We talked over again and again the circumstances of the case; the notes in his pocket could easily have been changed; but we could detect no means by which access had been obtained to the desk, which always stood locked, upon the drawers in their bedroom. Once only a shade seemed to cross Fred’s mind—a horrible suspicion—but a glance at his wife dispelled it, and I left him directly after kneeling at her feet.
He told me of it the next day that for a moment he had suspected Annie, “But it must have been a demon that prompted the thought, Harry, for she is as pure as the angels in heaven. It is a base plot—a diabolical plot—to ruin me and my happiness at the same time; to send me to the hulks with a vile jealousy gnawing at my heart, or he would never have chosen her desk to hide them there.”
Wearied out with conjecturing, we always arrived at the same conclusion—that it was a mystery; and one that time alone would reveal. Every preparation was made for the defence, and a barrister, well-known for his ability, was retained.
But it was all in vain. The trial came on with many others—sheep-stealing, poaching, assaults, and petty thefts; and at last, in spite of a most able defence by our counsel, the jury almost immediately returned a verdict of guilty. Then came a long homily from the judge respecting breach of confidence, advantages of education, ingratitude to indulgent masters, concluding with the sentence to fourteen years transportation.
Fred did not move a muscle, but stood as he had stood throughout the trial, erect, and with the proud consciousness of innocence written upon his brow. He beckoned to his solicitor, and begged of him to thank the barrister for his able defence; and then turned to leave the dock, returning the malicious look of French with one of calm scorn.
Just then I saw a piece of paper handed to Fred, who read it, smiled contemptuously, and crushed it in his hand; but directly after he smoothed it out, and it was passed to me.
The words upon the paper were in a disguised hand—
“Perhaps Annie will be kinder now.”
I read it by the fast fading light, and knew well enough whose hand had dealt the dastardly stab; but when I looked up, both Fred and French were gone.
Mine was to be a bitter task that night, and I stayed for quite an hour before I could summon resolution for my journey home. I had some miles to go, for our place lay at a distance from the county town; and I started at length, having quite given up the idea of breaking the news to Annie. I felt that I dared not; and on reaching my lodgings I sent a note; but a message came back that I must go on directly.