"Permit the prisoner, my lord, to answer my question in the first place. My memory is bad," he added, dryly, "and before we got to the end I might forget it. Now, answer me, prisoner,--that is, if you do not object--there is no compulsion, remember,--if the murderer were brought before you, could you and would you point him out, and swear to him!"
"That I could do so," answered Pharold, "I have already said; but that I would do so, I do not know. It would depend upon circumstances."
Lord Dewry looked suddenly up, and their eyes met, but there was nothing in Pharold's glance at that moment but cold stern indifference; and those who saw the look he gave the peer could not have distinguished that he was moved towards him by any other feelings than those which might well exist between the accused and the accuser. Lord Dewry paused, and a momentary feeling of remorse for that which he was engaged in crossed his bosom, now that he saw even persecution would hardly make the gipsy violate his word so far as to betray his fearful secret. But he had gone too far to recede, and he crushed the better feeling. He called up the image of Sir William Ryder returning to England, and supporting a charge against him by the testimony of the gipsy; he recalled the state of feverish apprehension in which he had lived for twenty years; and he went on with the work he had begun, resolved that the struggle should be commenced and ended now for ever, in the vain hope that thus his latter days might pass in peace!
"Now, my lord," said the magistrate, when the gipsy had replied--"now, my lord, I beg pardon for having detained you."
"Well, then, sir," answered Lord Dewry, with some of his haughty spirit breaking out even then--"well, then, if it quite suits your convenience, I will proceed. I must give a slight sketch of some events long passed, gentlemen; and the clerks had better take it down as my deposition, which may be sworn to hereafter. Not very long after my brother's death, gentlemen, I had some money transactions to settle with an honourable friend of mine, one Sir Roger Millington; and I went to London for the purpose. I found him just returned from Ireland; and he told me that, in the neighbourhood of Holyhead, he had met with an accident by which one of his finest horses had nearly been killed; but that he had obtained a secret from a gipsy there by which the animal had been completely cured. You may easily suppose I gave the anecdote but little attention at the time. In settling our accounts, however, Sir Roger had to give me, in change for a larger sum, several smaller notes, on which he wrote his name. I took no great notice of these bits of paper till I returned to the country, when, on looking them over, I found, to my surprise, that one of them was marked with my brother's own name, in his own handwriting. This led to further examination; and in this banker's book, and also in these memoranda, I found, by the dates and numbers of the notes, that the very note in question must have been drawn by my poor brother from his bankers the day before his death. The next thing to be discovered was, where Sir Roger Millington had obtained it; but, as that gentleman was continually moving about from place to place, some time elapsed ere I could see him again. When I did so, however, I found that he had received this very note from a gipsy called Pharold, at Holyhead, in change for a larger one given him in order to purchase the secret by which the worthy knight's horse had been cured."
"A most singular coincidence!" cried Mr. Arden. "Murder will out, gentlemen!"
"For a long time no trace could be discovered of the gipsy," continued Lord Dewry; "but at length he suddenly reappeared in this neighbourhood; and one of my keepers obtained information that he and his gang had laid a plan for robbing my park of the deer. On his telling me this, I ordered him to take such measures as he thought expedient for seizing the whole of them in the fact; much more anxious, indeed, to capture my brother's murderer than to punish the deer-stealers. It so happened, that just at the same time Sir Roger Millington came down to pay me a visit; and on hearing that the culprit was likely to fall into our hands that very night, he insisted upon coming over here, both to direct the operations of the keepers, and to satisfy himself that this gipsy Pharold is the same from whom he received the note. I would fain have persuaded him that it was a wild scheme; but he was a soldier, gentlemen, and accustomed to contemn all dangers. The unhappy result you know. He was mortally wounded, and is now lying in a state of delirium, if he be not already dead. Last night, however, I took advantage of a time when his mind was quite clear and rational, to obtain from him this declaration in the presence of competent witnesses; and herein you will find that he positively states that the man Pharold, whom he saw with the gipsy deer-stealers in Dimden Park, was the same from whom he received this note."
"Foul, hellish liar!" exclaimed Pharold, starting abruptly from the state of calm and apparently indifferent thought in which he had been standing, with his eyes fixed upon the handcuffs on his wrists, and his head bent down. "Foul, hellish liar! He never either gave me aught, or had aught from me! I cured his noble beast for nothing; and not for his sake either; but he gave me naught, nor would I have taken his gold if he had offered it."
"What, then," cried Mr. Arden, "you acknowledge that you did see this gentleman at Holyhead, and did cure his horse by some nostrum in your possession! Clerk, take that down carefully."
"Ay, and take down that, if in dying he say he either gave me aught or received aught from me," continued Pharold, vehemently, "he goes to the place appointed for liars and false witnesses, if the great God of all the universe be a God of justice and righteousness."