Bryce reflected in silence for a moment—reckoning and calculating.
“When was this—the trial?” he asked.
“It was five years after the marriage—seventeen years ago,” replied Mr. Gilwaters.
“And—what had he been doing?” inquired Bryce.
“Stealing the bank's money,” answered the old man. “I forget what the technical offence was—embezzlement, or something of that sort. There was not much evidence came out, for it was impossible to offer any defence, and he pleaded guilty. But I gathered from what I heard that something of this sort occurred. Brake was a branch manager. He was, as it were, pounced upon one morning by an inspector, who found that his cash was short by two or three thousand pounds. The bank people seemed to have been unusually strict and even severe—Brake, it was said, had some explanation, but it was swept aside and he was given in charge. And the sentence was as I said just now—a very savage one, I thought. But there had recently been some bad cases of that sort in the banking world, and I suppose the judge felt that he must make an example. Yes—a most trying affair!—I have a report of the case somewhere, which I cut out of a London newspaper at the time.”
Mr. Gilwaters rose and turned to an old desk in the corner of his room, and after some rummaging of papers in a drawer, produced a newspaper-cutting book and traced an insertion in its pages. He handed the book to his visitor.
“There is the account,” he said. “You can read it for yourself. You will notice that in what Brake's counsel said on his behalf there are one or two curious and mysterious hints as to what might have been said if it had been of any use or advantage to say it. A strange case!”
Bryce turned eagerly to the faded scrap of newspaper.
BANK MANAGER'S DEFALCATION.
At the Central Criminal Court yesterday, John Brake,
thirty-three, formerly manager of the Upper Tooting
branch of the London & Home Counties Bank, Ltd.,
pleaded guilty to embezzling certain sums, the
property of his employers.
Mr. Walkinshaw, Q.C., addressing the court on behalf
of the prisoner, said that while it was impossible
for his client to offer any defence, there were
circumstances in the case which, if it had been worth
while to put them in evidence, would have shown that
the prisoner was a wronged and deceived man. To use
a Scriptural phrase, Brake had been wounded in the
house of his friend. The man who was really guilty
in this affair had cleverly escaped all consequences,
nor would it be of the least use to enter into any
details respecting him. Not one penny of the money
in question had been used by the prisoner for his own
purposes. It was doubtless a wrong and improper thing
that his client had done, and he had pleaded guilty and
would submit to the consequences. But if everything in
connection with the case could have been told, if it
would have served any useful purpose to tell it, it
would have been seen that what the prisoner really was
guilty of was a foolish and serious error of judgment.
He himself, concluded the learned counsel, would go so
far as to say that, knowing what he did, knowing what
had been told him by his client in strict confidence,
the prisoner, though technically guilty, was morally
innocent.
His Lordship, merely remarking that no excuse of any
sort could be offered in a case of this sort, sentenced
the prisoner to ten years' penal servitude.
Bryce read this over twice before handing back the book.