Tales of Terror and Mystery
"How do you know that?" he asked harshly.
"I have been to the surgery door, sir."
"I see a light," said the young squire, looking up the drive. "That is
in his study, is it not?"
"Yes, sir; but I am sure that he is out."
"Well, he must come in again," said young Morton, and passed through
the gate while Mrs. Madding went upon her homeward way.
At three o'clock that morning her husband suffered a sharp relapse, and
she was so alarmed by his symptoms that she determined to call the
doctor without delay. As she passed through the gate she was surprised
to see someone lurking among the laurel bushes. It was certainly a man,
and to the best of her belief Mr. Arthur Morton. Preoccupied with her
own troubles, she gave no particular attention to the incident, but
hurried on upon her errand.
When she reached the house she perceived to her surprise that the light
was still burning in the study. She therefore tapped at the surgery
door. There was no answer. She repeated the knocking several times
without effect. It appeared to her to be unlikely that the doctor
would either go to bed or go out leaving so brilliant a light behind
him, and it struck Mrs. Madding that it was possible that he might have
dropped asleep in his chair. She tapped at the study window,
therefore, but without result. Then, finding that there was an opening
between the curtain and the woodwork, she looked through.
The small room was brilliantly lighted from a large lamp on the central
table, which was littered with the doctor's books and instruments. No
one was visible, nor did she see anything unusual, except that in the
farther shadow thrown by the table a dingy white glove was lying upon
the carpet. And then suddenly, as her eyes became more accustomed to
the light, a boot emerged from the other end of the shadow, and she
realized, with a thrill of horror, that what she had taken to be a
glove was the hand of a man, who was prostrate upon the floor.
Understanding that something terrible had occurred, she rang at the
front door, roused Mrs. Woods, the housekeeper, and the two women made
their way into the study, having first dispatched the maidservant to
the police-station.
At the side of the table, away from the window, Dr. Lana was discovered
stretched upon his back and quite dead. It was evident that he had
been subjected to violence, for one of his eyes was blackened and there
were marks of bruises about his face and neck. A slight thickening and
swelling of his features appeared to suggest that the cause of his
death had been strangulation. He was dressed in his usual professional
clothes, but wore cloth slippers, the soles of which were perfectly
clean. The carpet was marked all over, especially on the side of the
door, with traces of dirty boots, which were presumably left by the
murderer. It was evident that someone had entered by the surgery door,
had killed the doctor, and had then made his escape unseen. That the
assailant was a man was certain, from the size of the footprints and
from the nature of the injuries. But beyond that point the police
found it very difficult to go.
There were no signs of robbery, and the doctor's gold watch was safe in
his pocket. He kept a heavy cash-box in the room, and this was
discovered to be locked but empty. Mrs. Woods had an impression that a
large sum was usually kept there, but the doctor had paid a heavy corn
bill in cash only that very day, and it was conjectured that it was to
this and not to a robber that the emptiness of the box was due. One
thing in the room was missing--but that one thing was suggestive. The
portrait of Miss Morton, which had always stood upon the side-table,
had been taken from its frame, and carried off. Mrs. Woods had
observed it there when she waited upon her employer that evening, and
now it was gone. On the other hand, there was picked up from the floor
a green eye-patch, which the housekeeper could not remember to have
seen before. Such a patch might, however, be in the possession of a
doctor, and there was nothing to indicate that it was in any way
connected with the crime.
Suspicion could only turn in one direction, and Arthur Morton, the
young squire, was immediately arrested. The evidence against him was
circumstantial, but damning. He was devoted to his sister, and it was
shown that since the rupture between her and Dr. Lana he had been heard
again and again to express himself in the most vindictive terms towards
her former lover. He had, as stated, been seen somewhere about eleven
o'clock entering the doctor's drive with a hunting-crop in his hand.
He had then, according to the theory of the police, broken in upon the
doctor, whose exclamation of fear or of anger had been loud enough to
attract the attention of Mrs. Woods. When Mrs. Woods descended, Dr.
Lana had made up his mind to talk it over with his visitor, and had,
therefore, sent his housekeeper back to her room. This conversation
had lasted a long time, had become more and more fiery, and had ended
by a personal struggle, in which the doctor lost his life. The fact,
revealed by a post-mortem, that his heart was much diseased--an ailment
quite unsuspected during his life--would make it possible that death
might in his case ensue from injuries which would not be fatal to a
healthy man. Arthur Morton had then removed his sister's photograph,
and had made his way homeward, stepping aside into the laurel bushes to
avoid Mrs. Madding at the gate. This was the theory of the
prosecution, and the case which they presented was a formidable one.
On the other hand, there were some strong points for the defence.
Morton was high-spirited and impetuous, like his sister, but he was
respected and liked by everyone, and his frank and honest nature seemed
to be incapable of such a crime. His own explanation was that he was
anxious to have a conversation with Dr. Lana about some urgent family
matters (from first to last he refused even to mention the name of his
sister). He did not attempt to deny that this conversation would
probably have been of an unpleasant nature. He had heard from a
patient that the doctor was out, and he therefore waited until about
three in the morning for his return, but as he had seen nothing of him
up to that hour, he had given it up and had returned home. As to his
death, he knew no more about it than the constable who arrested him.
He had formerly been an intimate friend of the deceased man; but
circumstances, which he would prefer not to mention, had brought about
a change in his sentiments.
There were several facts which supported his innocence. It was certain
that Dr. Lana was alive and in his study at half-past eleven o'clock.
Mrs. Woods was prepared to swear that it was at that hour that she had
heard his voice. The friends of the prisoner contended that it was
probable that at that time Dr. Lana was not alone. The sound which had
originally attracted the attention of the housekeeper, and her master's
unusual impatience that she should leave him in peace, seemed to point
to that. If this were so then it appeared to be probable that he had
met his end between the moment when the housekeeper heard his voice and
the time when Mrs. Madding made her first call and found it impossible
to attract his attention. But if this were the time of his death, then
it was certain that Mr. Arthur Morton could not be guilty, as it was
AFTER this that she had met the young squire at the gate.
If this hypothesis were correct, and someone was with Dr. Lana before
Mrs. Madding met Mr. Arthur Morton, then who was this someone, and what
motives had he for wishing evil to the doctor? It was universally
admitted that if the friends of the accused could throw light upon
this, they would have gone a long way towards establishing his
innocence. But in the meanwhile it was open to the public to say--as
they did say--that there was no proof that anyone had been there at all
except the young squire; while, on the other hand, there was ample
proof that his motives in going were of a sinister kind. When Mrs.
Madding called, the doctor might have retired to his room, or he might,
as she thought at the time, have gone out and returned afterwards to
find Mr. Arthur Morton waiting for him. Some of the supporters of the
accused laid stress upon the fact that the photograph of his sister
Frances, which had been removed from the doctor's room, had not been
found in her brother's possession. This argument, however, did not
count for much, as he had ample time before his arrest to burn it or to
destroy it. As to the only positive evidence in the case--the muddy
footmarks upon the floor--they were so blurred by the softness of the
carpet that it was impossible to make any trustworthy deduction from
them. The most that could be said was that their appearance was not
inconsistent with the theory that they were made by the accused, and it
was further shown that his boots were very muddy upon that night.
There had been a heavy shower in the afternoon, and all boots were
probably in the same condition.
Such is a bald statement of the singular and romantic series of events
which centred public attention upon this Lancashire tragedy. The
unknown origin of the doctor, his curious and distinguished
personality, the position of the man who was accused of the murder, and
the love affair which had preceded the crimes all combined to make the
affair one of those dramas which absorb the whole interest of a nation.
Throughout the three kingdoms men discussed the case of the Black
Doctor of Bishop's Crossing, and many were the theories put forward to
explain the facts; but it may safely be said that among them all there
was not one which prepared the minds of the public for the
extraordinary sequel, which caused so much excitement upon the first
day of the trial, and came to a climax upon the second. The long files
of the Lancaster Weekly with their report of the case lie before me as
I write, but I must content myself with a synopsis of the case up to
the point when, upon the evening of the first day, the evidence of Miss
Frances Morton threw a singular light upon the case.
Mr. Porlock Carr, the counsel for the prosecution, had marshalled his
facts with his usual skill, and as the day wore on, it became more and
more evident how difficult was the task which Mr. Humphrey, who had
been retained for the defence, had before him. Several witnesses were
put up to swear to the intemperate expressions which the young squire
had been heard to utter about the doctor, and the fiery manner in which
he resented the alleged ill-treatment of his sister. Mrs. Madding
repeated her evidence as to the visit which had been paid late at night
by the prisoner to the deceased, and it was shown by another witness
that the prisoner was aware that the doctor was in the habit of sitting
up alone in this isolated wing of the house, and that he had chosen
this very late hour to call because he knew that his victim would then
be at his mercy. A servant at the squire's house was compelled to
admit that he had heard his master return about three that morning,
which corroborated Mrs. Madding's statement that she had seen him among
the laurel bushes near the gate upon the occasion of her second visit.
The muddy boots and an alleged similarity in the footprints were duly
dwelt upon, and it was felt when the case for the prosecution had been
presented that, however circumstantial it might be, it was none the
less so complete and so convincing, that the fate of the prisoner was
sealed, unless something quite unexpected should be disclosed by the
defence. It was three o'clock when the prosecution closed. At
half-past four, when the court rose, a new and unlooked-for development