CHAPTER XVIII.
“Thou hast already racked me with thy stay;Therefore require me not to ask thee twice:Reply at once to all. What is concluded?”Mourning Bride.
“Thou hast already racked me with thy stay;Therefore require me not to ask thee twice:Reply at once to all. What is concluded?”Mourning Bride.
“Thou hast already racked me with thy stay;Therefore require me not to ask thee twice:Reply at once to all. What is concluded?”Mourning Bride.
“Thou hast already racked me with thy stay;
Therefore require me not to ask thee twice:
Reply at once to all. What is concluded?”
Mourning Bride.
During the interval between the occurrence of the scene in court that has just been related, and the appearance of Dunscomb at Biberry, the community was rapidly taking sides on the subject of the guilt or innocence of Mary Monson. The windows of the gaol were crowded all day; throngs collecting there to catch glimpses of the extraordinary female, who was rightly enough reported to be living in a species of luxury in so unusual a place, and who was known to play on an instrument that the popular mind was a good deal disposed to regard as sacred. As a matter of course, a hundred stories were in circulation, touching the character, history, sayings and doings of this remarkable person, that had no foundation whatever in truth; for it is an infirmity of human nature to circulate and place its belief in falsehoods of this sort; and more especially of human nature as it is exhibited in a country where care has been taken to stimulate the curiosity of the vulgar, without exactly placing them in a condition to appease its longings, either intelligently or in a very good taste.
This interest would have been manifested, in such a case, had there been no particular moving cause; but the secret practices of Williams and Timms greatly increased its intensity, and was bringing the population of Duke’s to a state of excitement that was very little favourable to an impartial administration of justice.Discussions had taken place at every corner, and in all the bar-rooms; and many were the alleged facts connected with the murders, which had their sole existence in rumour, that was adduced in the heat of argument, or to make out a supposititious case. All this time, Williams was either in court, attending closely to his different causes, or was seen passing between the court-house and the tavern, with bundles of papers under his arms, like a man absorbed in business. Timms played a very similar part, thoughhefound leisure to hold divers conferences with several of his confidential agents. Testimony was his aim; and, half a dozen times, when he fancied himself on the point of establishing something new and important, the whole of the ingenious fabric he had reared came tumbling about his ears, in consequence of some radical defect in the foundation.
Such was the state of things on the evening of Wednesday, the day preceding that which had been set down for the trial, when the stage arrived bringing “’Squire Dunscomb,” his carpet-bags, his trunk, and his books. McBrain shortly after drove up in his own carriage; and Anna was soon in her mother’s arms. The excitement, so general in the place, had naturally enough extended to these females; and Mrs. McBrain and her daughter were soon closeted, talking over the affair of Mary Monson.
About eight that evening, Dunscomb and Timms were busy, looking over minutes of testimony, briefs, and other written documents that were connected with the approaching trial. Mrs. Horton had reserved the best room in her house for this distinguished counsel; an apartment in a wing that was a good deal removed from the noise and bustle of a leading inn, during a circuit. Here Dunscomb had been duly installed, and here he early set up “his traps,” as he termed his flesh-brushes, sponges, briefs, and calfskin-covered volumes. Two tallow candles threw a dim, lawyer-like light on the scene; while unrolled paper-curtains shut out as much of night as such an imperfect screenwould exclude. The odour of segars—excellent Havannas, by the way—was fragrant in the place; and one of the little fountains of smoke was stuck knowingly in a corner of the eminent counsel’s mouth, while Timms had garnished his skinny lips with the short stump of a pipe. Neither said anything; one of the parties presenting documents that the other read in silence. Such was the state of matters, when a slight tap at the door was succeeded by the unexpected appearance of “saucy Williams.” Timms started, gathered together all his papers with the utmost care, and awaited the explanation of this unlooked-for visit with the most lively curiosity. Dunscomb, on the other hand, received his guest with urbanity, and like one who felt that the wrangling of the bar, in which, by the way, he had too much self-respect and good temper to indulge, had no necessary connection with the courtesies of private life.
Williams had scarcely a claim superior to those of Timms, to be considered a gentleman; though he had the advantage of having been what is termed liberally educated—a phrase of very doubtful import, when put to the test of old-fashioned notions on such subjects. In manners, he had the defects, and we may add the merits, of the school in which he had been educated. All that has been said of Timms on this subject, in the way of censure, was equally applicable to Williams; but the last possessed a self-command, an admirable reliance on his own qualities, which would have fitted him, as regards this one quality, to be an emperor. Foreigners wonder at the self-possession of Americans in the presence of the great; and it is really one of the merits of the institutions that it causes every person to feel that he is a man, and entitled to receive the treatment due to a being so high in the scale of earthly creations. It is true, that this feeling often degenerates into a vulgar and over-sensitive jealousy, frequently rendering its possessor exacting and ridiculous; but, on the whole, the effect is manly, not to say ennobling.
Now, Williams was self-possessed by nature, as well as by association and education. Though keenly alive to the differences and chances of fortune, he never succumbed to mere rank and wealth. Intriguing by disposition, not to say by education, he could affect a deference he did not feel; but, apart from the positive consequences of power, he was not to be daunted by the presence of the most magnificent sovereign who everreigned.reigned.No wonder, then, that he felt quite at home in the company of his present host; though fully aware that he was one of the leading members of the New York bar. As a proof of this independence may be cited the fact that he had no sooner paid his salutations and been invited to be seated, than he deliberately selected a segar from the open box of Dunscomb, lighted it, took a chair, raised one leg coolly on the corner of a table, and began to smoke.
“The calendar is a little crowded,” observed this free-and-easy visiter, “and is likely to carry us over into the middle of next week. Are you retained in Daniels against Fireman’s Insurance?”
“I am not—a brief was offered by the plaintiff, but I declined taking it.”
“A little conscientious, I suppose. Well, I leave all the sin of my suits on the shoulders of my clients. It is bad enough tolistento their griefs, without being called on tosmartfor them. I have heard you are in Cogswell against Davidson?”
“In that cause I have been retained. I may as well say, at once, we intend to move it on.”
“It’s of no great moment—if you beat us at the circuit, our turn will come on execution.”
“I believe, Mr. Williams, your clients have a knack at gaining the day in that mode. It is of no great interest to me, however, as I rarely take the management of a cause after it quits the courts.”
“How do you like the Code, brother Dunscomb?”
“Damnable, sir. I am too old, in the first place, to like change. Then change from bad to worse is adding folly to imbecility. The Common Law practice had its faults, I allow; but this new system has no merits.”
“I do not go as far as that; and I rather begin to like the new plan of remuneration. We are nothing out of pocket, and sometimes are a handsome sum in. You defend Mary Monson?”
Timms felt assured that his old antagonist had now reached the case that had really brought him to the room. He fidgeted, looked eagerly round to see that no stray paper could fall beneath the hawk-like eye of the other party, and then sat in comparative composure, waiting the result.
“I do,” Dunscomb quietly replied; “and I shall do itcon amore—I suppose you know what that means, Mr. Williams?”
A sarcastic smile passed over the steeled countenance of the other, his appearance being literally sardonic for an instant.
“I presume I do. We know enough Latin in Duke’s to get along with such a quotation; though our friend Timms here despises the classics.‘Con amore’means, in this instance, a ‘lover’s zeal,’ I suppose; for they tell me that all who approach the criminal submits to her power to charm.”
“Theaccused, if you please,” put in the opposing attorney; “but nocriminal, until the word ‘guilty’ has been pronounced.”
“I am convicted. They say you are to be the happy man, Timms, in the event of an acquittal. It is reported all over the county, that you are to become Mr. Monson as a reward for your services; and if half that I hear be true, you will deserve her, with a good estate in the bargain.”
Here Williams laughed heartily at his own wit; but Dunscomb looked grave, while his associate counsel looked angry. In point of fact the nail had been hit on the head; and consciousness lighted the spirit within, with its calm, mild glow. Thesenior counsel was too proud, and too dignified, to make any reply; but Timms was troubled with no such feeling.
“If there are any such rumours in old Duke’s,” retorted the last, “it will not need mesmerism to discover their author. In my opinion, the people ought to carry on their suits in a spirit of liberality and justice; and not in a vindictive, malicious temper.”
“We are all of the same way of thinking,” answered Williams, with a sneer. “I consider it liberal to give you a handsome young woman with a full purse; though no one can say how, or by whom, it has been filled. By the way, Mr. Dunscomb, I am instructed to make a proposal to you; and as Timms is in the court, this may be as good a moment as another to present it for consideration. My offer is from the nephew, next of kin, and sole heir of the late Peter Goodwin; by whom, as you probably know, I am retained. This gentleman is well assured that his deceased relatives had a large sum in gold by them, at the time of the murders——”
“No verdict has yet shown that there has been any murders at all,” interrupted Timms.
“We have the verdict of the inquest, begging your pardon, brother Timms—that is something, surely; though not enough, quite likely, to convince your mind. But, to proceed with my proposition:—My client is well assured that such a secret fund existed. He also knows thatyourclient, gentlemen, is flush of money, and money in gold coins that correspond with many pieces that have been seen by different individuals in the possession of our aunt——”
“Ay, eagles and half-eagles,” interrupted Timms—“a resemblance that comes from the stamp of the mint.”
“Go on with your proposition, Mr. Williams”—said Dunscomb.
“We offer to withdraw all our extra counsel, myself included,and to leave the case altogether with the State, which is very much the same thing as an acquittal; provided you willreturnto us five thousand dollars in this gold coin. Notpay, for that might be compounding a felony; butreturn.”
“There could be no compounding a felony, if the indictment be not quashed, but traversed,” said the senior counsel for the defence.
“Very true; but we prefer the word ‘return.’ That leaves everything clear, and will enable us to face the county. Our object is to get ourrights—let the State take care of its justice for itself.”
“You can hardly expect that such a proposition should be accepted, Williams?”
“I am not so sure of that, Timms; life is sweeter than money even. I should like to hear the answer of your associate, however. You, I can see, have no intention of lessening the marriage portion, if it can be helped.”
Such side-hits were so common in court, as between these worthies, that neither thought much of them out of court. But Williams gave a signal proof of the acuteness of his observation, when he expressed a wish to know in what light his proposal was viewed by Dunscomb. That learned gentleman evidently paid more respect to the offer than had been manifested by his associate; and now sat silently ruminating on its nature. Thus directly appealed to, he felt the necessity of giving some sort of an answer.
“You have come expressly to make this proposition to us, Mr. Williams?” Dunscomb demanded.
“To be frank with you, sir, such is the main object of my visit.”
“Of course it is sanctioned by your client, and you speak by authority?”
“It is fully sanctioned by my client, who would greatly preferthe plan; and I act directly by his written instructions. Nothing short of these would induce me to make the proposition.”
“Very well, sir. Will an answer by ten o’clock this evening meet your views?”
“Perfectly so. An answer at any time between this and the sitting of the court to-morrow morning, will fully meet our views. The terms, however, cannot be diminished. Owing to the shortness of the time, it may be well to understandthat.”
“Then, Mr. Williams, I ask a little time for reflection and consultation. We may meet again to-night.”
The other assented, rose, coolly helped himself to another segar, and had got as far as the door, when an expressive gesture from Timms induced him to pause.
“Let us understand each other,” said the last, with emphasis. “Is this a truce, with a complete cessation of hostilities; or is it only a negotiation to be carried on in the midst of war?”
“I hardly comprehend your meaning, Mr. Timms. The question is simply one of taking certain forces—allied forces, they may be called—from the field, and leaving you to contend only with the main enemy. There need be nothing said of a truce, since nothing further can be done until the court opens.”
“That may do very well, Williams, for those that haven’t practised in Duke’s as long as myself; but it will not do for me. There is an army of reporters here, at this moment; and I am afraid that the allies of whom you speak have whole corps of skirmishers.”
Williams maintained a countenance so unmoved that even the judicious Timms was a little shaken; while Dunscomb, who had all the reluctance of a gentleman to believe in an act of meanness, felt outraged by his associate’s suspicions.
“Come, come, Mr. Timms,” the last exclaimed, “I beg we may have no more of this. Mr. Williams has come with a propositionworthy of our consideration; let us meet it in the spirit in which it is offered.”
“Yes,” repeated Williams, with a look that might well have explained hissobriquetof ‘saucy;’“yes“yes, in the spirit in which it is offered. What do you say to that, Timms?”
“That I shall manage the defence precisely as if no such proposition had been made, or any negotiation accepted. You can do the same for the prosecution.”
“Agreed!” Williams rejoined, making a sweeping gesture with his hand, and immediately quitting the room.
Dunscomb was silent for a minute. A thread of smoke arose from the end of his segar; but the volume no longer poured from between his lips. He was ruminating too intensely even to smoke. Rising suddenly, he took his hat, and motioned towards the door.
“Timms, we must go to the gaol,” he said; “Mary Monson must be spoken to at once.”
“If Williams had made his proposition ten days ago, there might be some use in listening to it,” returned the junior, following the senior counsel from the room, carrying all the papers in the cause under an arm; “but, now that all the mischief is done, it would be throwing away five thousand dollars to listen to his proposition.”
“We will see—we will see,” answered the other, hurrying down stairs—“what means the rumpus in that room, Timms? Mrs. Horton has not treated me well, to place a troublesome neighbour so near me. I shall stop and tell her as much, as we go through the hall.”
“You had better not, ’Squire. We want all our friends just now; and a sharp word might cause us to lose this woman, who has a devil of a tongue. She tells me that a crazy man was brought here privately; and, being well paid for it, she has consented to give him what she calls her ‘drunkard’s parlour,’ untilthe court has settled his affair. His room, like your own, is so much out of the way, that the poor fellow gives very little trouble to the great body of the boarders.”
“Ay, very little trouble toyou, and the rest of you, in the main building; but a great deal to me. I shall speak toMrs.Mrs.Horton on the subject, as we pass out.”
“Better not, ’Squire. The woman is our friend now, I know; but a warm word may turn her to the right-about.”
It is probable Dunscomb was influenced by his companion; for he left the house without putting his threat in execution. In a few minutes he and Timms were at the gaol. As counsel could not well be refused admission to their client on the eve of trial, the two lawyers were admitted to the gallery within the outer door that has been so often mentioned. Of course, Mary Monson was notified of the visit; and she received them with Anna Updyke, the good, gentle, considerate Anna, who was ever disposed to help the weak and to console the unhappy, at her side. Dunscomb had no notion that the intimacy had grown to this head; but when he came to reflect that one of the parties was to be tried for her life next day, he was disposed to overlook the manifest indiscretion of his old favourite in being in such a place. Mrs. McBrain’s presence released him from all responsibility; and he returned the warm pressure of Anna’s hand in kindness, if not with positive approbation. As for the girl herself, the very sight of “Uncle Tom,” as she had so long been accustomed to call the counsellor, cheered her heart, and raised new hopes in behalf of her friend.
In a few clear, pointed words, Dunscomb let the motive of his visit be known. There was little time to throw away, and he went directly at his object, stating everything succinctly, but in the most intelligible manner. Nothing could have been more calm than the manner in which Mary Monson listened to his statement; her deportment being as steady as that of one sittingin judgment herself, rather than that of a person whose own fate was involved in the issue.
“It is a large sum to raise in so short a time,” continued the kind-hearted Dunscomb; “but I deem the proposition so important to your interest, that, rather than lose this advantage, I would not hesitate about advancing the money myself, should you be unprepared for so heavy a demand.”
“As respects the money, Mr. Dunscomb,” returned the fair prisoner, in the most easy and natural manner, “thatneed give us no concern. By sending a confidential messenger to town—Mr. John Wilmeter, for instance”—here Anna pressed less closely to her friend’s side—“it would be very easy to have five hundred eagles or a thousand half-eagles here, by breakfast-time to-morrow. It is not on account of any such difficulty that I hesitate a moment. What I dislike is the injustice of the thing. I have never touched a cent of poor Mrs. Goodwin’s hoard; and it would be false to admit that I amreturningthat which I never received.”
“We must not be particular, ma’am, on immaterial points, when there is so much at stake.”
“It may be immaterial whether I pay money under one form or another, Mr. Dunscomb; but it cannot be immaterial to my future standing, whether I am acquitted in the teeth of this Mr. Williams’s opposition, or under favour of his purchase.”
“Acquitted! Our case is not absolutely clear, Miss Monson—it is my duty to tell you as much!”
“I understand such to be the opinion of both Mr. Timms and yourself, sir; I like the candour of your conduct, but am not converted to your way of thinking. I shall be acquitted, gentlemen—yes, honourably, triumphantly acquitted; and I cannot consent to lessen the impression of such a termination to my affair, by putting myself in the way of being even suspected of a collusion with a man like this saucy Williams. It is far betterto meet him openly, and to defy him to do his worst. Perhaps some such trial, followed by complete success, will be necessary to my future happiness.”
Anna now pressed nearer to the side of her friend; passing an arm, unconsciously to herself, around her waist. As for Dunscomb, he gazed at the handsome prisoner in a sort of stupefied wonder. The place, the hour, the business of the succeeding day, and all the accessories of the scene, had an effect to increase the confusion of his mind, and, for the moment, to call in question the fidelity of his senses. As he gazed at the prison-like aspect of the gallery, his eye fell on the countenance of Marie Moulin, and rested there in surprise for half a minute. The Swiss maid was looking earnestly at her mistress, with an expression of concern and of care so intense, that it caused the counsellor to search for their cause. For the first time it flashed on his mind that Mary Monson might be a lunatic, and that the defence so often set up in capital cases as to weary the common mind, might be rendered justly available in this particular instance. The whole conduct of this serving-woman had been so singular; the deportment of Mary Monson herself was so much out of the ordinary rules; and the adhesion of Anna Updyke, a girl of singular prudence of conduct, notwithstanding her disposition to enthusiasm, so marked, that the inference was far from unnatural. Nevertheless, Mary Monson had never looked more calm, more intellectual; never manifested more of a mien of high intelligence, than at that very instant. The singular illumination of the countenance to which we have had occasion already to allude, was conspicuous, but it was benignant and quiet; and the flush of the cheeks added lustre to her eyes. Then the sentiments expressed were just and noble, free from the cunning and mendacity of a maniac; and such as any man might be proud to have the wife of his bosom entertain. All these considerations quickly chased the rising distrust from Dunscomb’smind, and his thoughts reverted to the business that had brought him there.
“You are the best judge, ma’am, of what will most contribute to your happiness,” rejoined the counsellor, after a brief pause. “In the ignorance in which we are kept of the past, I might well add, theonlyjudge; though it is possible that your female companions know more, in this respect, than your legal advisers. It is proper I should say, once more, and probably for the last time, that your case will be greatly prejudiced unless you enable us to dwell on your past life freely and truly.”
“I am accused of murdering an unoffending female and her husband; of setting fire to the dwelling, and of robbing them of their gold. These are accusations that can properly be answered only by a complete acquittal, after a solemn investigation. No half-way measures will do. I must be found not guilty, or a blot rests on my character for life. My position is singular—I had almost said cruel—in some respects owing to my own wilfulness——”
Here Anna Updyke pressed closer to her friend’s side, as if she would defend her against these self-accusations; while Marie Moulin dropped her needle, and listened with the liveliest curiosity.
“Inmanyrespects, perhaps,” continued Mary, after a short pause, “and I must take the consequences. Wilfulness has ever been my greatest enemy. It has been fed by perfect independence and too much money. I doubt if it be good for woman to be thus tried. We were created for dependence, Mr. Dunscomb; dependence on our fathers, on our brothers, and perhaps on our husbands”—here there was another pause; and the cheeks of the fair speaker flushed, while her eyes became brilliant tolight.light.
“Perhaps!” repeated the counsellor, with solemn emphasis.
“I know that men think differently from us on this subject——”
“Fromus—do you desire me to believe that most women wish to be independent of their husbands? Ask the young woman at your side, ifthatbe her feeling of the duties of her sex.”
Anna dropped her head on her bosom, and blushed scarlet. In all her day-dreams of happiness with John Wilmeter, the very reverse of the feeling now alluded to, had been uppermost in her mind; and to her nothing had ever seemed half as sweet as the picture of leaning on him for support, guidance, authority, and advice. The thought of independence would have been painful to her; for a principle of nature, the instinct of her sex, taught her that the part of woman was “to love, honour, and obey.” As for Mary Monson, she quailed a little before the severe eye of Dunscomb; but education, the accidents of life, and possibly a secret principle of her peculiar temperament, united to stimulate her to maintain her original ground.
“I know not what may be the particular notions of Miss Updyke,” returned this singular being, “but I can feel my own longings. They are all for independence. Men have not dealt fairly by women. Possessing the power, they have made all the laws, fashioned all the opinions of the world, in their own favour. Let a woman err, and she can never rise from her fall; while men live with impunity in the midst of their guilt. If a woman think differently from those around her, she is expected to conceal her opinions, in order to receive those of her masters. Even in the worship of God, the highest and most precious of all our duties, she is expected to play a secondary part, and act as if the Christian Faith favoured the sentiment of another, which teaches that women have no souls.”
“All this is as old as the repinings of a very treacherous nature, young lady,” answered Dunscomb, coolly; “and I have often heard it before. It is not surprising, however, that a young, handsome, highly-educated, and I presume rich, person of yoursex, should be seduced by notions seemingly so attractive, and long for what she will be apt to term the emancipation of her sex. This is an age of emancipation; prudent grey-headed men become deluded, and exhibit their folly by succumbing to a wild and exceedingly silly philanthropical hurrah! Even religion is emancipated! There are churches, it is true; but they exist as appendages of society, instead of being divine institutions, established for the secret purposes of unerring wisdom; and we hear men openly commending this or that ecclesiastical organization, because it has more or less of the savour of republicanism. But one new dogma remains to be advanced—that the government of the universe is democratical—in which the ‘music of the spheres’ is a popular song; and the disappearance of a world a matter to be referred to the people in their primary capacity. Among other absurdities of the hour is a new law, giving to married women the control of their property, and drawing a line of covetousness across the bolster of every marriage bed in the State!”
“Surely, Mr. Dunscomb, a man of your integrity, character, manliness, and principles, would defend the weaker sex in the maintenance of its rights against prodigality, tyranny, and neglect!”
“These are so many words, my dear ma’am, and are totally without meaning, when thoroughly sifted. God created woman to be a help-meet to man—to comfort, solace, and aid him in his pursuit after worldly happiness; but always in a dependent relation. The marriage condition, viewed in its every-day aspect, has sufficient causes of disagreement, without drawing in this of property. One of the dearest and nearest of its ties, indeed, that of a perfect identification of interests, is at once cut off by this foolish, not to say wicked attempt to light the torch of contention in every household. It were better to teach our women not to throw themselves away on men who cannot be trusted; to inculcatethe necessity of not marrying in haste to repent at leisure, than to tinker the old, venerable, and long-tried usages of our fathers, by crotchets that come far more from the feverish audacity of ignorance, than from philosophy or wisdom. Why, unless the courts interpose their prudence to rectify the blunders of the legislature, as they have already done a hundred times, the labourer’s wife may have her action against her husband for the earthen bowl he has broken; and the man may be sued by the wife for rent! The happiness of every home is hourly put in jeopardy, in order that, now and then, a wife may be saved from the courses of a speculator or a spendthrift.”
“Might not this have been done before, uncle Tom, by means of settlements?” asked Anna, with interest.
“Certainly; and that it is which renders all this silly quackery so much the worse. In those cases in which the magnitude of the stake might seem to demand extraordinary care, the means already existed for providing all useful safeguards; and any new legislation was quite unnecessary. This very law will produce twenty-fold more unhappiness in families, than it will prevent of misery, by setting up distinct, and often conflicting interests, among those who ought to live as ‘bone of their bone, and flesh of theirflesh.’”flesh.’”
“You do not give to woman her proper place in society, Mr. Dunscomb,” returned Mary Monson, haughtily; “your comments are those of a bachelor. I have heard of a certain Miss Millington, who once had an interest with you, and who, if living, would have taught you juster sentiments on this subject.”
Dunscomb turned as white as a sheet; his hand and lip quivered; and all desire to continue the discourse suddenly left him. The gentle Anna, ever attentive to his wishes and ailings, stole to his side, silently offering a glass of water. She had seen this agitation before, and knew there was a leaf in “Uncle Tom’s” history that he did not wish every vulgar eye to read.
As for Mary Monson, she went into her cell, like one who declined any further communication with her counsel. Timms was struck with her lofty and decided manner; but stood too much in awe of her, to interpose a remonstrance. After a few minutes taken by Dunscomb to regain his self-command, and a brief consultation together, the two lawyers quitted the prison. All this time, the accused remained in her cell, in resentful silence, closely and anxiously watched by the searching eye of her senior attendant.