Priscilla and Charybdis: A Story of AlternativesMoore, Frank Frankfort
General
Priscilla and Charybdis: A Story of Alternatives
Moore, Frank Frankfort
Fiction
“I thought Sir Edward’s cross-examination might be expected to do great
things for us in this way,” said Priscilla.
“It may do something, but not a great deal,” said Liscomb. “Judges are
fond of facts; they don’t care much about cross-examinations, however
brilliant the newspapers may call them. You can easily see how the
fellow, now that he has been put on his guard by your hint that you mean
to try to connect his voyage with a woman, will be careful to have a
story ready to account for all his movements, and he has only to stick
to it to pull through, however Sir Edward may browbeat him. If you can
bring the woman into court we shall have him in the cart.”
That was all that Mr. Liscomb had to say to them, and they began to
feel that they might as well have gone on direct to the gaol instead of
calling upon him. And that was exactly what Mr. Liscomb himself thought.
The honour and glory of being associated with the “curious case”
were not inordinately estimated by him; the firm had been so closely
connected with such a number of other curious cases ever since he had
become a partner.
They found Major Crosbie waiting for them in a private room at the
governor’s house. As he was somewhat irregular in offering them
the information of which he was possessed, he was too strict a
disciplinarian to receive them in an official apartment. Within the
precincts of his private residence he felt himself at liberty to talk as
he pleased. A conscience capable of such reasonable differentiation is
most valuable in an official.
He waved aside in a graceful way Mr. Wingfield’s expression of gratitude
for the invitation to this interview.
“There is no need to say a word on this point, Mr. Wingfield,” he said.
“Your case is a most curious one.”
Jack confessed that he had heard it so described.
“A very curious one. It had been for nearly a week in the papers before
I had a chance of hearing anything about it; but when I heard the name
Marcus Blaydon I at once recollected some particulars which had come
under my notice officially in connection with that man Blaydon. You are
aware that it is part of my duty to read not only those letters which
the prisoners in my charge write to persons outside, but also those
which are received for themselves. Now, Blaydon received while in
this prison four letters, all of which had been addressed to him at
Prangborough, where, as you doubtless know, he lived.”
Priscilla assented. Prangborough was the town in which her Aunt Emily
lived.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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