“ ‘I confess,’ says she, ‘to a romantic attachment to this same picturesque magsman, Mr. Hussey. He came my way—never mind how—and I fell in love with him. He made an assignation to visit me in my guardian’s house, and I saw that a window was left open for him to enter by. My guardian had latterly been in a very odd, depressed state. I think he was troubled about business matters. On the night of the assignation, by the irony of fate, his madness came to a head. He was of such methodical habits by nature, and so unerringly punctual in his hour for going to bed, that I had not hesitated to appoint my beau to meet me in his study, which was both remotest from his bedroom, and very accessible from without. But, to my confusion and terror, I heard him on this night, instead of retiring as usual, start pacing to and fro in the parlour underneath. I listened, helpless and aghast, expecting every moment to hear him enter his study and discover my lover, who must surely by now be awaiting me there. And at length I did hear him actually cross the passage to it with hurried steps. Half demented, dreading anything and everything, I rushed down the stairs, and reached his room door just in time to see him put a pistol to his head and fire. With the flash and report, I fell as if dead, and remember nothing more till the voice of my beloved seemed to call upon me to rise from the tomb—when I opened my eyes, and saw Hussey standing above me.’
“Now for Mr. Hussey’s statement:—
“ ‘I had an assignation with a young lady,’ says he, ‘on the night of so-and-so. A window was to be left open for me in Unthank. I had no intent whatever to commit a felony. I came to appointment, and had only one moment entered when I heard rapid footsteps outside, and a man, with a desperate look on him, hurried into the room, snatched a pistol from a drawer, put it to his head, and, before I could stop him, fired. I swear that, so far from killing him, I tried to prevent him killing himself. I jumped, even as he fell, and tore the pistol from his hand. Simultaneous with his deed, I heard a scream outside. Still holding the weapon, I went to the door, and saw the form of her I had come to visit lying in that trance from which she has but now recovered. As I stood stupefied, the Watch entered and took me. From that time I knew that, lacking her evidence, it was hopeless to attempt to clear myself. After sentence I broke prison, rushed straight to her house, found her lying there, and called out upon her to wake and help me. She answered at once, stirring and coming out of her trance. I know no more than that she did; and there is the whole truth.’ ”
The Deputy Clerk stopped. No one spoke.
“Now, gentlemen,” said he, “I don’t ask you to pronounce upon those affidavits. In the upshot the law accepted them, admitting a miscarriage of justice. What I ask your verdict on is this: Could the law, after quashing its own conviction, hold the man responsible for any act committed by him during, and as the direct result of, that wrongful imprisonment?”
This started the ball, and for minutes it was tossed back and forth. Presently the tumult subsided, and Brindley spoke authoritatively for the rest—
“Certainly it could, and for any violence committed in the act. Provocation may extenuate, but it don’t justify. Prison-breaking, per se, is an offence against the law; so’s being found without any visible means of subsistence, though your pocket may just have been picked of its last penny. Any concessions in these respects would benefit the rogue without helping the community. I won’t say that if he hadn’t, by assaulting the warder, put himself out of court——”
“That was where he wanted to put himself,” interrupted the Deputy Clerk. It was certain that he was deplorably flippant.
Brindley waved the impertinence by.
“The offence was an offence in outlawry,” he said.