In the buzz that followed, a note was handed to Mr. Compton; _"Skinner!_On a hot scent. Sure to find him to-day.--_N.B._ He is wanted by another party. There is something curious a-foot."Compton wrote on a slip, "For Heaven's sake, bring him directly. In half an hour it will be too late."Green hurried out and nearly ran against Mr. Richard Hardie, who was moodily pacing Westminster Hall at the climax of his own anxiety. To him all turned on Skinner. Five minutes passed, ten, fifteen, twenty: all the plaintiff's party had their eyes on the door; but Green did not return;and the judge did. Then to gain a few minutes more, Mr. Colt, instructed by Compton, rose and said with great solemnity, "We are about to call our last witness: the living have testified to my client's sanity, and now we shall read you the testimony of the dead."_Saunders._--That I object to, of course.
_Colt._--Does my learned friend mean to say he objects at random?
_Saunders._--Nothing of the kind. I object on the law of evidence--a matter on which my learned friend seems to be under a hallucination as complete as his client's about that L. 14,000.
_Colt._--There's none ever feared That the truth should he heard But they whom the truth would indict.
_Saunders._--A court of justice is not the place for old songs; and new law.
_Colt._--Really, my learned friend is the objective case incarnate. (To Compton.--I can't keep this nonsense up for ever. Is Skinner come?) He has a Mania for objection, and with your lordship's permission I'll buy a couple of doctors and lock him up in an asylum as he leaves the court this afternoon. (Laughter.)_The judge._--A very good plan: then you'll no longer feel the weight of his abilities. I conclude, Mr. Colt, you intend to call a witness who will swear to the deceased person's hand-writing and that it was written in the knowledge Death was at hand.
_Colt._--Certainly, my lord. I can call Miss Julia Dodd.
_Saunders._--That I need not take the trouble of objecting to.
_The judge_ (with some surprise).--No, Mr. Colt. That will never do. You have examined her, and re-examined her.
I need hardly say Mr. Colt knew very well he could not call Julia Dodd.
But he was fighting for seconds now, to get in Skinner. "Call Edward Dodd."Edward was sworn, and asked if he knew the late Jane Hardie.
"I knew her well," said he.
"Is that her handwriting?"
"It is."
"Where was it written?"
"In my mother's house at Barkington."
"Under what circumstances?"
"She was dying--of a blow given her by a maniac called Maxley.""Maxley!" said the judge to counsel. "I remember the Queen _v._ Maxley. Itried him myself at the assizes: it was for striking a young lady with a bludgeon, of which she died. Maxley was powerfully defended; and it was proved that his wife had died, and he had been driven mad for a time, by her father's bank breaking. The jury _would_ bring in a verdict that was no verdict at all; as I took the liberty to tell them at the time. The judges dismissed it, and Maxley was eventually discharged."_Colt._--No doubt that was the case, my lord. To the witness.--Did Jane Hardie know she was dying?
"Oh yes, sir. She told us all so."
"To whom did she give this letter?"
"To my sister."
"Oh, to your sister? To Miss Julia Dodd?""Yes, sir. But not for herself. It was to give to Alfred Hardie.""Can you read the letter? It is rather faintly written. It is written in pencil, my lord.""I _could_ read it, sir; but I hope you will excuse me. She that wrote it was very, very dear to me."The young man's full voice faltered as he uttered these words, and he turned his lion-like eyes soft and imploring on the judge. That venerable and shrewd old man, learned in human nature as well as in law, comprehended in a moment, and said kindly, "You misunderstand him.
Witnesses do not read letters _out_ in court. Let the letter be handed up to me." This was fortunate, for the court cuckoo, who intones most letters, would have read all the sense and pathos out of this, with his monotonous sing-song.
The judge read it carefully to himself with his glasses, and told the jury it seemed a genuine document: then the crier cried "Silence in the court," and his lordship turned towards the jury and read the letter slowly and solemnly:
_"DEAR, DEAR BROTHER,--Your poor little Jane lies dying, suddenly but not painfully, and my last earthly thoughts are for my darling brother. Some wicked person has said you are insane. I deny this with my dying breath and my dying hand. You came to me the night before the wedding that was to be, and talked to me most calmly, rationally and kindly; so that Icould not resist your reasons, and went to your wedding, which, till then, I did not intend. Show these words to your slanderers when I am no more. But oh! Alfred, even this is of little moment compared with the world to come. By all our affection, grant me one request. Battered, wounded, dying in my prime, what would be my condition but for the Saviour, whom I have loved, and with whom I hope soon to be. He smoothes the bed of death for me, He lights the dark valley; I rejoice to die and be with Him. Oh, turn to Him, dear brother, without one hour's delay, and then how short will be this parting. This is your dying sister's one request, who loves you dearly._"With the exception of Julia's sobs, not a sound was heard as the judge read it. Many eyes were wet: and the judge himself was visibly affected, and pressed his handkerchief a moment to his eyes. "These are the words of a Christian woman, gentlemen," he said. And there was silence. Agirl's hand seemed to have risen from the grave to defend her brother and rend the veil from falsehood.
Mr. Colt, out of pure tact, subdued his voice to the key of the sentiment thus awakened, and said impressively, "Gentlemen of the jury, that is our case:" and so sat down.