Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and II

by G. P. R. James

Charles Tyrrell instantly strode past him to the door; but Mr. Driesen laid his hand upon his arm, and stopped him, saying in answer to the look of indignation which came upon the young man's countenance, "Charles, I do not in the least suspect you; but these men below evidently do, and I have said what I have said, because it is right you should be aware and upon your guard. There may be circumstances of suspicion attached to the most perfect innocence, and in such circumstances it is absolutely necessary to be guarded. I speak to you as a friend, Charles Tyrrell, who wishes you well most sincerely. All I say is, be on your guard, remembering, that though perfectly innocent, you may be placed in a painful situation by the least imprudence."

Still Charles Tyrrell made no reply; but opened the door, walked out with a firm step, descended the stairs, round the foot of which the greater part of the servants of the house were collected, and demanded,--"Where is the body of my father?"

The butler pointed to the library without speaking, and Charles Tyrrell at once went in.

The sight that met his eye, however, seemed to strike and affect him deeply. There lay the parent with whom he had passed the greater part of his life in struggles and contentions, which had indeed embittered it terribly! There he lay! but with all those strong and fiery passions quelled forever; the fierce lightning of the eye gone out, the sarcastic sneer cleared away from the lip, and nothing left upon the countenance to denote the fierce and menacing spirit which had once dwelt therein, except the stern frown which had become so habitual on the brow as to affect the muscles themselves and leave a deep indentation, that even death could not do away. There he lay, calmer than he had ever been seen in life, and as his son gazed upon him, and marked the small trickling stream of blood, which had oozed forth and stained the sofa on which he lay, all but the terrible fact was forgotten, and the quarrels, the contentions, the violence of the past were like faintly-remembered dreams.

A crowd of emotions, many of which he had never felt toward his father before, rushed at once upon Charles Tyrrell's mind, and clasping his hands together in agony, the tears rolled silently on his cheeks.

Several of the servants followed him into the room, though Mr. Driesen had remained without, and as soon as the young gentleman had recovered some degree of composure, he questioned them at length upon all the particulars connected with the discovery of his father's body. He then asked if the coroner had been sent for, and finding that such had been the case, he retired to communicate the event to his mother.

We shall not attempt to depict the feelings of Lady Tyrrell, nor pause to trace any further the events of that day, as the imagination of the reader may easily supply the facts which did not in any degree tend to promote the ultimate result.

Early on the following morning, however, a coroner's jury assembled at Harbury Park, and after having been sworn, proceeded to view the body, which was recognised by several of the persons present, who had known the deceased gentleman under various circumstances. After having gazed at it for some time, and made several remarks, as impertinent and insignificant as the remarks of coroner's juries generally are, the jury again returned to the drawing-room, and commenced their investigation of the facts. The coroner himself was a sensible man, and a man of good feelings, and consequently the inquiry was conducted with as much decency and propriety of demeanour as possible.

In the first place, he besought the jury emphatically, to dismiss from their minds any rumour which they might have heard, previously to their entering the house. To look upon the case solely in reference to the evidence that was laid before them, and to remember that they had power to adjourn as often as necessary, in order to gain additional information, so that their verdict might be calm and deliberate, and not pronounced without full conviction.

At the suggestion of the coroner, the first person examined, was the gardener who had first discovered the body, and had called the servants to carry it to the house. He declared, that, being as usual about to go up to the house for orders from the housekeeper, he had come out of the walled garden, by the door which opened into the path leading to the mansion. At first he had remarked nothing extraordinary, but just as he had passed the tool shed--which we have noticed before as defacing the outside of the high walls--he had seen a gun lying on the ground, and thinking that it was most likely that of some poacher, who had been pursued by the keepers, and dropped it in his flight, he took a step out of the way to lift it, when beyond the next tree he saw some thing like the body of a man, and on approaching, beheld his master. He was lying on the ground, he said, with his face buried in the leaves of the wild plants, and a large rugged wound in the back of his head, which he described in a manner that we shall not dwell upon; suffice it that he must have died instantly, as the whole charge of the gun at the distance of a very few yards had been lodged in the brain. There seemed to have been no struggle, he said, for the ground was not at all beaten up, he must have had his hat on when he was shot, from the fact of a considerable part of the charge having passed through it. There was a great deal of blood upon the ground round about, he added; but no traces of footmarks of any kind, the ground being hard and dry. Horrified at what he had seen, he ran as fast as he could to the house, and brought up a number of servants to aid in removing the body, and had taken them to the spot where the body remained just as he had seen it.