The Heart of a MysterySpeight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
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The Heart of a Mystery
Speight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
English fiction -- 19th century; Mystery and detective stories
His sister and his niece had been permitted to have an interview with
him on the eve of the trial, and he had contrived to infuse into them
some of the courage which he felt, or professed to feel, as to the
morrow's result. They were staying with some friends in Close Street,
and Clement Hazeldine, who had given his patients into the charge of a
brother practitioner for a couple of days, had arranged to send them
frequent messages from the Court during the progress of the trial. The
prisoner's defence had been entrusted to the hands of the well-known
Mr. Burgees, with whom was Mr. Timperly as junior. Mr. Mulgrave had
been specially retained as counsel for the Crown.
It was none other than the murdered man's eldest son who had retained
Mr. Burgees to defend the prisoner. This was a point which had been
much commented upon by the good people of Ashdown, and one that had
told strongly with them in John Brancker's favor. If a clear,
hard-headed man of the world like Edward Hazeldine had such faith in
his innocence, how would it be possible for any jury to bring him in
guilty? Then again, was it not a well-known fact that the younger son,
Clement, was a frequent visitor at Mr. Brancker's house, and among
such of the wiseacres as made it their business to pry into every
little matter in any way connected with the affair, there were not
wanting whispers of an engagement between the young doctor and the
accused man's niece. No, John Brancker must be an innocent man, they
decided among themselves; and yet, on the face of it, the evidence
against him seemed terribly conclusive, nor, so far as was known, had
anything likely to shake it been brought to light since the date of
the prisoner's committal. Strenuous efforts had been made to find the
man and woman whom John stated that he had encountered, quarrelling
fiercely, while on his way back from Strong's cottage, and one of
whom, the woman, had flung a stone at him, which had contused his
forehead. But nowhere could any traces of them be found, neither had
the offer of a reward, if they would come forward and give evidence,
been productive of any result.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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