When the action against his Lordship was first threatened by Goarly, and when it was understood that Scrobby had backed him with money, there was a feeling that Scrobby was doing rather a fine thing. He had not, indeed, used his money openly, as the Senator had afterwards done; but that was not Scrobby’s way. If Goarly had been ill-used any help was legitimate, and the party as a party was proud of their man. But when it came to pass that poison had been laid down, “wholesale” as the hunting men said, in Dillsborough Wood, in the close vicinity of Goarly’s house, then the party hesitated. Such strategy as that was disgusting;—but was there reason to think that Scrobby had been concerned in the matter? Scrobby still had an income, and ate roast meat or boiled every day for his dinner. Was it likely that such a man should deal in herrings and strychnine?
Nickem had been at work for the last three months, backed up by funds which had latterly been provided by the lord’s agent, and had in truth run the matter down. Nickem had found out all about it, and in his pride had resigned his stool in Mr. Masters’ office. But the Scrobby party in Rufford could not bring itself to believe that Nickem was correct. That Goarly’s hand had actually placed the herrings no man either at Rufford or Dillsborough had doubted. Such was now Nickem’s story. But of what avail would be the evidence of such a man as Goarly against such a man as Scrobby? It would be utterly worthless unless corroborated, and the Scrobby party was not yet aware how clever Nickem had been. Thus all Rufford was interested in the case.
Lord Rufford, Sir George Penwether, his Lordship’s agent, and Mr. Gotobed, had been summoned as witnesses—the expenditure of money by the Senator having by this time become notorious; and on the morning of the trial they all went into the town in his Lordship’s drag. The Senator, as the guest, was on the box-seat with his Lordship, and as they passed old Runce trotting into Rufford on his nag, Mr. Gotobed began to tell the story of yesterday’s meeting, complaining of the absurdity of the old farmer’s anger.
“Penwether told me about it,” said the Lord.
“I suppose your tenant is a little crazy.”
“By no means. I thought he was right in what he said, if I understood Penwether.”
“He couldn’t have been right. He turned from me in disgust simply because I tried to explain to him that a rogue has as much right to be defended by the law as an honest man.”
“Runce looks upon these men as vermin which ought to be hunted down.”
“But they are not vermin. They are men;—and till they have been found guilty they are innocent men.”
“If a man had murdered your child, would he be innocent in your eyes till he was convicted?”
“I hope so;—but I should be very anxious to bring home the crime against him. And should he be found guilty even then he should not be made subject to other punishment than that the law awards. Mr. Runce is angry with me because I do not think that Goarly should be crushed under the heels of all his neighbours. Take care, my Lord. Didn’t we come round that corner rather sharp?”
Then Lord Rufford emphatically declared that such men as Scrobby and Goarly should be crushed, and the Senator, with an inward sigh declared that between landlord and tenant, between peer and farmer, between legislator and rustic, there was, in capacity for logical inference, no difference whatever. The British heart might be all right; but the British head was—ah—hopelessly wooden! It would be his duty to say so in his lecture, and perhaps some good might be done to so gracious but so stolid a people, if only they could be got to listen.
Scrobby had got down a barrister from London, and therefore the case was allowed to drag itself out through the whole day. Lord Rufford, as a magistrate, went on to the bench himself—though he explained that he only took his seat there as a spectator. Sir George and Mr. Gotobed were also allowed to sit in the high place—though the Senator complained even of this. Goarly and Scrobby were not allowed to be there, and Lord Rufford, in his opinion, should also have been debarred from such a privilege. A long time was occupied before even a jury could be sworn, the barrister earning his money by browbeating the provincial bench and putting various obstacles in the way of the trial. As he was used to practice at the assizes of course he was able to domineer. This juror would not do, nor that. The chairman was all wrong in his law. The officers of the Court knew nothing about it. At first there was quite a triumph for the Scrobbyites, and even Nickem himself was
