Three millions! or, The way of the world
Dick.
Dr. Bilks stepped down from the stand so weak and exhausted, that his
condition excited the attention of the audience, especially of Eugene,
though none could imagine what it all meant.
CHAPTER XVI.
DR. BILKS’S BABY.
No one suspected Dr. Bilks of anything; and if his memory had not been
so utterly treacherous respecting his obstetric patient “beyond the
Point,” his testimony would have been faultless. It would have added to
his credit as a man and as a physician; for while he spoke the whole
truth, he was tender of his friends, and he appeared to be unbiassed,
just, and reasonable. No one had said a word against the doctor; no
one had whispered a breath of suspicion upon his character. All the
evidences against him were his bad memory, and his condition as he came
down from the stand.
Eugene Hungerford was called next. He confirmed all that Dr. Bilks had
said about the plan to procure the re-marriage of Mary, and explained
Ross Kingman’s state of mind just before the murder. His testimony
simply showed that, with others, he did not believe she was the wife of
Buckstone.
Dick Birch was called after the deputy sheriff had been examined; and
when he took the stand there was a decided sensation in the court-room.
The audience whispered one to another, and there was a general
expectation that Dr. Bilks’s agency in the affair would be exposed;
that the reason for the severe cross-examination of the popular
physician would be made apparent. The government attorney had wondered,
as much as others, why the junior counsel for the defence had pressed
the doctor so sharply on an apparently unimportant point, and he hoped
that the mystery would be probed.
“Mr. Birch, you were intimate with the prisoner, and with all the
parties connected with the murder?” said the prosecuting attorney, when
the usual preliminary questions had been disposed of.
“I was; the prisoner, with myself, was in the employ of Mr.
Hungerford,” replied Dick.
“When did you see him last before the murder?”
“At the house of Mr. Hungerford, about nine o’clock on the evening of
the murder.”
“How did he appear?”
“As usual; I saw him but a moment, as he was leaving the house.”
“Did you see him after the murder?”
“Not till I saw him in the jail this morning, as one of his counsel.”
“You wished to procure the re-marriage of the prisoner’s sister?”
“I did.”
“You had made an arrangement for this purpose?”
“With Mr. Hungerford--I had.”
“Did you speak to the prisoner about it?”
“I did not.”
“Why did you wish to procure the re-marriage of the murdered man with
the prisoner’s sister?”
“For two reasons.”
Dr. Bilks had by this time recovered his self-possession and his bodily
strength. His seat in the court-room was near that of the government
attorney, and he was observed to be working his chair nearer and nearer
to the questioner. The doctor was nervous and uneasy. He realized the
awkwardness of his situation--to use the mildest term applicable to it,
and those who observed the movements he made concluded that he had some
suggestions to offer. When the attorney for the government put the last
question, Dr. Bilks, who was leaning over the table with a pen in his
hand, wrote a few lines on a sheet of paper. After the disagreeable
impression he had produced by his evident prevarication on the stand,
it would be quite natural for him to attempt to do something to redeem
himself. It was supposed that he was now engaged in this work.
The government attorney was in a confused state of mind, and was now
feeling his way. There was something covered up--something he could not
understand; and when he saw Dr. Bilks working towards him, he expected
some hint or suggestion which would enable him to find the truth.
“For two reasons, Mr. Birch. Name them, if you please.”
“I desired the marriage, first, for the lady’s sake. Her position was
at least a doubtful one; I desired to heal her wounds.”
“Very praiseworthy, no doubt, Mr. Birch. What was the other reason?”
“I was afraid Mr. Hungerford would marry her himself,” replied Dick,
desperately, for it required no little effort for him to say this in
open court.
“Then Mr. Hungerford had been attached to this lady before her supposed
marriage with the deceased?”
“He had been.”
“Why did you suppose he would marry her, after her connection with
Buckstone?”
“Because his interest in her remains undiminished.”
“Did Mr. Hungerford ever mention such an intention in his letters to
you from Europe, or in conversation?”
“He did not.”
“Did you think you had good reasons for believing Mr. Hungerford would
take such a step?”
“I felt satisfied that he would, from my knowledge of the man, and
of his state of feeling, if the lady’s marriage with Buckstone was
illegal, or if the union could not be legally established.”
“Did you tell him so?”
“I did not.”
“You were his confidential friend and adviser--were you not?”
“I was.”
“And you did not speak to him of a matter so important?”
“I did not; I intended to do so at a proper time. He reached home from
Europe only a few hours before the murder.”
“But you deemed it your duty to prevent the marriage of Mr. Hungerford
with the prisoner’s sister, if such a marriage should prove to be
possible?”
“I did; I proposed the plan to Mr. Hungerford at once.”
“Did you state to him both of your reasons for doing so?”
“I did not. I did not deem it advisable to do so at that time.”
“Mr. Hungerford assented to your plan?”
“He did.”
“Would he, in your opinion, have assented, if your fears that he would
marry the lady himself were well grounded?”
“I do not believe the thought of marrying her himself had yet occurred
to him.”
“May it please the court, Mr. Hungerford is not on trial,” interposed
Mr. Darling, “and the examination seems to be taking a very wide range.”
“What do you expect to prove by this witness, Mr. Lowe?” asked the
magistrate.
“Mr. Birch will presently testify that he was on the island with Mr.
Buckstone, just before the murder; and I wish to show the purpose for
which he was there,” replied Mr. Lowe.
Dick’s face was slightly flushed at this reply; but he did not
interrupt the proceedings.
“This examination is simply to ascertain whether there is sufficient
evidence to justify the holding of the prisoner in custody on the
charge of murder,” continued the magistrate. “It seems to me this point
has already been reached.”
“May it please the court, there is no evidence, except the partial
acknowledgments of the prisoner, which must be taken with great
caution, that a murder has been committed. As this witness was on the
island at the time of the murder, it is possible that he may have
seen the deed done, or at least seen the body of the deceased after
it was done. This witness has thus far been exceedingly reticent. It
does not appear, though he knew what took place on the island, that he
gave information of the murder that night, or even in the morning. I
wish, therefore, to show his object in going upon The Great Bell with
Buckstone. I wish the court to understand what the deceased was doing
at the time he was killed. It can only be shown by this witness.”
“Go on, Mr. Lowe.”
While the government attorney was making this explanation, Dr. Bilks,
unnoticed, had placed the paper he had written on the table before
him, and on the top of his notes, so that he could not fail to see it.
Mr. Lowe, as he resumed his seat, and glanced at his notes to discover
where he had left off, saw the paper Dr. Bilks had placed there. He
read it, and appeared to comprehend its meaning without explanation.
“Mr. Birch, you do not believe Mr. Hungerford had yet thought of
marrying the prisoner’s sister?”
“I do not believe he had--of course I do not know.”
“Mr. Birch, what are your relations in the Hungerford family?”
Dick explained them.
“Of course you are acquainted with Miss Julia Hungerford?”
“I am;” but Dick blushed, as well he might, when Julia was dragged into
the court.
“What were your relations with her?”
“I had no relations with her, except those of ordinary courtesy and
friendship,” answered Dick, indignantly.
“Did you correspond with her while she was in Europe?”
“I did.”
Mr. Darling objected very earnestly; but Mr. Lowe was able to show to
the satisfaction of the thick-headed magistrate that his course of
examination was absolutely essential to the prosecution.
“Mr. Birch, has Miss Julia Hungerford any fortune?”
“She has--twenty thousand dollars left her by her uncle.”
“Has she any expectations, real or contingent?”
“If her brother, at the age of thirty, has no son, named John, she will
come into possession of half a million.”
Dick knew what was coming, and he braced himself for the issue.
“Mr. Birch, have you intended, expected, or desired to marry Miss
Hungerford?”
“I object, your honor,” protested Mr. Darling, with as much violence as
respect for the bullet-headed magistrate would permit.
Again Mr. Lowe explained that this evidence was essential to establish
the fact of, and the provocation for, the murder; and again the
blockhead on the bench permitted him to proceed. He repeated his
question.
“I neither intended nor expected--I desired.”
“Have you not acknowledged that you were attached to her?”
“In the confidence of friendship, I did,” he replied, glancing at Dr.
Bilks, who was now having his revenge for the severe cross-examination
to which he had been subjected, and under which he had been so terribly
exercised.
“Was there anything to prevent your marriage with Miss Hungerford--are
you aware of any impediment?”
“I am not.”
“Would her mother or her brother have objected?”
“I think not.”
“The marriage, then, was possible, and even probable?”
“It was possible.”
“Was it not probable?”
“I am not capable of judging.”
“You were attached to the lady, and you are aware of no impediment. Did
you not, therefore, expect to marry her?”
“I hoped to do so--I hardly expected it.”
“You intended to marry her--did you not, Mr. Birch?”
“I could not intend to do what it was not possible for me to do alone,”
replied Dick, with entire self-possession.
“On your own part, then, you intended to marry her, and you knew of no
impediment? Was this your position?”
“It was then, but it is not now?”
“Why not now?”
“These events have made it impossible.”
Even the magistrate, who sat, wood upon wood, on the bench, did not
think “this line” was competent, and Mr. Lowe began to draw nearer to
the real question; but in the course of his explanation to the court,
he artfully reviewed the point he had apparently established--that the
witness wished to prevent Hungerford’s marriage with the prisoner’s
sister, in order that the contingent half million of dollars might come
into her (Julia’s) possession, and thence into his own hands, when she
became his wife; thus showing the strong motives which Dick had for
meeting Buckstone privately.
“Mr. Birch, were you with the deceased on The Great Bell, just before
the murder?”
“I was not.”
“You were not?” demanded Mr. Lowe, apparently confounded by the answer.
“I was not.”
“When did you last see Buckstone?”
“On The Great Bell, nearly a year ago.”
“Haven’t you seen him recently?”
“I have not.”
“On your oath, do you say you were not with him on the night of the
murder?”
“On my oath, I do say so.”
“Where were you at that time?”
“In Mr. Hungerford’s house, at Pine Hill.”
“What time did you retire that night?”
“At about ten o’clock.”
“Did you go out of the house that night?”
“As I was going up stairs, I opened the front door, and stepped out to
see what the weather was.”
“Did you put on your hat?”
“I did not.”