“You see that a commission is coming to Dover to inquire into the matter,” observed Miss Demster, pointing to the end of the paragraph. “Deborah, Deborah, ought we not even now to make clean breasts, and confess all that we know?”
“That was just what I was thinking,” replied poor Deborah. “We have had no peace since we hid that dreadful matter, and now our speaking out will not cause any one to be hanged.”
“That Mr. Coldstream—whatever else he may be—is a brave and conscientious man,” observed Betsy. “I think—though it would be an effort, a horrible effort—that we ought to give evidence now.”
And the poor ladies did appear in court, their heads bowed down with shame, and veils over their faces. They received meekly and with much self-abasement the reproof of the eminent lawyer appointed to examine into the case.
“Ladies, you may hitherto have suppressed facts, and tried to defeat justice, from motives of humanity,” said he; “but know that he who conceals another’s crime becomes an accessory after the deed; he who shields a murderer from justice may be regarded as being, in some measure, a partaker in his guilt.”
It was a consolation to the poor Misses Demster that Oscar Coldstream was not to be hanged after all. Hiscrime had been unpremeditated and voluntarily confessed; he was therefore recommended to mercy. Instructions were forwarded to the Indian Government that the murderer of Walter Manly should be transported to the nearest penal settlement, to remain there for the term of his natural life.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE SENTENCE.
Banishment for life to the Andaman Islands—to the place which the natives of India speak of as “beyond the black waters,” a kind of Stygian pit into which the foul drains of guilt, the slimy streams of vice throughout Hindostan, empty themselves; where there is the society of murderers and thieves; a place of mysterious misery, like the fabled infernal regions;—to Oscar Coldstream this was a sentence more terrible even than that of public execution. Such banishment was a kind of living death which, to one not yet thirty years of age, might endure for forty years or more! What frightful consequences had been entailed on Oscar by half a minute’s yielding to passion! When he received the final sentence, Coldstream realized to the full extent what earthly misery he had brought on himself.
By the same ship which carried the decision regarding Oscar’s fate, came also a letter from his sister-in-law, Jane Thorn, addressed to himself. Jane deplored Oscar’s miserable condition; but earnestly, solemnly imploredhim not to let his innocent wife share in his exile. The home which was about to be Jane’s should always, she wrote, be shared by her dearly-loved sister. Let Io return to England and try to forget the past.