‘Yes! I went up by the five-thirty train.’
‘One moment, Mr Hindes. Can you tell me if Mr Walcheren was aware of Mr Crampton’s intention to cut his daughter out of his will before this marriage took place?’
‘I do not know! I was deputed once to make Mr Crampton’s wishes relative to his daughter known to Mr Walcheren, and the risk may have been mentioned, but he would not take it as a definite decision from me. The chief objection always brought forward was to his religion. Mr Crampton would not hear of his daughter marrying a Roman Catholic.’
‘Of course not! very natural!’ observed Mr Procter, who, like most of the middle classes in England, was an ultra-Protestant, and only connected Catholicism with monasteries, nunneries, fasting, confession and the Grand Inquisition.
‘That will do, Mr Hindes! you can stand down,’ said the coroner, with a smile. The next witnesses examined were Mr Cameron, the landlord of the Castle Warden, and the waiters and chambermaids, who had or had not seen poor Jenny Walcheren leave the hotel on that fatal day.
Then came a call for the last witness—the witness whom Mr Procter had purposely reserved to the last.
‘Tell Mr Frederick Walcheren he is required.’
But Philip Walcheren stepped forward instead.
‘Are you the husband of the deceased, sir?’
‘No! I am his cousin. I have come to ask you if his presence and testimony on this, the most trying occasion of his life, cannot be dispensed with? He is half beside himself with grief. Picture to yourself, gentlemen, a young husband bereft the very day after his wedding of all that made his life happy. He is not in a fit state to answer any questions, nor to have his inmost feelings submitted to scrutiny. Besides, he knows no more than you do! He parted with his poor wife in radiant health and spirits on Saturday morning, and never saw her again until she lay on that table as you have seen her. The doctor has given you his testimony that her death was the result of a pure accident! Is it necessary, then, that my poor cousin should be tortured by recalling in public the memories that are nearly driving him out of his mind.’