserve his strength, and not at all as indicating the presence of the Deity in that particular place. Of these interesting details Moth took no account, but taking the witness in hand, as if he were a lemon or pomegranate ripe for squeezing, demanded of him, in a peremptory way:
"What is your name and residence?"
"Philetus Tipps, of Rock Island."
"What is your business?"
"Constable."
"Have you been looking up evidence in the case of the StateversusThrockmorton?"
"I have."
"In such investigation have you discovered evidence of the presence of chloroform in the office of Throckmorton & Rathe, and likely to have been there on the night of the robbery?"
"I have," Tipps answered.
"In what shape, may I ask?"
"In the shape of a bottle partly filled with that substance."
"Indeed! Where, may I ask, did you discover this bottle?" Moth inquired, as if hearing of it now for the first time.
"I found it hidden away under the stairway off the room in which Throckmorton slept on the night of the robbery."
"Have you the bottle with you?"
"I have."
"I ask that you deliver it to the clerk of the court"; and upon his complying, Moth turned to the judge, saying he had no further questions to ask the witness. Cross-examination being waived, as in the case of Mr. Seymour, Moth asked that Augustus Collygog be called, which being done that gentleman stepped forward to be sworn. Mr. Collygog was a slender, clerical man, with pale face and considerable particularity of dress, having about him the look of one accustomed to handle delicate things, and such as might on occasion pertain to men's lives or matters of that nature. When he had taken the oath, which he did solemnly and as if determined to be strictly accurate in all he said, Moth asked:
"You are a druggist, are you not?"
"Yes, sir, a druggist; or, excuse me, more appropriately speaking, perhaps, an apothecary," Mr. Collygog replied, without relaxing the fixed expression of his face.
"You keep a drugstore?"
"Ha! yes, a drugstore; or, you will excuse me, sir, more properly a pharmacy," he answered, nursing the feeble whiskers that grew on his sunken cheeks.
"Where is your place?"
"In Appletop, sir, and directly over the way, facing the Galena road, if you please, and convenient from every part of the city."
"You fill prescriptions and orders for medicine and things of that kind?" Moth asked.
"Yes, and a very delicate duty and requiring circumspection. Yes, certainly, requiring circumspection—and much experience," Mr. Collygog replied, as if deriving great personal satisfaction from what he said.
"Will you look at the bottle partly filled with chloroform, in the possession of the clerk of the court, and tell me if it was put up at your shop?"
"Yes, to be sure, at my pharmacy, if you please," the witness answered, after carefully examining the bottle from different points of view.
"You are sure?" Moth asked, sternly.
"Oh, dear me, yes, quite sure! The bottle bears my label, as you may see: 'Doctor Augustus Collygog, Pharmacist and Dealer in Surgical Instruments and Small Notions, Appletop, Illinois.'"
"Who procured it of you?" Moth asked.
"Who? Oh, excuse me, sir; but the secrets of the profession are sacred—sacred, sir."
At this Moth turned to the judge, but the latter, not waiting, said:
"The witness must answer the question."
"Thank you, Judge, if I must; but only on compulsion."
"Well, who was it?" Moth asked, impatiently.
"Ha! yes. Who was what?" Doctor Collygog answered, losing the thread of the examination.
"Who was it that bought the stuff of you?" Moth screamed at the top of his voice.
"Oh, yes, I understand; but not quite so loud, if you please, sir. It was Mr. Job Throckmorton."
"That will do. If you please, your honor, the state rests here, confident of having proven its case and steadfastly believing in the intelligence of the honorable jury called to pass upon the testimony. Indeed, it is so plain, that I should waste your time with explanations. Having bought the chloroform and sprinkled it about his bed, Throckmorton hid what remained. Through the happy chance of finding the half-filled bottle where he placed it, however, the whole scheme is made clear, and his identity as the robber proven beyond the shadow of a doubt."
Upon Moth's concluding, Mr. Promb arose, and facing the last witness, asked:
"When did Mr. Throckmorton procure this medicine of you?"
"Yes, Mr. Promb. Let me see; in September, I think, or possibly—I do not say positively—in the fore part of October. The books of My House will show."
"Did he say what he wanted it for?"
"I think not; but indeed I might be mistaken in this, it not being thought material in his case, he being a man grown and responsible."
"Did he not say it was for his nephew, who was ill at the Dragon?"
"Ha! I think not, Mr. Promb; but, dear me, I can't be certain, as I have just said."
"That is all. May it please your honor, we should like to have Mr. Seymour recalled"; and upon this being done, Mr. Promb asked:
"Do you recognize this bottle?"
"I do," answered Mr. Seymour.
"For what purpose did Mr. Throckmorton procure the chloroform it contains?"
"For his nephew, then sick at my house."
"Was it so used?" Mr. Promb asked.
"It was, to my personal knowledge."
"When?"
"About the time stated by Mr. Collygog."
After this, Mr. Promb recalled Tipps, who arose, with hand uplifted and eyes raised obliquely as before, but nothing came of his re-examination. After him many other men, all reputable and of good standing in the community, were summoned by Mr. Promb to prove the prisoner's high character; and with this, and a fine speech, but lacking force, I thought, Uncle Job's attorney closed the defense. Upon this, Moth asked that Mr. Seymour be recalled, and when this had been done, he asked:
"After the recovery of Mr. Throckmorton's nephew, what was done with the bottle of chloroform?"
"I do not know."
"Who would know?" Moth asked.
"The servants, or perhaps my daughter."
"That is all," Moth responded; "I desire that Miss Constance Seymour be called, your honor."
She not moving, nor seeming able to move, her father went to her, and taking her hand, led her forward, speaking encouragingly as they made their way through the crowded room.
"What is your name?" Moth asked, upon her being sworn.
"Constance Seymour."
"Do you recognize this bottle, Miss Constance?" Moth asked, and with every show of gentleness and respect, I am bound to say, for which I could not help but feel grateful to the scoundrel.
"Yes, sir."
"What was done with it after Gilbert Holmes' illness?" Moth asked.
To this Constance did not reply, nor would she until Judge Douglas, leaning forward, said, with a smile of encouragement, that she must answer the question.
"I placed it in Mr. Throckmorton's room," she replied at last, trembling, and scarce above a whisper.
"You placed it in Mr. Throckmorton's room? Thank you; that will do," Moth said, looking toward the jury, as if they must certainly now confirm his belief that he had proven Uncle Job's guilt beyond the shadow of a doubt. "Your honor, I submit the case without further statement," he went on, "having fully proven that Throckmorton is the thief, and no one else"; saying which, he bowed and sank into his seat with a complacent smile.
Upon this Mr. Promb conferred for a long while with Uncle Job, urging upon him something he would by no means consent to, but of what nature I could not tell. Afterward, turning to the judge, he said:
"The defense also rests its case here, desiring only to point out to the honorable court and jury that in all his life, and in every affair of business in which he has been engaged, and they have been many, Mr. Throckmorton has borne an honorable character before men, no shadow of any kind resting upon it. We hold, and in this we believe the jury will agree, that because of his good name and unimpeachable integrity it is impossible he could have committed the crime imputed to him. There is a mystery connected with the case, we admit, that we cannot now fathom, but feel assured that time will do this, and ere long, and to your entire satisfaction and that of the community. In the confident belief that this is so, he throws himself upon your mercy, believing that the knowledge you have of men and how little likely they are to go wrong when all their lives have been animated by honorable acts, will be found sufficient to justify his acquittal—nay, to command it of you as a right."
The trial being thus closed, Judge Douglas arose to charge the jury, and doing so, pointed out that they must be governed in all things by the testimony, but that if adverse to the prisoner, his previous good character might of right be considered in fixing the sentence or in considering any plea for mercy the jury might think fit to make.
Being thus instructed, the jury retired, no one in the room leaving or making any move to do so. Such as had been thoughtful enough to bring their lunch, ate it, chatting the while, yet never, except for a moment, taking their eyes off the sad face of the accused, who sat during this trying time, much cast down, it was apparent, at the desperate strait in which he found himself. Thus half an hour passed, when word came that the jury had agreed upon a verdict. At this, Judge Douglas resumed his seat and motioned for the jury to be brought in. As the twelve men filed into the room, I scanned them one by one to see if I might find some hopeful sign, but unavailingly. For, as if having an unpleasant duty to perform, the face of each was filled with perplexity and regret, nor did any one of them look toward Uncle Job. At this, and arguing from it that he was lost, I sprang up, and throwing my arms about his neck, screamed at the top of my voice:
"He's innocent! He's innocent! I know he's innocent!"
Upon this a great commotion arose, the whole audience getting to their feet, the better to see the prisoner and learn the cause of the disturbance. In the midst of this, and while the sobs of Miss Betty and Constance could be plainly heard, a great noise arose at the entrance to the court, and this growing louder and being accompanied by cries and oaths, every one turned to see what it was all about. This I did not regard, until Uncle Job, standing up, cried out: "My God, Rathe!" Then looking up, I saw Fox and Blott, and back of them Mr. Hayward and the landlord of the Eagle's Nest dragging and pushing Rathe forward into the room. Bringing him bound to the table about which the lawyers sat, Fox stepped aside and whispered to Uncle Job, Mr. Promb joining them. While this was occurring, the jury stood still, not understanding in the least what it meant. Nor the judge any more than they; and at last, leaning forward somewhat impatiently, he commanded the bailiff to enforce order in the court. Moth, all this while, had not stirred, but suspecting what was about to happen, the color left his face and he half arose to his feet. Never have I seen a man more disturbed, but whether his passions were directed toward Rathe or Uncle Job I could not tell; nor did it matter. When some order had been secured, Mr. Promb turned to the court, and in a voice he could scarce make heard, so greatly was he moved, said:
"May it please the court, we beg in the interest of justice that the case of the State versus Throckmorton be reopened, as we have important evidence to present, not before obtainable."
"What is the nature of the evidence?" Judge Douglas asked, evidently at a loss to understand the meaning of what had occurred.
"We have here in the person of Rathe one of the men who committed the robbery, Mr. Throckmorton not being in any way concerned in it, as we have claimed all along, and are now able to prove."
"I protest, your honor," Moth cried, springing to his feet. "This is a conspiracy of robbers to ruin an honest man and liberate a rogue, and nothing else. A reward is out for the man Fox there for highway robbery. He is nothing but a common bandit, and I call on the court to arrest him here and now."
"We will attend to that presently, Mr. Moth," Judge Douglas remarked, holding up his hand to enforce silence. "Meantime, Mr. Promb, the court and jury will hear any testimony you may have to offer, if it is material, as you say."
"It is material, your honor; indeed, proves the innocence of the prisoner at the bar. In pursuance of our just rights in the matter, therefore, I desire that Mr. George Fox be called to testify."
No further objection being offered, the latter stepping forward and being sworn, Mr. Promb went on:
"Now tell the judge and jury, if you please, all you know about this case, and who it was that took the money Mr. Throckmorton is accused of stealing."
"It is this way, your honor," Fox went on. "Believing from information I had picked up that Rathe and the outlaw Burke were implicated in the theft, I said as much to these gentlemen with me, telling them, upon their expressing disbelief, that I would prove what I affirmed if they would go with me, and this before they should be called upon to act in any manner. Upon their consenting, we secured a boat, and last night dropped down the river to Black Hawk's abandoned hut, where I had reason to believe the thieves were to divide the proceeds of the robbery. Secreting ourselves where we could see and hear all that occurred, we had not long to wait before Burke appeared, and presently Rathe. Lighting a candle, Burke produced the very packages of money which Mr. Throckmorton is accused of stealing. When, however, he was about to open them for the purpose of dividing the plunder, Rathe, who stood somewhat in the shade, drew a pistol and fired upon him. Burke had not noticed the motion, and when the ball struck him, staggered and partly fell. Not being wholly disabled, he gave a cry and rushed upon Rathe, but the latter evading him, drew a huge knife and plunged it to the hilt in his breast. At this Burke threw up his hands with a groan and fell to the floor dead. All this we saw, and rushing into the room, overcame Rathe, but too late to save Burke. In proof of all I say, your honor, here are the witnesses and there the packages of money, and the knife with which Rathe killed Burke"; saying which, Fox laid the money on the table before him, placing the bowie-knife, the blade of which was black with clotted blood, beside it. "We expected, your honor," Fox went on, as he stepped back, "to have reached here before the trial, but the river being full of ice, were prevented."
Moth waiving cross-examination, Mr. Promb called Mr. Hayward, who confirmed Fox's account, after which he turned to the judge, saying the defense had no further testimony to offer. Upon this Judge Douglas turned to Moth and asked if he desired to question the witness, or had any evidence to present. To this Moth only shook his head, not taking his eyes off Rathe. For it was apparent he had believed Uncle Job guilty, and what he now heard fell upon him like a stroke from heaven, as his face clearly showed. Judge Douglas, upon this, turned to the jury, saying they must consider the new evidence with the old; but they, not moving, and all looking toward Uncle Job, spoke up as with one voice: "NOT GUILTY."
Bowing to Uncle Job and smiling, Judge Douglas dismissed him, ordering at the same time that Rathe be removed to the jail to await commitment and trial. At this the latter who had not moved, took a step forward, and facing the judge, bowed, saying, as if speaking of some commonplace occurrence:
"I admit all that has been said, your honor. There was not enough for two, and so I killed Burke, and a good riddance it is to the community. I am only sorry, however, that it was not the pious Throckmorton instead," he added, turning and looking at Uncle Job. "Burke deserved death, but not more than I, you will say, and truly enough. I intended to kill him when I went to the cabin, and in this way, to illustrate, your honor, and quite simply," Rathe went on, taking up the knife with both hands, his arms being only loosely tied. "As he came toward me, the pistol-shot not proving effective, I drew my knife, and raising it the full length of my arm, buried it to the hilt in his bosom, like this"; and as he concluded, and looking the judge calmly in the face, he plunged the weapon to the handle in his own heart.
At first the lookers-on thought he was acting, but when, after a moment, he wavered and fell full length on the floor, there was a cry of horror from all present, many women fainting, and the men staring, not knowing what to make of it.