CHAPTER XIX.

Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow. KING RICHARD III.

It was not until long after noon of the day of trial that Affidavy woke from the stupefaction into which he was plunged by the cup he had so craftily qualified; and then it was some time before he could summon his recollection, and conceive where he was. He found himself in a cell obviously of the prison; for the single window that lighted it was strongly grated, and the door fast bolted on the outside. There was a bed hard by, in which, as was apparent from its condition, some one had passed the night; but who that might have been he knew not, no one being now visible. As for himself, he found that his couch had been nothing better than the hard floor; and close by where he lay, he discovered a pool of coagulated blood. He was seized with alarm, and finding the door refuse all egress, he ran to the window, and beheld in the yard which it overlooked, a sight that, besides filling him with new terror, conveyed an inkling to his mind of his true situation and its cause. This was nothing less than the dead bodies of two men, lying stiff and gory upon a bench, without even a cloth to conceal them from the light of day.

"Botheration, and God bless my soul!" he cried, "I'm a ruined man!"

"Done up,--as clean as a skinned eel," said a voice at his back; and, looking round, he beheld his friend, the jailer, enter the cell, with a grim smile on his visage, which was not much improved in beauty by a red handkerchief, that swathed it round from jaw to top-knot. "Done up, Teffy, my boy, as slick as a new bolt. Who'll you have for your counsel?--or do you think of pleading your own cause? Ods bobs, you can make a good speech;--I always said that for you."

"Counsel!--cause!--speech!" echoed the man of law;--"God bless our two souls!"

"Amen,--or e'er a one of 'em," said Lingo, with solemn utterance; "for I'm thinking it will go hard with one of us. Howsomever, I'm glad to see you in your senses. Sorry you had so hard a bed of it; but howsomever, when they hang your client up there, I'll give you better quarters. I reckon, it will be imprisonment for life with you; though some says, they are to try you on the capital charge of aiding and 'betting with the tories, which is clean hanging treason."

"God bless our two souls!" said Affidavy, with an air of wo and terror so irresistibly ludicrous, that Lingo, perceiving his utterance failed to supply any further expressions, burst into a loud laugh, and threw himself on the vacant bed, where he rolled over and over, giving way to mirth and triumph together.

"Blarney and ods bobs!" he cried, after he had amused himself awhile in this fashion; "and so you thought to come the humbug over _me_, old Teff! Ha, ha, ha! I always said you could make a good speech, and so you can; but as to pulling straws with Bob Lingo, why I never said no such thing, for I won't lie for no man. How did you like the cock-tail, with the cherry-bounce and doctor's stuff in it? Ods bobs, did you think I could go any such liquor as that? But now you see what you've come to,--clean done up, broke, smashed, pounded into hominy, and cribbed under lock and key. So much for not playing fair, and making honest snacks of the plunder! Where's them seventeen guineas in goold? and the note for two thousand more? Oh, you old ox-fly! would you have sucked the poor young feller's blood?"

At the mention of these valuables, Affidavy, who stood mute with surprise and dismay, clapped his hands into his pockets, first into one and then the other, and groaned to find them empty. "You've robbed me, Bob Lingo!" he said.

"As clean as ever I curried a horse," said the jailer, betaking himself to his own pockets, and displaying both the money and the treacherous note, the latter of which he moved before Affidavy's eyes with peculiar glee, saying,

"Here's evidence that'll be a smasher; and then the bottle of laudanum! Oh, you old Teff," he cried, shaking his fist, but more in exultation than anger, "when you mean to p'ison any of your friends, don't you go for to get the p'ison the same day; lay it up a month before-hand. Ods bobs, if you wasn't as poor as a rat, I'd have an action ag'in you on my own account, for an attempt to murder. But, ods bobs, I do think now you look like a singed cat,--I do, Affidavy!"

Here he burst into another roar, having indulged which, he rose, and satisfied with the terror he had inflicted, proceeded very coolly to inform the discomfited prisoner that his case was not so bad as he thought; that he had not 'blowed him' yet; and that he didn't know whether he would, for he was a merciful man in his way. "I smoked you, Affidavy," said he, "as soon as I heard you talk of _your_ client, and saw you show that 'ere guinea,--'specially when you fell so much in love with me of a sudden, and with the jail here. I sent Hans after you, and he saw you ride out on the prisoner's horse; and, ods bobs, I thought of sending some so'diers to dog after you; but they was all out in the bushes already. Then I went to the doctor's shop, to get some laudanum for an aching tooth, and said he, 'Vy there's Affidafy has peen pying laudanum for an aching tooth, too!'--Oho! said I; and then, old boy, I was ready for you. And you see the end! while you was lying snorting here like a corn-fed pig, we was knocking the tories on the head at the yard-gate. And then we had the coroner on 'em, and you no wiser; and the magistrates and all the town inquiring into the fuss, and you no wiser; and there, indeed, there's your client, poor fellow, they're trying in court as hard as they can, the evidence all over, the speeches half done, and still, Affidavy, my boy, you no wiser. Ha, ha! I do think you look like an apple-dumpling that's tumbled out of the pot, and staring up out of the ashes!"

"Well, Bob," said Affidavy, with an attempt at a laugh, that ended in a groan, "I knock under to you: you've beat me hollow. But now, if you please, and with many thanks to you for not blabbing, I'll take that wallet, and the guineas; and as for the silver, why I don't care if you keep it."

"No, I reckon not," said Lingo, with a grin. "But, I'm thinking, you'll just take the silver yourself, and be thankful I let you off so easy. What, man, do you suppose I'll run the risk of defending you from a prosecution--a criminal prosecution, d'ye see--by holding my tongue, for nothing? Don't go to be such a fool."

"Well then," said Theophilus, with a groan, "do as you like, and let me out."

"Not so fast, neither," said Lingo; and then added, with a nod of the head, "I reckon there's more of the shiners where these come from?"

"Well," said Affidavy, "what then?"

"Why then," said Lingo, "I don't care if I run a risk with you, and go snacks."

"Will you?" said Affidavy. "Then, ehem, humph!--You know what I mean; and there's a thousand a-piece on that note!"

"The ready, old boy, the ready! hang all your paper promises; I go for the ready."

"Well then, let me out, and I'll state the case to one we know of. But, I fear, the ready's not to be had--We'll take a second note of the prisoner."

"Ods bobs! are you there with your notes still? Now if you come to that, I reckon I can do all that without assistance, and no snacks neither. And so good by to you."

With that the jailer, giving the attorney another nod, flung out of the cell, taking good care, however, to lock the door behind him; leaving Affidavy to suspect, as he did, that Lingo was resolved to manage the case, and reap the harvest, on his own account.

"Oh the villain!" sighed the disconsolate attorney. "But I'll be even with him yet. Let me see--hum--good! the rascal is already implicated, having concealed my--faugh! So he will not dare to accuse me now. Well, I'll see through it by and by. That cursed laudanum! I do think it has turned my brain into a dough-cake--Very well--Was there ever such an ass!--That I should let such a jolterhead get the upper hand of me!--I wonder what's the matter with my ribs!--Nothing to drink!--no, botheration, nor to eat, neither.--Very well, Bob Lingo; I'll remember you."

He then sought to relieve the perplexity of his mind by walking about; but the excessive and unnatural debauch had bereft him of strength, so that he was soon compelled to sit down upon the bed, where he found the stupor, which had not yet entirely deserted his faculties, returning and growing upon him, in spite of all his efforts to resist it. In a word, he became again very drowsy, and fearing lest some additional evil should befall him if caught again napping, he rose up and looked from the window, to divert his mind from its lethargy. He saw, from the ruddy hue of the sunshine on the neighbouring roofs, and the golden tinge of the floating clouds, that the day was already declining; by which he perceived how long he had already slept, and wondered that, after such a siege of slumber, he should so soon feel any inclination to sleep again. But, while he wondered, he found the clouds and house-tops blending their outlines together on his vision, while the hum of the village grew confused in his ear. He stalked about again, then again sat down on the bed; when, fearing lest that should seduce him into slumber, and being incapable of remaining longer upon his feet, he betook himself to a corner, where he sat down on the floor, pursuing his meditations; and there, after much nodding, musing, and scratching of head, he fell, in spite of all efforts to the contrary, fast asleep.

He slept long and soundly; and the shadows of night had been long gathered over the earth, before certain sounds in the narrow apartment, mingling with his dreams, imparted to them the horrors of nightmare, and then suddenly dispelled them. He was awakened by a human groan, hollow and sepulchral, but so loud that he deemed it was breathed just at his ear; and looking up, he beheld a spectacle that caused his hair to bristle with terror. It was, as he perceived, dark night; but a lamp, standing upon a little table near the bed, poured a dim and ghastly light over the cell, sufficient to reveal the few objects it contained. Upon the bed sat a tall man, in his night-gear, with a visage of death-like hue, and eyes staring out of his head, which he rolled now to the right hand and now to the left, as if gazing upon objects invisible to the attorney; although Affidavy was accustomed to declare afterwards, when good cheer made him communicative, that he distinctly saw at the right hand of the sick man, and not fifteen feet from himself, a figure as of a man swathed in a bloody sheet, that stood gazing the other in the face, and gradually melted into the obscurity, as he himself surveyed it more intently. Be that as it may, there was enough of the ghostly and terrific in the appearance and expressions of the sick man, to keep the attorney cowering with fear in his corner, without any addition of horrors from the world of spirits; and accordingly, Affidavy sat looking on and listening, without the power to move, or even to rise.

The sick man continued to roll his eyes, occasionally uttering deep groans, and now and then muttering expressions that showed the horror of his mind, without, at first, clearly disclosing the cause.

"Ay, wave your hand," he heard him say, as if addressing some phantom revealed only to his own senses; "wave your hand, and point to the bloody throat: it was well aimed, boy, well aimed, and it was well done. I care not for _you_: it is the other that moves me; for him I killed with a lie, and there he sits smiling! His face is black and swollen, yet he smiles; his arms are bound behind, yet he smiles; a rope is round his neck, yet he smiles.--Ay, smile, boy, smile! that smile is heavier on my heart than the frown of the soldier!--A smile! men would call that poor revenge; but we, boy, ha, ha! we know better!"

He then fell back upon the bed, and lay for a moment quiet; so that Affidavy had leisure to recall his spirits, and penetrate the mystery, which had at first so deeply appalled him. His first thought was, that he was enclosed with some wounded refugee, captured in the toils to which he himself had unwittingly brought him; but remembering presently that he had seen two bodies stretched in the yard below, and had good reason, from Lingo's expressions, to believe the third man had made his escape, he perceived that this must be some prisoner of an earlier date; and he knew that, the night before, there were but three in Lingo's charge. With the person of the unfortunate Hyland he was already well acquainted, and Dancy Parkins was, it might be said, his old acquaintance. His thoughts reverted immediately to Sterling, whom he had never seen; and he remembered, at the same time, that Lingo had hinted to him the ease with which he might weaken this man's testimony, if that were desirable, by convicting him of insanity. "Oho, the dog, Lingo!" said he to himself; "he has shut me up with a madman then? Now, if he should be dangerous, God bless our two souls!--Ha! there, he's rising again! God bless our two souls!"

"They are gone then?" muttered the wretch, in whose sunken features, hollow voice, and altered spirit, one would with difficulty have recognised the humorous, bold, and reckless adventurer; "they are gone; but it will not be long. Hah!" he added, fixing his eye, with a fearful stare, upon the vacant wall, "you come again, and frowning! Yet I fear not: other men have shed blood, and lived happy. It is not for you, but for the other--him that lies across my feet smiling! Hah, what!" he screamed, rather than said, as his eye, wandering towards the foot of the bed, suddenly fell upon the figure of Affidavy, in his corner, now cowering low with terror, "are there _three_? Devil! you lie!" he exclaimed, leaping out of bed, "there were but two--him that I shot, and him that I killed with false witness. Ha, ha, ha! these are juggling fiends! devils of legerdemain! that make a man worse than he is! You look me in the face--Well! I look back:--do you think to fright me? Look at me then, and say, if you dare, that _I_ hurt you!"

And with these words, he advanced towards Affidavy, who now perceived that his right arm was swathed in bandages across his breast, as if maimed by some injury. But his left hand he brandished with menacing gesticulation, and his countenance was covered with a ghastly frown; so that Affidavy feared nothing less than that he should be immediately torn to pieces. From this apprehension, which deprived him of the power of raising a finger in self-defence, he was relieved by the sudden appearance of the jailer, who, entering the cell with an oath, seized upon the madman, and shook him with violence, until he groaned with pain, suffering himself to be pushed back upon the bed.

"I'll have the law of you, Bob Lingo!" said the attorney, starting up from an ecstasy of fear to lanch into a tumult of rage; "I'll have the law of you, you villain! and what's more, I'll chouse you out of your fees and bribes,--your cheating and tampering with the prisoner, Hyland Gilbert: he's an innocent man, you rascal, and you know it! and here's this man Sterling has avowed the murder himself."

"Ods bobs!" said Lingo, "what do you mean?"

"I mean what I say," cried Affidavy, whom rage, the desire of requiting upon Lingo some of the disappointments he had himself endured, and a sudden prospect that seemed to open on him of retrieving his lost fortune, had restored to the possession of his faculties. "I mean, that my client, Hyland Gilbert, whom you cheated out of my services, is an innocent man; and that there lies the true criminal. He has confessed the whole matter; murder and perjury--murder and perjury, you villain! do you hear that? and I'll make him depose the particulars, you cheating, covetous, conniving rapscallion! and so chouse you out of all your expected fees, you rascal! botheration, I will!--Harkee, you Sterling!" he said, now advancing boldly towards the object of his late fears, "you've blabbed all, and so you may as well confess at once. I overheard all you said; and my testimony will settle the matter; so, for the good of your soul, confess. You're a dying man; the devil's as good as got you already--you'll not last a day longer; so confess, confess, and don't damn yourself for ever, by hanging an innocent man. What! do you pretend to deny it?" he continued, adopting a course of persuasion founded on what he had witnessed of the prisoner's hallucinations--"do you see that young man there, with the bloody throat, frowning? Look--I know him well--it is young Harry Falconer!"

"Ay," said Sterling, rolling his eyes to the wall; "but where is the other?"

"Why, they are hanging him; and all because you swore falsely against him."

"Is he alive yet?" muttered Sterling; "I thought he was dead. Send me a priest, and I'll confess."

"A priest! A magistrate, you mean."

"It is all one--I am a dying man; there is something wrong here,--_here_," he murmured, striking his forehead. "I will do reparation--ask me what you will; but drive Henry Falconer out of the room; ay, and take that young Hawk off my feet--he chills them to the marrow."

"It was _your_ pistol killed Henry Falconer?" cried the lawyer.

"Ay; I shot him over Gilbert's shoulder. I fired at both; either would have served me. But who was the _third_ one? Old Falconer did not die!"

"A justice of the peace, Lingo! do you hear?" said Affidavy, grinning with triumph. "I reckon I'll sort you, you covetous, cheating dog!"

"Come, squire, don't be mad," whispered the jailer, with two or three significant winks: "We'll go snacks yet."

"What, you rascal, do you think to bribe me to keep silence? Oho! you cormorant, I've got the play now in my own hands; and we _won't_ go snacks: I work on my own foundation. You've heard the man's words here; deny them if you can. Send for a squire, or refuse at your peril: I'll bawl out the window, and raise the town."

"There's no need of being contractious," said Lingo, coolly. "I sent Hanschen for old Squire Leger an hour ago; for I reckon I was a leetle before you! The man asked for him of his own accord, while you was a snoozing in the corner; for it's a gone case with him, and he knows it."

The lawyer was petrified at this announcement; it was a new and mortal disappointment; for he designed to make profitable use to himself of his discovery; and to complete his confusion, the door was opened at that moment, and Hanschen entered, ushering in the worthy Schlachtenschlager, whom he had lighted upon by accident, after searching in vain for the other magistrate, after whom he had been sent an hour before. The attorney groaned; with one hand he grasped the Squire's extended palm, and the other he shook in the face of Lingo, who grinned, and winked, and nodded at him, with the most provoking good-humour. But Affidavy was not a man to be disheartened even in such an extremity; he no longer dreaded an exposure of his extra-professional services on the prisoner's behalf; and he perceived that there was still a field, although a narrow one, on which to display his zeal. Trusting therefore to his skill to make his client sensible of the full merit of his labour, he addressed himself to the task of shriving the discovered felon, with a tact and sagacity that were soon perceived to be as useful as they were really indispensable.

It was found that Sterling was in a very critical state, his bodily powers being completely wrecked, and his mind so much unhinged that he could scarce answer two consecutive questions without wandering. The causes that had brought him to this condition it was not easy to imagine, unless by supposing he had received some fatal internal injury during his struggle with Oran Gilbert; or by referring all at once to the horror of mind with which, it seemed, he had been affected from the moment he felt himself a homicide. A homicide he was, as was soon made apparent; for being led on and assisted by the questions of Affidavy, he confessed, without any reluctance or attempt at equivocation, that he had sworn falsely in regard to the exchange of pistols betwixt himself and Hyland, such exchange never having taken place; and that he, and no other, had shot the pistol that killed young Falconer. The reasons for this act were but imperfectly developed; and the strongest seemed to be a bitter hatred he had conceived against the deceased, in consequence of an indignity offered him long since in the theatre, from which he had been hissed, chiefly through Falconer's instrumentality. Such a cause for vengeance may be understood by those who remember the rivers of blood poured out at Lyons, ten years after, to satiate the rankling fury of a Collot d'Herbois. It will be remembered in what manner he volunteered, while in the swamp with Oran Gilbert, to take the life of this unlucky youth; as well as the attempt he made upon it the following night, in the park, when he discovered him struggling with Hyland. It appeared, besides, that after having rendered himself into the hands of the pursuers, and confessed his true name and character, the reckless lieutenant pursued him with divers jests and jeers, which were the more intolerable that his quarrel with the Gilberts had left his mind in a state of furious passion; and an additional incentive was offered by the scuffle between the two rivals, in which any execution of vengeance would be so readily imputed to accident, if traced to him at all. He succeeded beyond his expectations; the object of his hatred lay a corpse before him--but from that moment Sterling was another and a changed man. His mind was filled with horror--not remorse, for to the last he testified nothing like penitence--but with a nameless and oppressive dread, which was increased tenfold by the reflection that this act had, or would in the end, deprive a second fellow being of life, that second being the unfortunate youth whom an extraordinary accident had imbued with a belief that he was himself the murderer. Hence the singular turn of his testimony, and his attempt to throw a doubt upon the prisoner's guilt; until the sudden discovery of the damaged pistol struck him with a fear, until then unfelt, for his own safety. He dreaded lest his own weapons, which had been taken from him immediately after the catastrophe, and from which, in the agitation of his spirits, he had forgotten to remove the evidences of guilt, should be examined, and thus suspicion diverted upon himself. To prevent this, he invented the falsehood concerning the exchange, and thus screened himself from suspicion, at the expense of a second act of murder. But from that moment his horror became insupportable; and after struggling with it in vain, and becoming persuaded that his own fate was drawing nigh, he summoned Lingo, made a deliberate confession of his villany, and desired that his deposition might be taken, before his madness, of whose approaches he seemed conscious, should render reparation impossible.

It was now taken, and with difficulty, but it was conclusive; and so intent became all present upon the strange and impressive story, and, after it was concluded, so eager were all to confirm it by inducing repetitions of the most important circumstances, that even the sudden sound of fire-arms on the square, followed by the outcries in Hyland's cell, were unheard and unnoticed, until Hanschen suddenly rushed among them, with the intelligence, as he expressed it, 'that there fas murdter going on in the Hawk's room.'

All started up, leaving Sterling to rave, perhaps to die, alone, and made their way to the prisoner's apartment, where Colonel Falconer was found weltering in blood in the arms of Elsie and his son, a rifle-bullet having penetrated his side, and lodged in the body; and it was soon gathered, from the remorseful expressions of Hyland, that it had been shot by a refugee--the last act of friendship that could be rendered to a helpless and hopeless comrade.

"It was shot by Oran Gilbert," said Elsie Bell, "for there is none left but him! Yes, Richard Falconer, I said it would come sooner or later! It is well for you, too,--you will not see the death of your son's murderer!"

"He is innocent!" said Affidavy, snatching at his client's hand. "Botheration, my boy, we've found the true murderer! He has confessed, and you are an innocent man. The pistol was shot by Sterling! We'll clear you, or secure a free pardon."

"By Sterling!" murmured Colonel Falconer. "Then, oh heaven! then is my son guiltless of his brother's blood!"

"I am, father, I am!" said Hyland; "but, wretch that I am, my madness and folly have killed my father!"

"I die content.--I will do you justice, my son--I am not so faint as before--They shall carry me to--to--I forget--it is no matter--Well, well"--

With these words he fell into a swoon, in which he was at first esteemed dead; but a surgeon having been sent for, and now entering the cell, he declared, upon a hasty inspection of the wound, that it was by no means mortal, and that there was every reason to prognosticate a speedy recovery. The sufferer was then carried to the inn, and put to bed; but with no such assurances of life as had been pronounced in the prison. A consultation was called, the result of which was a more rational declaration, that his days were already numbered.