Hand and Ring, Anna Katharine Green [reading strategies book txt] 📗

cleared brow, the playful tone of the District Attorney showed the relieved state of his mind. Byrd's arguments had evidently convinced him of the innocence of Imogene Dare.

Hickory, seeing it, shook his head with a gloomy air.

"Sir," said he, "I can't demolish it. If I could tell why Mansell fled from Widow Clemmens' house at five minutes to twelve I might be able to do so, but that fact stumps me. It is an act consistent with guilt. It may be consistent with innocence, but, as we don't know all the facts, we can't say so. But this I do know, that my convictions with regard to that man have undergone a change. I now as firmly believe in his innocence as I once did in his guilt."

"What has produced the change?" asked Mr. Ferris.

"Well," said Hickory, "it all lies in this. From the day I heard Miss Dare accuse him so confidently in the hut, I believed him guilty; from the moment he withdrew his defence, I believed him innocent."

Mr. Ferris and Mr. Byrd looked at him astonished. He at once brought down his fist in vigorous assertion on the table.

"I tell you," said he, "that Craik Mansell is innocent. The truth is, he believes Miss Dare guilty, and so stands his trial, hoping to save her."

"And be hung for her crime?" asked Mr. Ferris.

"No; he thinks his innocence will save him, in spite of the evidence on which we got him indicted."

But the District Attorney protested at this.

"That can't be," said he; "Mansell has withdrawn the only defence he had."

"On the contrary," asserted Hickory, "that very thing only proves my theory true. He is still determined to save Miss Dare by every thing short of a confession of his own guilt. He won't lie. That man is innocent."

"And Miss Dare is guilty?" said Byrd.

"Shall I make it clear to you in the way it has become clear to Mr. Mansell?"

As Byrd only answered by a toss of his head, Hickory put his elbows on the table, and checking off every sentence with the forefinger of his right hand, which he pointed at Mr. Ferris' shirt-stud, as if to instil from its point conviction into that gentleman's bosom, he proceeded with the utmost composure as follows:

"To commence, then, with the scene in the woods. He meets her. She is as angry at his aunt as he is. What does she do? She strikes the tree with her hand, and tells him to wait till to-morrow, since a night has been known to change the whole current of a person's affairs. Now tell me what does that mean? Murder? If so, she was the one to originate it. He can't forget that. It has stamped itself upon Mansell's memory, and when, after the assassination of Mrs. Clemmens, he recalls those words, he is convinced that she has slain Mrs. Clemmens to help him."

"But, Mr. Hickory," objected Mr. Ferris, "this assumes that Mr. Mansell is innocent, whereas we have exceedingly cogent proof that he is the guilty party. There is the circumstance of his leaving Widow Clemmens' house at five minutes to twelve."

To which Hickory, with a twinkle in his eye, replied:

"I won't discuss that; it hasn't been proved, you know. Miss Dare told you she saw him do this, but she wouldn't swear to it. Nothing is to be taken for granted against my man."

"Then you think Miss Dare spoke falsely?"

"I don't say that. I believe that whatever he did could be explained if we knew as much about it as he does. But I'm not called upon to explain any thing which has not appeared in the evidence against him."

"Well, then, we'll take the evidence. There is his ring, found on the scene of murder."

"Exactly," rejoined Hickory. "Dropped there, as he must suppose, by Miss Dare, because he didn't know she had secretly restored it to his pocket."

Mr. Ferris smiled.

"You don't see the force of the evidence," said he. "As she had restored it to his pocket, he must have been the one to drop it there."

"I am willing to admit he dropped it there, not that he killed Mrs. Clemmens. I am now speaking of his suspicions as to the assassin. When the betrothal ring was found there, he suspects Miss Dare of the crime, and nothing has occurred to change his suspicions."

"But," said the District Attorney, "how does your client, Mr. Mansell, get over this difficulty; that Miss Dare, who has committed a murder to put five thousand dollars into his pocket, immediately afterward turns round and accuses him of the crime—nay more, furnishes evidence against him!"

"You can't expect the same consistency from a woman as from a man. They can nerve themselves up one moment to any deed of desperation, and take every pains the next to conceal it by a lie."

"Men will do the same; then why not Mansell?"

"I am showing you why I know that Mansell believes Miss Dare guilty of a murder. To continue, then. What does he do when he hears that his aunt has been murdered? He scratches out the face of Miss Dare in a photograph; he ties up her letters with a black ribbon as if she were dead and gone to him. Then the scene in the Syracuse depot! The rule of three works both ways, Mr. Byrd, and if she left her home to solve her doubts, what shall be said of him? The recoil, too—was it less on his part than hers? And, if she had cause to gather guilt from his manner, had he not as much cause to gather it from hers? If his mind was full of suspicion when he met her, it became conviction before he left; and, bearing that fact in your mind, watch how he henceforth conducted himself. He does not come to Sibley; the woman he fears to encounter is there. He hears of Mr. Hildreth's arrest, reads of the discoveries which led to it, and keeps silent. So would any other man have done in his place, at least till he saw whether this arrest was likely to end in trial. But he cannot forget he had been in Sibley on the fatal day, or that there may be some one who saw his interview with Miss Dare. When Byrd comes to him, therefore, and tells him he is wanted in Sibley, his first question is, 'Am I wanted as a witness?' and, even you have acknowledged, Mr. Ferris, that he seemed surprised to find himself accused of the crime. But, accused, he takes his course and keeps to it. Brought to trial, he remembers the curious way in which he crossed the river, and thus cut short the road to the station; and, seeing in it great opportunities for a successful defence, chooses Mr. Orcutt for his counsel, and trusts the secret to him. The trial goes on; acquittal seems certain, when suddenly she is recalled to the stand, and he hears words which make him think she is going to betray him by some falsehood, when, instead of following the lead of the prosecution, she launches into a personal confession. What does he do? Why, rise and hold up his hand in a command for her to stop. But she does not heed, and the rest follows as a matter of course. The life she throws away he will not accept. He is innocent, but his defence is false! He says so, and leaves the jury to decide on the verdict. There can be no doubt," Hickory finally concluded, "that some of these circumstances are consistent only with his belief that Miss Dare is a murderess: such, for instance, as his scratching out her face in the picture. Others favor the theory in a less degree, but this is what I want to impress upon both your minds," he declared, turning first to Mr. Ferris and then to Mr. Byrd: "If any fact, no matter how slight, leads us to the conviction that Craik Mansell, at any time after the murder, entertained the belief that Miss Dare committed it, his innocence follows as a matter of course. For the guilty could never entertain a belief in the guilt of any other person."

"Yes," said Mr. Ferris, "I admit that, but we have got to see into Mr. Mansell's mind before we can tell what his belief really was."

"No," was Hickory's reply; "let us look at his actions. I say that that defaced picture is conclusive. One day he loves that woman and wants her to marry him; the next, he defaces her picture. Why? She had not offended him. Not a word, not a line, passes between them to cause him to commit this act. But he does hear of his aunt's murder, and he does recall her sinister promise: 'Wait; there is no telling what a day will bring forth.' I say that no other cause for his act is shown except his conviction that she is a murderess."

"But," persisted Mr. Ferris, "his leaving the house, as he acknowledges he did, by this unfrequented and circuitous road?"

"I have said before that I cannot explain his presence there, or his flight. All I am now called upon to show is, some fact inconsistent with any thing except a belief in this young woman's guilt. I claim I have shown it, and, as you admit, Mr. Ferris, if I show that, he is innocent."

"Yes," said Byrd, speaking for the first time; "but we have heard of people manufacturing evidence in their own behalf."

"Come, Byrd," replied Hickory, "you don't seriously mean to attack my position with that suggestion. How could a man dream of manufacturing evidence of such a character? A murderer manufactures evidence to throw suspicion on other people. No fool could suppose that scratching out the face of a girl in a photograph and locking it up in his own desk, would tend to bring her to the scaffold, or save him from it."

"And, yet," rejoined Byrd, "that very act acquits him in your eyes. All that is necessary is to give him credit for being smart enough to foresee that it would have such a tendency in the eyes of any person who discovered the picture."

"Then," said Hickory, "he would also have to foresee that she would accuse herself of murder when he was on trial for it, and that he would thereupon withdraw his defence. Byrd, you are foreseeing too much. My friend Mansell possesses no such power of looking into the future as that."

"Your friend Mansell!" repeated Mr. Ferris, with a smile. "If you were on his jury, I suppose your bias in his favor would lead you to acquit him of this crime?"

"I should declare him 'Not guilty,' and stick to it, if I had to be locked up for a year."

Mr. Ferris sank into an attitude of profound thought. Horace Byrd, impressed by this, looked at him anxiously.

"Have your convictions been shaken by Hickory's ingenious theory?" he ventured to inquire at last.

Mr. Ferris abstractedly replied:

"This is no time for me to state my convictions. It is enough that you comprehend my perplexity." And, relapsing into his former condition, he remained for a moment wrapped in silence, then he said: "Byrd, how comes it that the humpback who excited so much attention on the day of the murder was never found?"

Byrd, astonished, surveyed the District Attorney with a doubtful look that gradually changed into one of quiet satisfaction as he realized the significance of this recurrence to old theories and suspicions. His answer, however, was slightly embarrassed in tone, though frank enough to remind one of Hickory's blunt-spoken admissions.

"Well," said he, "I suppose the main reason is that I made no attempt to find him."

"Do you think that you were wise in that, Mr. Byrd?" inquired Mr. Ferris, with some severity.

Horace laughed.

"I