“I suppose you’ll charge for bringing Cousin Henry into the court,” said the auctioneer. They had all got to call him Cousin Henry since the idea had got abroad that he had robbed his Cousin Isabel.
“I’d bring him too for nothing, and stand him his lunch into the bargain, rather than that he shouldn’t have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Cheekey.”
“Cheekey will get it out of him, if there is anything to get,” said Mr. Evans.
“My belief is that Mr. Cheekey will about strike him dumb. If he has got anything in his bosom to conceal, he will be so awestruck that he won’t be able to open his mouth. He won’t be got to say he did it, but he won’t be able to say he didn’t.” This was Mr. Geary’s opinion.
“What would that amount to?” asked Mr. Powell. “I’m afraid they couldn’t give the place back to the young lady because of that.”
“The jury would acquit Mr. Evans. That’s about what it would amount to,” said the attorney.
“And Cousin Henry would go back to Llanfeare, and have all his troubles over,” remarked Mr. Jones. This they deemed to be a disastrous termination to all the trouble which they were taking, but one which seemed by no means improbable.
They all agreed that even Mr. Cheekey would hardly be able to extract from the man an acknowledgment that he had with his own hands destroyed the will. Such a termination as that to a cross-examination had never been known under the hands of the most expert of advocates. That Cousin Henry might be stricken dumb, that he might faint, that he might be committed for contempt of court—all these events were possible, or perhaps, not impossible; but that he should say, “Yes, I did it, I burnt the will. Yes, I, with my own hands,”—that they all declared to be impossible. And, if so, Cousin Henry would go back again to Llanfeare confirmed in his possession of the property.
“He will only laugh at us in his sleeve when it is over,” said the auctioneer.
They little knew the torments which the man was enduring, or how unlikely it was that he should laugh in his sleeve at anyone. We are too apt to forget when we think of the sins and faults of men how keen may be their conscience in spite of their sins. While they were thus talking of Cousin Henry, he was vainly endeavouring to console himself with the reflection that he had not committed any great crime, that there was still a road open to him for repentance, that if only he might be allowed to escape and repent in London, he would be too glad to resign Llanfeare and all its glories. The reader will hardly suppose that Cousin Henry will return after the trial to laugh in his sleeve in his own library in his own house.
A few days afterwards Mr. Apjohn was up in town and had an interview with Mr. Balsam, the barrister. “This client of mine does not seem to be a nice sort of country gentleman,” said Mr. Balsam.
“Anything but that. You will understand, Mr. Balsam, that my only object in persuading him to indict the paper has been to put him into a witness-box. I told him so, of course. I explained to him that unless he would appear there, he could never hold up his head.”
“And he took your advice.”
“Very unwillingly. He would have given his right hand to escape. But I gave him no alternative. I so put it before him that he could not refuse to do as I bade him without owning himself to be a rascal. Shall I tell you what I think will come of it?”
“What will come of it?”
“He will not appear. I feel certain that he will not have the courage to show himself in the court. When the day comes, or, perhaps, a day or two before, he will run away.”
“What will you do then?”
“Ah, that’s the question. What shall we do then? He is bound to prosecute, and will have to pay the penalty. In such a case as this I think we could have him found and brought into court for the next assizes. But what could we do then? Though we were ever so rough to him in the way of contempt of court and the rest of it, we cannot take the property away. If he has got hold of the will and destroyed it, or hidden it, we can do nothing as to the property as long as he is strong enough to hold his tongue. If he can be made to speak, then I think we shall get at it.”
Mr. Balsam shook his head. He was quite willing to believe that his client was as base as Mr. Apjohn represented him to be; but he was not willing to believe that Mr. Cheekey was as powerful as had been assumed.
XVIII
Cousin Henry Goes to Carmarthen
On his return from London Mr. Apjohn wrote the following letter to his client, and this he sent to Llanfeare by a clerk, who was instructed to wait there for an answer:—
My dear Sir—
I have just returned from London, where I saw Mr. Balsam, who will be employed on your behalf at the assizes. It is necessary that you should come into my office, so that I may complete the instructions which are to be given to counsel. As I could not very well do this at Llanfeare without considerable inconvenience, I must give you this trouble. My clerk who takes this out to you will bring back your answer, saying whether eleven in the morning tomorrow or three in the afternoon will best suit your arrangements. You can tell him also whether you would wish me to send a fly for you. I believe
