The Ordeal of Elizabeth Part 35

Mr. Fenton was examining one of the medical experts for the prosecution, a man who had had large experience in poisoning cases.

The counsel for the defence was putting him through series of questions, the drift of which was not altogether plain. What sort of a crime did he consider poisoning? An atrocious one, was it not?--generally committed by hardened criminals? Had the witness ever been in contact with a case of poisoning where the whole scheme had been concocted and carried out by a girl of twenty, far removed by education, friends and antecedents from any connection with crime? No, the witness could not, in his own experience, recall any such case, but he had no doubt that it had been known, though he agreed in response to Mr. Fenton's next question, that it would be slightly abnormal. And here the District Attorney interposed with one of those objections which each lawyer seemed to make mechanically, whenever a question proved inconvenient to his side; but the Judge decided in favor of Mr. Fenton, and he went on imperturbably, s.h.i.+fting his ground a little.

"Poisoning is a crime--don't you think so?--that calls for a great deal of thought and calculation?"

"Yes," the witness thought it would undoubtedly.

"The person who planned it would have plenty of time to consider the consequences?"

The witness responded: "I should think so."

"He or she--whoever it was that planned it--would be probably of a cold-blooded and calculating disposition?"

"Probably."

"And not likely, do you think so?--to suffer from hysterical remorse as soon as the act was accomplished?"

Here the opposing counsel again intervened, and was again silenced by the Judge. Mr. Fenton repeated his question.

"I ask you," he said, addressing the witness with a certain solemnity, "as a man who has had experience with criminals and human nature, whether you think it likely that a woman, strong-minded and cold-blooded enough to commit this diabolical crime, on hearing of its accomplishment--a thing she has been expecting for days--would be seized with a fit of hysterical remorse, would utter wild, incriminating words, in the presence of--no matter whom, any one who chanced to be present, and would rush up at once to look at the body of the man whom she had murdered?"

The witness hesitated. "It--it doesn't seem likely," he admitted at last.

"It would be much more, don't you think," said Mr. Fenton quietly, "like the conduct of an innocent woman, who was suffering from a nervous shock, and had no thought of controlling her actions because she had no idea of being suspected?"

The witness, after a long pause: "Yes, it--would certainly seem so."

"It certainly does," said Mr. Fenton. "Thank you, doctor. I have no more questions to ask." And he sat down with the air of one who has scored a point.

Thereupon the prosecution, as if to prove the strength of the evidence which he had antic.i.p.ated, placed upon the stand Bridget O'Flaherty, formerly maid-servant to the Misses Van Vorst, who swore upon her solemn oath that the prisoner had in her hearing declared herself guilty of the murder of Paul Halleck. Yes, those were her very words, the maid declared--"that she had killed him," and she had added that "it had come at last--just as she despaired of it" or something of the kind, referring no doubt to the fact that Halleck had kept the poison some time before taking it. The woman's testimony was full and circ.u.mstantial, and she gave the impression of telling the truth.

Mr. Fenton, on cross-examination, proved that she had been dismissed without a character from the services of the Misses Van Vorst, also that she had been paid for her evidence by a yellow journal. Its effect was distinctly undermined when he permitted her to leave the stand. And with that the prosecution called upon Miss Cornelia to corroborate the maid's statement.

Miss Cornelia was deathly white; her head shook, her thin, silvery curls fluttered, as if they had caught the infection of her own nervousness. In one hand she grasped her smelling-salts desperately, with the other she revolved in an agitated way a small black fan. A murmur of sympathy ran through the court-room as she took her place.

Even the District Attorney seemed sorry for her and put his opening questions with unwonted gentleness. His tone was still bland when he came to the important point--had she noticed anything peculiar in her niece's manner on the morning after the murder?

Miss Cornelia's answer was low, but it was quite audible. "She was--shocked, naturally."

"Naturally. But did she seem surprised?"

Miss Cornelia's answer was this time still lower, and given with more hesitation. "I--I think so."

"You mean you are not sure?"

"I--I was so upset myself"--began Miss Cornelia.

"That you did not notice?"

"No, I--I did not notice," said Miss Cornelia, relieved.

"You thought that her manner was unremarkable, and simply what you might have expected under the circ.u.mstances?"

"Yes, I--I thought so," said Miss Cornelia. She added to herself the mental reservation that she had no idea what sort of manner under the circ.u.mstances, she should have expected.

The District Attorney a.s.sumed a more impressive manner. "Miss Van Vorst," he said, "do you believe in the sacredness of an oath?"

"Yes, I--I certainly."

"You would not speak anything but the truth?"

"No," said Miss Cornelia, this time more firmly.

"Then I ask you," said the District Attorney, suddenly drawing himself up to his full height, and fixing his eyes upon her, "I ask you, on your sacred oath, did your niece, or did she not, on the morning after the murder of Paul Halleck, say to you that she had killed him, or words to that effect?"

There was a long silence. Miss Cornelia looked desperately about her; at the Judge, whose face showed more than ever a touch of human sympathy; at Mr. Fenton, white with anxiety, trying to telegraph a hundred things which she could not understand; at the jury, bending eagerly forward; then back at those most interested,--her sister in an agony of suspense, Mrs. Van Antwerp flushed and trembling in her vain desire to intervene. Lastly, Miss Cornelia's haggard eyes sought Elizabeth herself; the girl was sitting white and rigid, motionless as a statue, her hands clenched, her eyes resolutely bent upon the floor.

If it was a terrible moment for her; how much worse was it for the aunt who had brought her up, who was now called upon by a refinement of cruelty to destroy what seemed to be her only chance. Oh, for the courage--it seemed to her almost n.o.ble!--to utter one good lie! But there were the lynx-like eyes of the District Attorney fixed upon her, there was the oath she had taken, weighing upon her conscientious soul.... Suddenly she felt, with a sense of despair, that her silence had already spoken louder than speech. And, even as the thought pa.s.sed through her mind, her answer framed itself on her lips and seemed to be uttered without her own volition; one word, barely audible, but caught at once and registered by twenty reporters, while a suppressed sigh went the round of the court-room.

"Yes."

"Thank you," said the District Attorney. "That is all I wished to know."

_Chapter x.x.xVI_

There was still cross-examination.

Mr. Fenton, too, began with unimportant questions. He gave Miss Cornelia, who looked ready to faint, time to recover herself a little.

The questions he asked were easy to answer. Had her niece, in the course of her education, given them much trouble, had she ever deceived them, kept anything from them before this fatal secret? Ah, no, no! Miss Cornelia gave her answers tremulously, yet with a fervent relief, an eager desire to make herself heard throughout the court-room.

"Then with your knowledge of your niece's character," Mr. Fenton asked, speaking almost carelessly, "you didn't think of her as the sort of person likely to commit a crime?"

Miss Cornelia drew herself up with sudden dignity and her voice was plainly audible, and without a tremor. "Most certainly not," she said.

"Then how," inquired Mr. Fenton calmly, "did you account for her extraordinary a.s.sertion that she had committed this murder?"

Miss Cornelia hardly hesitated. "I thought she was out of her mind,"

she said. "I couldn't account for it in any other way."

"It never occurred to you for a moment that it was true?"

"Not for a moment." The words came out indignantly.

"You naturally did not suppose that were she really guilty, she would proclaim it quite so readily as that?"

Miss Cornelia stared. "I never," she said, simply, "thought of such a thing as her being guilty."

"But you asked her, did you not, for some explanation of her words?"