Part 34 (2/2)

”Precisely so--no repet.i.tion at all.”

”You will examine your own witness, and, of course, you need not go behind the scene in Surrey Street, at which the crime was actually committed--except in opening your case. What the jury will say is this: husband and wife on bad terms, separated, and divorce pending; wife comes to husband's rooms, reproaches him; recriminations; dagger handy on the table (very bad for him that); a sudden temptation, a sudden blow, and there's an end of it. No need to prove they were on bad terms, with all those facts before you.”

”But then comes the defence.”

”Well, sir, what is their line going to be? If they want to persuade the jury that she did it herself, or that it was an accident, they will not dwell upon all the reasons which might have tempted him to take her life. That would be weakening their own case.”

”And Milton is capable of doing it!” said Sydney, talking to himself.

”But if they think the jury will be bound to believe that he stabbed her, no doubt they would go in for blackening her, and then they might cross-examine her about those other things.”

”That is where the danger comes in.”

Sydney's words were equivalent to another question, but Johnson preserved a perfectly stolid face. It was all very well for him to advise his employer, and work up his cases for him if necessary. He was accustomed to do both these things, and his help had been invaluable to Sydney for several years past. But it was out of his line to display more confidence than was displayed in him, or to venture on delicate ground before he had received a lead.

”Yes, that's were the danger comes in,” Sydney repeated. ”I have reason to believe that there is a disposition on their part to keep the lady's name out of the case; but they are not pledged to it; and if they find things looking very bad for Walcott, they may show fight in that direction. Then there is Mr. Milton--no instructions can altogether gag counsel. I don't know that I have ever given him cause of offence, but I have an instinctive feeling that he would rather enjoy putting me in a hole.”

”I think you would have the judge with you in any objection which you might take.”

”But it would be a misfortune, as things stand, even to have to take objection. Not only do I want to avoid the introduction of these extraneous matters, but I should strongly object to figure in any way as watching Miss Campion's interests. It would be very bad indeed for me to have to do that. What I desire is that her interests should at no moment of the trial appear, even to those who know the circ.u.mstances, to be involved.”

”I quite see,” said Johnson. ”And since you ask me, I don't think you have much to fear. It is a delicate position, but both sides are of the same mind on the particular point, and it is most improbable that any indiscretion will occur. Prosecution and defence both want to avoid a certain pitfall--when they won't struggle on the edge of it. What do you say, Mr. Campion, to setting forth in your opening statement all that is known about their previous quarrels, not concealing that the woman has been rather outrageous, in her foreign fas.h.i.+on, but quietly ignoring the fact of her jealousy?”

”That would be too bold--it would excite her, and possibly move the defence to needless retorts.”

”As for exciting her, if she is thoroughly convinced that his conviction will spoil his chance of a divorce, she will take the whole thing coolly enough. My idea was that by opening fully, and touching on every point, you would escape the appearance of s.h.i.+rking anything. And at the same time you would be suggesting these motives for violence on Walcott's part which, as you said, it would be their business to avoid.”

”There is a good deal in that,” said Sydney, reflectively. ”It is worth considering. Yes, two heads are certainly better than one. I see that I am instructed to ask about the attempt on her life at Aix-les-Bains.

Why, what a rascal the man has been to her! No wonder she is venemous now.”

When the trial took place, the court was crowded with men and women who were anxious to see the princ.i.p.al actors in what was popularly known as the Surrey Street Mystery. They were both there--Alan pale and haggard from his long suspense, and Cora, much pulled down by what she had gone through. Of the two, she was, perhaps, the more interesting. Illness and loss of blood had done something to efface the dissipated look which had become habitual with her; she was languid and soberly dressed; and, moreover, she understood, as Mr. Johnson had said she would, that the conviction of her husband would put his divorce out of the question, at any rate for some time to come. So it was her business to look interesting, and injured, and quiet; and she was cunning enough to play this part successfully.

Alan, on the other hand, was completely indifferent as to the opinion which might be formed of him, and almost indifferent as to the verdict.

When he came into court he looked carefully round at the women who were present among the spectators, but, not seeing the one face which he had both dreaded and hoped to see, he fell back into his former lethargy, and took very little interest in the proceedings.

Sydney Campion opened the case for the prosecution in a business-like way, just glancing at the unhappy relations which had existed between the prisoner and his wife for several years past, and freely admitting that there appeared to have been faults on both sides. He took the common-sense view of a man of the world speaking to men of the world, and did not ask the sympathies of the jury for the injured woman who had come straight from the hospital to that court, but only their impartial attention to the evidence which would be brought before them, and the expression of their deliberate opinion on the innocence or guilt of the accused.

Nothing could be more fair than his observations--or so it appeared to the majority of Campion's hearers. No doubt he had referred to the affair at Aix-les-Bains as though it were a matter of evidence, instead of mere allegation, and to the recent quarrels in England as though the ”faults on both sides” had been clearly established. But he was supposed to be speaking in strict accordance with his instructions, and, of course, it was open to the defence to question anything which he had said.

Then came the evidence for the prosecution, the substance of which is already known to the reader; but Cora's account of the quarrel in Surrey Street was so ingeniously colored and distorted that Alan found himself listening with something like genuine amus.e.m.e.nt to the questions of counsel and the replies of his lying wife.

”And so,” said Mr. Campion, after she had spoken of her earnest appeal for the renewal of friends.h.i.+p, and of her husband's insulting refusal, ”you came to high words. Did you both keep the same positions whilst you were talking?”

”For a long time, until I lost patience, and then--yes, let me speak the whole truth--I threw a certain book at him.”

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