Part 34 (1/2)
”Let it be impossible. The first object is not my defence, but hers.”
”Your vision is distorted,” Larmer had said angrily. ”This may seem to you right and generous, but I tell you it is foolish and unnecessary.”
”I will not be guided in this particular thing,” Alan rejoined, ”by your reason, but by my feeling. An acquittal at her cost would mean a lifelong sorrow.”
”If I know anything of women, Miss Campion, who does not quite hate you, would insist on having the whole story told in open court. Perhaps she may return to England in time for the trial, and then she can decide the point herself.”
”Heaven forbid!” Alan had said. And he meant it. Worse than that, he tortured himself with the idea, which he called a firm belief, that Lettice had heard, or would hear, of his disgraceful position, that she would be unable to doubt that he had struck the fatal blow, and that he would be dropped out of her heart and out of her life as a matter of course. How could it be otherwise? What was he to her, that she should believe him innocent in spite of appearances; or that, believing him merely unfortunate and degraded, she should not think less well of him than when he held his name high in the world of letters and in society?
”That dream is gone,” he said. ”Let me forget it, and wake to the new life that opens before me. A new life--born in a police cell, baptized in a criminal court, suckled in a prison, and trained in solitary adversity. That is the fate for which I have been reserved. I may be nearly fifty when I come out--a broken-down man, without reputation and without a hope. Truly, the dream is at an end; and oh, G.o.d of Heaven, make her forget me as though we had never met!”
So, when Mr. Larmer frankly told him all that Sydney Campion had said, Alan could not find it in his heart to blame Lattice's brother for his hostility.
CHAPTER XXVI.
IN COURT.
No doubt it was from some points of view an unprofessional act of Sydney Campion to appear in court as counsel for the prosecution of Alan Walcott. Sydney knew that he was straining a rule of etiquette, to say the least of it; but, under the circ.u.mstances, he held himself justified in fis.h.i.+ng for the brief.
The matter had been taken up by the Treasury, and Sydney had asked an intimate friend, who was also a friend of the Attorney-General, to give the latter a hint. Now Sir James was, above all things, a suave and politic man of the world, who thought that persons of position and influence got on best in the intricate game of life by deftly playing into each other's hands. When one gentleman could do something for another gentleman, to oblige and accommodate him, it was evidently the proper course to do it gracefully and without fuss. Campion's motives were clearly excellent. As he understood the business (although the amba.s.sador put it very delicately indeed), a lady's reputation was at stake; and if Sir James prided himself on one thing more than another, it was his gallantry and discretion in matters of this kind. So he told his friend to go back and set Mr. Campion's mind at rest; and in the course of a day or two Sydney received his brief.
”Who is going to defend?” he asked his clerk, when he had glanced at his instructions.
”I heard just now that Larmer had retained Mr. Charles Milton.”
”Charles Milton! The deuce! It will be a pretty little fight, Johnson!”
”They don't seem to have a leg to stand on; the evidence is all one way, even without the wife. I don't know what his story is, but it cannot have any corroboration--and hers is well supported.”
”I am told she will be able to appear. She seems to be a terrible talker--that is the worst of her. I must keep her strictly within the ropes.”
”The other side will not have the same motives,” said Johnson, who knew all about the scandal which had preceded the a.s.sault, and who wanted to get his employer to speak.
”You think Mr. Milton will draw her on?”
”Sure to, I should say. If I were defending (since you ask me), I would not loose my grip until I had got her into a rage; and from all I hear that would make the jury believe her capable of anything, even of stabbing herself and swearing it on her husband.”
”But, my good fellow, you are not defending him! And I'll take care she is not worked up in that fas.h.i.+on. Thanks for the suggestion, all the same. They will contend that it was done in a struggle.”
”Against that, you have her evidence that the blow was deliberate; and I think the jury will believe her.”
”They can't help themselves: motive, incitements, favoring circ.u.mstances, are all too manifest. And that just makes the difficulty and delicacy of the case for me. I want the jury to see the whole thing impartially, that they may do justice, without bias and without foolish weakness; and yet there are certain matters connected with it which need not be dwelt upon--which must, in fact, be kept in the background altogether. Do you see?”
”I think I do.” Johnson was a good deal in Sydney's confidence, being a man of much discretion, and with considerable knowledge of the law. He felt that his advice was being asked, or at any rate his opinion, and he met Mr. Campion's searching gaze with one equally cool and serious.
”I have no doubt you know as much about it as I could tell you. You seem to hear everything from one source or another. Do you understand why it is that I am going into court? It is not altogether a regular thing to do, is it?”
”I suppose you wish to keep the evidence well in hand,” Johnson replied, readily. ”A lady's name has been used in a very unwarrantable manner, and--since you ask me--you have undertaken to see that there is no unnecessary repet.i.tion of the matter in court.”