The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy ChainYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
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The Trial; Or, More Links of the Daisy Chain
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Trials (Murder) -- Fiction
Ethel was dragged on so fast, that she could not speak; but it was with
willing haste, for this was the sort of suspense in which motion and
purpose were a great relief after the day's weary waiting. Gertrude,
quite spent with excitement and tears, had wisely betaken herself to
bed; and it would have been well had Aubrey followed her example,
instead of wandering up and down the room in his misery, flushed though
wan, impetuously talking treason against trial by jury, and abusing
dignitaries. They let him have it out, in all its fury and violence,
till he had tired out his first vehemence, and could be persuaded to
lie on the sofa while the rough draught of the petition was drawn up,
Tom writing, and every one suggesting or discussing, till the Doctor,
getting thorough mastery over the subject, dictated so fluently and
admirably, that even Tom had not a word to gainsay, but observed to
Ethel, when his father had gone up to bed, and carried Aubrey off,
'What an exceedingly able man my father is!'
'Is this the first time you have found that out?' said Ethel.
'Why, you know it is not his nature to make the most of himself! But
studying under him brings it out more; and there's a readiness about
him that I wish was catching. But I say, Ethel, what's this? I no
more doubt who did the deed, than I do who killed Abel; but I had once
seen Cain's face, and I knew it again. Is it true that the boy was
aware, and told my father?'
'Did he tell you so?'
'Only asked if he had betrayed the secret. If they both know it--why,
if it be Leonard's taste, I suppose I must say nothing to the contrary,
but he might as well consider his sister.'
'What do you know, Tom?' said she, perplexed.
'Only that there's some secret; and if it be as I am given to
understand, then it is a frenzy that no lucid person should permit.'
'No, Tom,' said Ethel, feeling that the whole must be told, 'it is no
certainty--only unsupported suspicion, which he could not help telling
papa after binding him on honour to make no use of it. Putting things
together, he was sure who the man in the yard was; but it was not
recognition, and he could not have proved it.'
'What Quixotry moved my father not to put the lawyers on the scent?'
Ethel explained; and for her pains Tom fell upon her for her folly in
not having told him all, when he could have gone to Blewer and gathered
information as no professional person could do; then lamented that he
had let Aubrey keep him from the inquest, when the fellow's hang-dog
look would have been sure to suggest to him to set Anderson to get him
searched. Even now he would go to the mill, and try to hunt up
something.
'Tom, remember papa's promise!'
'Do you think a man can do nothing without committing himself, like
poor Aubrey? No, Ethel, the Doctor may be clever, but that's no use if
a man is soft, and he is uncommonly soft; and you should not encourage
him in it.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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