“I am not likely to prejudge the case, and should, indeed, be sorry by any observation of mine to prejudice Doctor Bourne in the eyes of the world or his associates,” observed the magistrate. “Still you must admit—indeed, everyone must admit, I think, who has heard the evidence—that the case cannot be dismissed without a searching inquiry. I hope and trust that the prisoner may be in a position, on the next inquiry, to rebut the grave testimony that has been given against him here to-day. I, however, deem it advisable, for many reasons, not to enter into any discussion upon the merits of the case in this early stage of the proceedings. I will accept good and substantial bail for Doctor Bourne’s reappearance at the next examination.”
“Thank you, sir. With the usual notice?”
“Yes, with the usual notice. There will be no difficulty in the matter, I suppose?”
“None whatever. Doctor Bourne can produce bail to any amount.”
In the course of the day bail was offered and accepted, and the doctor was liberated. He returned home, miserably depressed—dejected and sick of heart.
He had not counted on the array of evidence which had been presented on the first examination. His legal advisers endeavoured to comfort him with the assurance that as yet there was not enough to send the case for trial. Much depended upon the girl Tilda.
She might break down. Anyway she would be subjected to an exhaustive and searching cross-examination. Then came the question of an alibi; when everything else failed an alibi was the invariable recourse of an accused person. Was it possible to get up one? Such things had been done, and in some cases they had been successful. The doctor clung to this as the drowning wretch clings to a straw, but he could not, at present, see his way clear as to working it successfully.
He returned home, and at once made for his surgery, where he remained for hours still and thoughtful. The clouds which had been gathering over his head seemed to be darkening and thickening.
What was he to do? Could he fly and escape the avenging arm of the law? It had been made painfully manifest to him at the examination before the magistrate that his enemies or accusers were on the alert; they did not intend to let him escape.
Certainly not if they could help it. Mr. Shearman had acted in a business-like way throughout the inquiry; he had hunted up evidence in the States with the greatest assiduity, and had succeeded in obtaining information connected with a number of smaller and less important circumstances connected with the death of the ill-fated woman.