insinuating questionof the prosecuting counsel.
"Well; some three months after this I was present at the CentralTribunal at St Petersburg, when prisoner was sentenced to the mines forcomplicity in the murder of a hotel-keeper. The sentence, however, wasnever carried out, for on the way to Siberia he escaped, returning toEngland."
"It's a lie! I was exiled without trial," I shouted. Amid the loudcries of "Silence," counsel turned to the judge, and with a cruel smileabout his lips remarked, "You see, my lord, prisoner admits he wasexiled."
Mr Roland made an impatient motion to me to preserve silence; so seeingmy protests were useless, I sank again into my chair, and tried toconquer my fate by bearing it.
Mr Crane the junior counsel defending me, cross-examined him at somelength, but resumed his seat without being able to shake his testimony.
The waiter who had attended to me at the Charing Cross Hotel, and two ofmy own servants were called, but their evidence was immaterial anduninteresting.
I felt a strange morbid yielding to a superstitious feeling that I couldnot shake off, and sat as one in a dream, until the Court rose and I wassent back to my cell.
CHAPTER THIRTY.
THE ELEVENTH HOUR.
Next morning my trial was resumed.
There was the same array of counsel; the same crowd of curious onlookerslounging on the benches like carrion crows around a carcase; the samestrange, half-visionary procession of judges, lawyers and witnesses, whopassed and repassed before me, sometimes ludicrous, but generally gloomyand depressing.
The jury looked pale and weary. They had been locked up during thenight, and now several of them were yawning. None gave indication thatthey felt the responsibility of the sentence they had to pronounce.
I sat in the dock heedless of everything; I had grown callous. I hadone thought only: Why had not Vera made her promised explanation?
A few minor witnesses were called, and the case for the prosecutionclosed.
At last Mr Roland rose to make his speech in my defence. Thecircumstantial evidence already produced was, I knew, sufficient tocause the jury to find me guilty, and I listened in rapt attention tothe clear, concise arguments of the famous advocate.
But how unsatisfactory was his speech--how weak was his defence! With asinking heart I saw more than one of the jury smile incredulously whenmy innocence was asserted.
"I admit, gentlemen," said Mr Roland, in the course of his address,"that this case is enshrouded in mystery; but while asserting that theprisoner is innocent, I tell you plainly there is a secret. The key tothis enigma is known to one person alone, and that person, for reasonswith which I am myself unacquainted, is not in a position to divulge it.That this secret bears directly upon the crime is obvious, neverthelessit is a most unfortunate circumstance that the mystery cannot be whollyelucidated by a satisfactory explanation. However, I have severalwitnesses whom I purpose calling before you; and having heard them, Ishall ask you to discharge the prisoner, feeling assured you will beconvinced that he is entirely innocent."
"But, Mr Roland, this is a most extraordinary case," interposed thejudge. "You speak of a person who knows the secret and refuses to giveevidence. If this is so, this person is party to the crime. To whom doyou refer?"
Counsel held a brief consultation with his junior, then rose again.
The Court was all expectancy.
"I refer, m'lord, to no less a person than the prisoner's wife!"
The reply caused a sensation. Vera knew the secret! I was not wrong.
"Ah, that is unfortunate," exclaimed the judge, disappointedly. "It isimpossible to call her in a case of this description."
At that moment the usher handed Mr Roland a note. He read it hastily,and, raising his hand, said:
"The lady has just arrived in court, and is about to produce importantevidence, m'lord."
The silence was unbroken, save for the _frou-frou_ of Vera's dress asshe advanced towards my counsel, and bent over him, whispering.
Mr Roland was seated close to the dock, and I strained my ears to catchtheir hurried conversation.
In face of the horrible charge brought against me, the persistency withwhich it was pursued, and the evidence produced in support of it, I hadbeen so overwhelmed by a sense of fatality that I had almost decided tolet things take their course. I knew I was innocent, nevertheless Ifelt the difficulty, if not the impossibility, of proving it. Now,however, encouraged by this proof of sympathy on the part of Vera, Itook heart.
"What will these witnesses prove?" asked Mr Roland, hurriedly.
Vera, whose face was rendered more delicate and touching by the torturesshe seemed undergoing, glanced quickly towards me, and replied:
"They will prove my husband's innocence!"
Counsel uttered an ejaculation of surprise. "Are you certain of this?"he asked.
"Yes. If it were possible that I might be called as a witness I couldtell the Court things that would probably astonish it; but I leaveeverything to the two persons I have brought," she replied in atremulous voice.
The jury grew impatient. The excitement was intense.
In a few moments a young and rather showily-attired woman stepped intothe box. As she turned towards me I was puzzled to know where I hadseen the face before. The features seemed quite familiar, yet I couldnot recollect.
"You are Jane Maygrove?" asked my counsel.
"Yes."
"Tell us what you know of the murder of Mrs Inglewood. Relate it inyour own way."
She hesitated for a moment and commenced:
"Before I married I was maid to Mrs Inglewood. Mistress was a veryquiet lady, and lived with a cook and myself in Bedford Place. I was inher service about three months, and although she told me she wasmarried--and she wore a wedding-ring--her husband never visited her.Several foreign ladies came to see her on different occasions, but onlyone gentleman. He also had the appearance of a foreigner but spokeEnglish without an accent. One evening, in the latter part of July,mistress dined alone with this gentleman, and I overheard a conversationwhich took place in the drawing-room afterwards. I--"
"Was this gentleman to whom you refer the prisoner?" asked Mr Roland.
"No he was not. On that night I heard the visitor advising mistress towithdraw her money from a company which he said was on the brink ofcollapsing, and place it in his hands to invest. At first she demurred,and appeared to discredit the rumour that the company was not safe; but,after a long argument, he exacted a promise that she would withdraw themoney and hand it over to him in cash on the fifteenth of August, whenit was arranged that he should re-invest it for her."
"And what happened on the latter date?"
"Mistress was at home during the day. A clerk called in the afternoonand handed a small leather bag to her, for which she signed a receipt,after counting the money. When she had finished, I saw her place thebag under the sofa, at the same time leaving a small roll of bank-notesupon the mantelshelf. Previously I had mentioned the matter to my youngman, and it was he who prompted me to act in the manner I did. Well,about seven o'clock the gentleman arrived, and shortly afterwardsmistress and he went out--to the Cafe Royal, I believe--to dine, asMary, our cook, had been dismissed that morning for dishonesty.
"My young man urged me to get possession of the money while they wereout, saying that we could then marry, go abroad, and set up in businesswith it. But my heart failed me, and I could not bring myself to committhe robbery. About ten o'clock a telegram came, and half an hour latermistress and the gentleman returned. When mistress read the telegramshe appeared nervous and agitated. They both entered the dining-room,and at first conversed in low tones, but soon appeared to be inaltercation. I heard the gentleman say, `I shall not leave this houseuntil you let me have the money. I tell you I will not allow you toruin yourself.' To which mistress replied that she had changed hermind, and should place the money in the bank instead. At this theforeigner grew furious. Mistress urged him to go, but he would
not.Then all was quiet again. She gave me orders to lay supper in thesitting-room upstairs, which I obeyed, she telling me that her husbandwas coming home after a long journey. I wondered what the master wouldsay to the other gentleman, but discreetly held my tongue. It wasn't myplace to say a word. About eleven o'clock the gentleman departed veryreluctantly, and soon after midnight mistress's husband arrived.
"I opened the door to him. He was a tall, handsome man, who wore a felthat and long travelling ulster. He greeted mistress very cordially,kissing her with much affection, and then they went upstairs together tosupper.
"All the evening I had been hesitating whether or not I should decampwith the money, and while they were sitting at table I was stillthinking over the matter. The clock struck two, and roused me.Suddenly I made up my mind to take it, so creeping back to thedrawing-room I opened the bag,