Complete works of hall c.., p.588
Complete Works of Hall Caine, page 588
“Whatever have you done to make me so foolish? Was it only half of you (the physical half) that went away, leaving the spirit half with me? I want the other half, though, the substantial half, so tell your Home Secretary (I like him) to hurry up and send you home.
“You do wrong not to see the beautiful women, dear. The woman who is afraid of her husband looking at other women is building her house on the sand. I should like to say to myself, ‘He has seen the loveliest women in the world, yet he comes back to me.’
“All the same I love you for looking at the darker side of woman’s life. It is more apparent in the greater communities, but it is here, too, and that is why I am looking eagerly forward to your appointment as Deemster, which will make you a creator of the law as well as an administrator of it. You must have no misgivings, though. Why should you? A man who has a stainless scutcheon is just what women want for their champion. And if I may help you how happy I shall be!
“You ask what is happening in the island. Well, apart from politics (of which I know nothing except that they seem to be always the same story) the only thing of consequence is the case of a young woman charged with the murder of her illegitimate child.
“She is a country girl who, having run away from home some months ago, returned recently very ill and was put to bed, and remained there until arrested. But in the meantime the body of a new-born infant was found under a large stone half a mile away, and it is said to have been hers.
“She denies all knowledge of the child, but the medical testimony seems to be sadly against her, and there is some direct evidence also, though it is not above the suspicion of being tainted by malice.
“She has been up before the High Bailiff and committed to the next sitting of the General Gaol Delivery, so you are likely to hear more of the case. Poor thing, whatever her sin, she has already had a fearful punishment, for she is very ill, having apparently exposed herself to dreadful sufferings in the hope of preventing her baby from being born alive.
“She is now in the prison hospital, and this morning I drove over to see her. A good-looking girl, almost beautiful (with the sort of beauty which attracts the less worthy side of a certain type of man), but her cheeks are now terribly thin and pale, and her big black eyes (her finest feature) have that wild look which one sees in a captured animal that gazes and gazes.
“I liked the girl, but she did not seem to like me. In fact she shrank from me (the only girl who ever did so) and when I tried to be nice to her, and asked her to trust me, and to tell me who was responsible for her condition, so that I might find him and fetch him to her, she broke into a flood of fierce denial.
“Either the girl is a great story-teller or she is a great heroine, and I am half inclined to think she may be both. My guess would be that she is trying to shield the guilty man. The clothes she had worn were better than a farm girl could afford to buy, and that suggests that her fellow-sinner belongs to a class above her.
“Isn’t it shocking that the law provides no punishment for the man who ruins a girl’s life ruining her soul at the same time, for that is what it often comes to. But, please God, you will be on the bench, so she is sure to have justice.
“Our Society has decided to undertake her defence, but we are at a loss whom to employ. We cannot afford a high fee either ten or fifteen guineas at the outside. Can you suggest anybody?
“I intend to be present at the trial, and to stand by the girl’s side, for she will have nobody else, poor creature. But oh, how I wish I might plead for her! Although her fellow-sinner will not stand for judgment, how I should like to tear the mask from his face and cry in open court, ‘Thou art the man!’
“Good-night, dear! It’s 10 p m., and such, delicious dreams are waiting for me upstairs. Bring your motor-car back, and when the time conies (I shall not keep you long) you may carry me off to wherever you please.
“Listen, I am going to say something. There is not much in the heart of a woman that you don’t know already, but I am about to let you into a secret. The woman who does not want her husband (if only he loves her) to control her, command her, and do anything and everything he likes with her, isn’t really a woman at all she’s only a mistake for a man!
“Victor, after that burst of nonsense I cannot conclude without telling you again how much I love you. I love you for yourself, just yourself alone, quite apart from anything you may do or have done, whether good or bad, right or wrong, and I shall go on loving you whatever may happen to you in the future, whether you become Deemster or not, go up or go down.
“But when I think of the life that is so surely before you, and that I shall walk through it by your side, perfectly united with you, sharing the same hopes and aims and desires, enjoying the same sunshine and weathering the same storms, I have a vision of happiness that makes me cry for joy.
“Come back to me soon, dearest. The spring is here in all her youthful beauty; the daffodils are nodding; the gorse on the hedges is a blaze of gold; the sky is blue; the sea is lying asleep under a divine shimmer of sunshine, and your island your island that is going to be so proud of you is waiting to clasp you to her heart.
“And so am I, my Victor!
“FENELLA.”
III
“MY OWN DEAR FENELLA, I am so troubled about the young woman who is to be charged with the murder of her child that (time being short) I must write at once on the subject. It looks like a case of the temporary mania which so often prompts women to take life (their own or their children’s) in the hope of avoiding shame.
“God, when I think of it, that in all ages of the world tens of thousands of women have gone through that fiery furnace and that never one man since the days of Adam has come within sight of it, I want to go down on my knees to the meanest and lowest of them as the martyrs of humanity.
“Infanticide is of course a serious crime in any country, and especially serious in the Isle of Man now, when the Governor has made up his mind to show no mercy to persons guilty of fatal violence. But the killing of a new-born child is usually treated as felonious homicide. Therefore, if you carry out your intention of standing by the girl’s side, you may safely tell her (in order to save her from possible shock) that even a verdict of guilty will not mean death.
“How I wish you could plead for the poor thing! But instruct counsel for the defence and you will really be pleading, and I, for one, if I am present, will hear your quivering voice in every word he says.
“As for the choice of an Advocate why not Alick Gell? He has not had too many chances, poor chap, and it will hearten him (he was rather down when I saw him last) to be entrusted with a serious case like this.
“Tell him to look up Galabin and Murrell on Forensic Medicine he’ll find both in the Law Library. The first step is to make sure that the poor creature (I assume she is not too well educated) has not mistaken infanticide for concealment; and the next, to insist on proof of ‘a live birth,’ which it is practically impossible to establish (except on the girl’s confession) in a case of solitary delivery.
“Yes, you are almost certainly right in thinking she is trying to shield the guilty man, and, criminal though she is, she may be (as you say) an absolute heroine. In that event I trust it may not fall to my lot to try her. God save me from sitting in judgment on a woman who stands silent in her shame to shield the honour of the man she loves!
“But as for hunting down the guilty man, that (don’t you think so?) is perhaps another matter. If it has to be done at all it is only a woman a pure and stainless woman who has a right to do it. No man who knows himself, and how near every mother’s son of us has been to the verge of the pit, will be the first to throw a stone. You remember ‘But for the grace of God there goes John Wesley.’ Oh, my darling, how can I ever be grateful enough for what you have done for me....
“Helloa! The page boy has just been up with a letter from the Home Secretary. ‘I have the pleasure to inform you that the King has been pleased to approve of your appointment to the position of the Deemster of the Isle of Man....’
“How glorious! Here I have been all day saying to myself, ‘Who, in God’s name, are you that you should be Judge over anybody?’ and now I’m glad damned glad, there is no other word for it.
“I shall telegraph the news to you in a few minutes, but I feel as if I want to take the first boat home and become my own messenger. That is impossible, for I have to call on the Home Secretary to-morrow about my Warrant. And then I have to see to the transport of my car, and the purchase of my Judge’s wig and gown. But wait, only wait! Three days more I shall have you in my arms.
“My respectful greetings to the Governor. Say I know how much I owe to him for this unprecedented appointment. Say, too, I shall hold myself in readiness for the ceremony of the swearing-in, whenever he desires it to take place; also for the next Court of General Gaol Delivery if Deemster Taubman is still down with his rheumatism.
“And now bless you again, dearest, for all your beautiful faith in me. God helping me, I’ll do my best to deserve it. But you must be my guardian watcher, my sentinel t my star.
“What a dear old world it is, darling! It seems as if there ought to be no suffering of any kind in it now – now that the sky is so bright for you and me.
“VICTOR.”
“P.S. Important. Don’t forget to employ Gell in that case of the girl who killed her baby. Alick’s her man. Mind you, though he must compel her to tell him everything.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ALICK GELL
FOR ten days Alick Gell had been searching for Bessie Collister. When he first read her letter on reaching Derby Haven (he read it a hundred times afterwards) he remembered something his father had said in taunting him “You’ll not be the first by a long way!” Then he recalled the case of the Peel fisherman and a black thought came hurtling down on him. At the next moment he hated himself for it.
“What devil out of hell made me think of that?” he asked himself.
But why had Bessie run away from him? The only explanation he could find was the one Stowell had given on the steamboat women had illnesses which men knew nothing about, and in the throes of their mania they sometimes hid themselves, like sick animals, from their friends most of all from those they loved. Were not the newspapers full of such cases?
“That’s it! That’s it! My poor girl!”
Having arrived at this explanation of Bessie’s flight, he had no compunction about going in search of her. Her malady might be only temporary, but, while it lasted, Heaven alone knew what dangers she might expose herself to.
At first it occurred to him to call in the assistance of the police. But no, that would lead to publicity, and publicity to misunderstanding. Bessie would get better; he must keep her name clear of scandal. His voice shook and his lip trembled as he told the Misses Brown to say nothing to anybody. His warning was unnecessary. The terrified old maids, who had at length begun to scent the truth, had decided to keep their own counsel.
Within half an hour Alick was on the road. He had no doubt of overtaking Bessie she was only half an hour gone. But which way would she go? It was easier to say which way she would not go. She- would not go to the north of the island where she would be known to nearly everybody. Above all, she would not go home the home of Dan Baldromma.
All that day he wandered through Castletown every street and alley. At nightfall he was back at Derby Haven. Had Bessie returned? No! Had anything been heard of her? Nothing!
Next day he set out on a wider journey all the towns and villages of the south, Port St. Mary, Port Erin, Fleswick, Ballasalla, Colby, Ballabeg and Cregneash. He walked from daylight to dark, and asked no questions, but at every open door he paused and listened. When he saw a farm-house that stood back from the high road he made excuse to go up to it a drink of milk or water.
Day followed day without result. His heart was sinking. More than once he met somebody whom he knew and had to make excuse for his rambling. Wonderful what a walking tour did to blow the cobwebs from a fellow’s brain after he had been shut up too long in an office! His friends looked after him with a strange expression. He had been something of a dandy, but his hair was uncombed and his linen was becoming soiled and even dirty.
At length he became a prey to illusions. He always slept in the last house he came to, and one night, in a fisherman’s cottage near Fleswick, he was awakened by the wind blowing over the thatch. He thought it sounded like the voice of Bessie, and that she was wandering over the highway in the darkness, alone and distraught.
Next day he began to inquire if anything had been seen of such a person. He was’ told of a young woman who, found walking barefoot on the lonely road to Dreamlang, had been taken to the asylum, and he hurried there to inquire. No, it was not Bessie. Some poor young wife who (only six months married and beginning to be happy in the prospect of a child) had lost her husband in an accident at the mines at Foxdale.
The dread of suicide took hold of him. One day a fish-cadger on the road told him that a young woman’s body had been washed ashore at Peel. Again it was nothing nothing to him. The wife of the captain of a Norwegian schooner which had been wrecked off Contrary with her eyes open and her baby locked in her rigid arms.
Alick’s heart was failing him. Do what he would to keep down evil thoughts they were getting the better of him. Sometimes he rested on the seat that usually stands outside the whitewashed porch of a Manx cottage, and although he thought he said so little, he found that the women (especially such of them as were mothers of grown-up girls) seemed to divine the object of his journey.
“Aw, yes, that’s the way with them, the boghs, especially when there’s a man bothering them. Was there any man, now …”
But Alick was up and gone before they could finish their question.
Thus ten days passed. Absorbed in his search, perplexed and tortured, he had seen no newspaper and heard nothing of what was happening in the island. Suddenly it occurred to him that Bessie could not have left him so long without news of her. She could not be so cruel; she must have written, and her letter must be lying at his office.
People who knew him, and saw him return to Douglas, could scarcely recognise him in the pale, unwashed, unshaven man who climbed the steps from the station, looking like a drunkard who had been sleeping out in the fields.
His chambers, when he turned the key (he had no clerk now), were stuffy and cheerless. The ashes of his last fire were on the hearth, and his desk was covered with dust. Behind the door (he had no letter-box) a number of circulars and bills lay on the ground, but, running his trembling fingers through them, he found no letter from Bessie –
There was a large and bulky envelope, though, with the seal of Government House, and marked “Immediate.” What could it be? On the top of a thick body of folio paper he found a letter. It was from Fenella Stanley.
“DEAR MR. GELL, At the suggestion of Mr. Stowell, who is still in London, I am writing on behalf of the Women’s Protection League, to ask you if you can undertake the defence of the young woman in the north of the island who is to be charged with the murder of her new-born child.”
Alick paused a moment to draw breath.
“You will see by the report of the High Bailiff’s inquiry and the copy of the Depositions which I enclose that the girl denies everything, and that her mother supports her, but the evidence is only too sadly against her particularly that of the doctors and of two neighbours who live higher up the glen.”
Alick felt his heart stop and his whole body grow cold.
“Her step-father …”
The letter almost dropped from his fingers.
“Her step-father has not been asked by the prosecution to depose, and it is doubtful if the defence ought to call him.”
He was becoming dizzy. The lines of the letter were running into each other.
“Innocent or guilty, the girl has suffered terribly. She has been several days in hospital at Ramsey, but she was to be removed to Castle Rushen this morning. Her case is to come on next week at the Court of General Gaol Delivery, so perhaps you will send me a telegram immediately saying if you can take up the defence.
“As you see the poor creature is herself an illegitimate child the name by which she is commonly known being Bessie Collister.”
Alick shrieked. He had seen the blow coming, but when it came it fell on him like a thunderbolt.
It was all a lie a damned lie! Nobody would make him believe it. Bessie arrested for the murder of her child! She had never had a child.
He leapt to his feet and tramped the room on stiffened limbs and with a heart throbbing with anger. Then, half afraid, but doing his best to compose himself, he took the report and the Depositions out of the big envelope, and, sitting before the dead hearth with his shaking feet on the fender, and holding the folio pages in his dead-cold hands, he read the evidence.
As he did so he shrieked again, but this time with laughter. What a tissue of manifest lies! The Skillicornes and their quarrel with Dan Baldromma what a malicious conspiracy! Lord, what blind fools the police could be! And the Attorney, had he come to his second childhood?
Again and again Alick thumped the desk with his fist and filled the air of the room with the dust that rose in the sunshine which was now pouring through the windows.
There was a photograph of Bessie on the mantelpiece a copy of the same that she had sent to Stowell. He snatched it up and kissed it. Never had Bessie been so dear to him as now when she was in prison under a false accusation. And the best of it was that he was to get her off. He must see her at once, though.
“My poor girl! In Castle Rushen!”
The first thing to do was to wash and change (he cut himself badly in shaving), but in less than half-an-hour he was at the Post-office telegraphing to Fenella.
“Gladly.”
