"If she dies," Graham said to his wife, in answer to Clara's anxious questioning, on the morning after Alan Walcott's arrest, "it will be a case of murder or manslaughter. If she gets over it he will be charged with an attempt to murder, or to do grievous bodily harm, and as there would be her evidence to be considered in that case the jury would be sure to take the worst view of it. That might mean five or ten years, perhaps more. The best thing that could happen for him would be her death, then they might incline to believe his statement, and a clever counsel might get him off with a few months' imprisonment."
"Poor man," said Clara, "how very shocking it is!" She was thinking not of Alan alone, but of Alan's friends. "Is there no hope of his being acquitted altogether?"
"How could there be? The evidence is only too clear. The landlady heard them quarrelling and struggling together, then there was a loud scream, and just as she entered the room the poor wretch was falling to the ground. Walcott had his hand on the dagger, which was still in his wife's breast. Then the other lodger came in, and he declares that he heard Walcott say he was a murderer. It seems as plain as it could possibly be."
"But think of the two, as we know them to have been, and the relations which have existed between them for years past. Surely that must tell in his favor?"
"We are not the jury, remember. And, as for that, it would only go to show a motive for the crime, and make a conviction all the more certain. No doubt it might induce them to call it manslaughter instead of murder, and the judge might pass a lighter sentence."
"I do hope she will not die. It would be terrible to have her death on his conscience."
"Well, of course, death is an ugly word, and no one has a right to wish that another might die. At the same time, I should say it would be a happy release for such a creature, who can have nothing but misery before her. But it will make little difference to him. He is entirely ruined, so far as his reputation is concerned. He could never hold his ground in England again, though he might have a second chance at the other side of the world. What Britain can't forget, Australia forgives. Heaven created the Antipodes to restore the moral balance of Europe."
"That is a poor satisfaction," said Clara, "to a man who does not want to live out of his own country."
"Unfortunately, my dear, we cannot always choose our lot, especially when we have had the misfortune to kill or maim somebody in a fit of passion."
"I cannot believe that it is even so bad as that. It must have been an accident."