A Whim, and Its Consequences / Collection of British Authors Vol. CXIV

by G. P. R. James

Counsel.--"And on what day did you say?"

Witness.--"On the fifth of February."

Counsel.--"Do you happen to recollect some circumstances that took place at your master's house on the morning of the first of that month?"

Witness, rubbing his head.--"Not quite rightly, Sir. What circumstances do you mean? I don't remember what day the first was."

Counsel.--"Then how do you happen to remember so accurately all that took place upon the fifth?"

Witness, with a laugh.--"Oh, that is easily told. We came back to Sandbourn on the sixth, and I had a precious quantity of packing up to do on the fifth; so I recollect all about that day, well enough."

Counsel.--"Now as to the time when the prisoner went away, are you quite sure that it was not half-past five that struck?"

"Quite, Sir," answered the witness; "I heard the half-hour go while I was talking with the gipsey woman, and the quarter to six just as my master and the prisoner were walking from the library to the hall-door, which I had got open in my hand. I counted three-quarters."

"You can't struggle against that," growled the judge; and the witness was suffered to go down.

"The honourable and reverend Horace Fleming," was then called, and entered the witness-box with a calm, firm step, and a look of placid dignity. "I know the prisoner in the dock," he said, in answer to the counsel's questions. "I never spoke with him but once, but have seen him several times in the grounds of Mr. Tracy, of Northferry. I always believed his real name to be Acton, till the night of the fifth of February, when I was told by my servant that he was the son of the late Sir Harry Winslow. I recollect all the events of that night, perfectly. I went into my library a little before five o'clock, to select some sermons, as I was coming over to my vicarage at Sandbourn on the following day; and about ten minutes after, my servant informed me that Mr. Tracy's head-gardener wanted to speak to me. He was shown into the library by my orders, and I asked him to sit down. I had heard from Mr. Tracy that he was a man of extraordinary information for his station in life; and it did not therefore surprise me to find him mingle very appositely quotations in Latin and Greek with his conversation. At the same time, I will own, both his manner and the request he came to make, seemed to me very strange. He was a good deal excited; and, after apologizing in a hurried manner for taking a liberty, he said, a friend of his--indeed, a relation--had been left, by Sir Harry Winslow, all the books and a great number of the pictures at Winslow Abbey; together with the large book cases, and a great deal of other furniture. Sir William Winslow, he said, was behaving very ill about the whole business; and his friend was anxious to have the various articles removed from Winslow Abbey at once, but had no place to put them in. He then went on to explain to me, that having heard I had several large apartments unfurnished in the rectory, he thought I might be induced to give these articles house-room for a few weeks, till they could be otherwise disposed of. I replied, that the rooms though large for a rectory, were low pitched and difficult of access, so that it would be impossible to place tall bookcases in them, whatever inclination I might have to render the gentleman he mentioned any service. We went to look at the rooms, and he acknowledged that what he had proposed could not be done. He stayed some little time afterwards, conversing on various subjects; and I found him a man of very extensive information, which decidedly induced me to believe that his original station in life was not that which he assumed. He spoke with considerable acerbity of Sir William Winslow; and although he affected a certain degree of roughness of manner, probably to harmonize with his assumed character, it was quite evident to me that he had received the education of a gentleman. I did suspect him to be Mr. Winslow before our conversation was at an end; so much so, indeed, that I asked him if he knew Sir William Winslow was at Northferry House. He replied, Yes; but he should keep out of his way. He left me just as the clock was striking a quarter to six. At the door, I expressed my sorrow that I could not take care of the valuable things he seemed to consider in danger; and he replied, 'It is very unfortunate, indeed; but it cannot be helped: Dominus providebit.'"