“ ‘Was it conceivable, therefore,’ argued Sir James, ‘that in the space of half an hour the accused—a young girl—could have found her way surreptitiously into the house, at a time when the entire household was still astir, that she should have strangled Lady Donaldson, forced open the safe, and made away with the jewels? A man—an experienced burglar might have done it, but I contend that the accused is physically incapable of accomplishing such a feat.
“ ‘With regard to the broken engagement,’ continued the eminent counsel with a smile, ‘it may have seemed a little heartless, certainly, but heartlessness is no crime in the eyes of the law. The accused has stated in her declaration that at the time she wrote to Mr. David Graham, breaking off her engagement, she had heard nothing of the Edinburgh tragedy.
“ ‘The London papers had reported the crime very briefly. The accused was busy shopping; she knew nothing of Mr. David Graham’s altered position. In no case was the breaking off of the engagement a proof that the accused had obtained possession of the jewels by so foul a deed.’
“It is, of course, impossible for me,” continued the man in the corner apologetically, “to give you any idea of the eminent advocate’s eloquence and masterful logic. It struck everyone, I think, just as it did me, that he chiefly directed his attention to the fact that there was absolutely no proof against the accused.
“Be that as it may, the result of that remarkable trial was a verdict of ‘Non Proven.’ The jury was absent forty minutes, and it appears that in the mind of every one of them there remained, in spite of Sir James’ arguments, a firmly rooted conviction—call it instinct, if you like—that Edith Crawford had done away with Lady Donaldson in order to become possessed of those jewels, and that in spite of the pompous jeweller’s many contradictions, she had offered him some of those diamonds for sale. But there was not enough proof to convict, and she was given the benefit of the doubt.
“I have heard English people argue that in England she would have been hanged. Personally I doubt that. I think that an English jury, not having the judicial loophole of ‘Non Proven,’ would have been bound to acquit her. What do you think?”
XVII
Undeniable Facts
There was a moment’s silence, for Polly did not reply immediately, and he went on making impossible knots in his bit of string. Then she said quietly—
“I think that I agree with those English people who say that an English jury would have condemned her. … I have no doubt that she was guilty. She may not have committed that awful deed herself. Someone in the Charlotte Square house may have been her accomplice and killed and robbed Lady Donaldson while Edith Crawford waited outside for the jewels. David Graham left his godmother at 8:30 p.m. If the accomplice was one of the servants in the house, he or she would have had plenty of time for any amount of villainy, and Edith Crawford could have yet caught the 9:10 p.m. train from the Caledonian Station.”
“Then who, in your opinion,” he asked sarcastically, and cocking his funny birdlike head on one side, “tried to sell diamond earrings to Mr. Campbell, the jeweller?”
“Edith Crawford, of course,” she retorted triumphantly; “he and his clerk both recognized her.”
“When did she try to sell them the earrings?”
“Ah, that is what I cannot quite make out, and there to my mind lies the only mystery in this case. On the 25th she was certainly in London, and it is not very likely that she would go back to Edinburgh in order to dispose of the jewels there, where they could most easily be traced.”
“Not very likely, certainly,” he assented drily.
“And,” added the young girl, “on the day before she left for London, Lady Donaldson was alive.”
“And pray,” he said suddenly, as with comic complacency he surveyed a beautiful knot he had just twisted up between his long fingers, “what has that fact got to do with it?”
“But it has everything to do with it!” she retorted.
“Ah, there you go,” he sighed with comic emphasis. “My teachings don’t seem to have improved your powers of reasoning. You are as bad as the police. Lady Donaldson has been robbed and murdered, and you immediately argue that she was robbed and murdered by the same person.”
“But—” argued Polly.
“There is no but,” he said, getting more and more excited. “See how simple it is. Edith Crawford wears the diamonds one night, then she brings them back to Lady Donaldson’s room. Remember the maid’s statement: ‘My lady said: “Have you put them back, my dear?” ’—a simple statement, utterly ignored by the prosecution. But what did it mean? That Lady Donaldson could not see for herself whether Edith Crawford had put back the jewels or not, since she asked the question.”
“Then you argue—”
“I never argue,” he interrupted excitedly; “I state undeniable facts. Edith Crawford, who wanted to steal the jewels, took them then and there, when she had the opportunity. Why in the world should she have waited? Lady Donaldson was in bed, and Tremlett, the maid, had gone.
“The next day—namely, the 25th—she tries to dispose of a pair of earrings to Mr. Campbell; she fails, and decides to go to London, where she has a better chance. Sir James Fenwick did not think it desirable to bring forward witnesses to prove what I have since ascertained is a fact, namely, that on the 27th of October, three days before her arrest, Miss Crawford crossed over to Belgium, and came
