The jury's message of mercy was duly sent to the Home Office, and there soon followed it a great many petitions to the same effect, signed by thousands of all grades of society, from the bishop to the bricklayer. The prisoner was no hardened criminal, and the fatal blow, or push, or whatever it was, was given in defence of his household goods. Before deciding on the question of life or death, the Home Secretary consulted the judge, and communicated, as usual, with Scotland Yard. He required full particulars of the antecedents of the two men, and wished to know if it was within the range of possibility for Sydney Marshall to have escaped with his life.
"The press has not left us much to discover," remarked the chief, as he handed me the letter from the Home Office. "This is Tuesday; the answer must go on Friday. See if you can throw any new light on the subject."
It may be as well to state here that every care is taken that these revelations will not injure living individuals. When it is considered desirable, names of persons and places are more or less changed, but otherwise the eventful episodes are real, and the author only writes about matters in which he was personally concerned in his official capacity:
In search of information for the Home Secretary, I had an interview with the prisoner at Lewes Gaol (the murder was committed near Brighton), and saw all the relatives and acquaintances of the two men in London, and the following is what I learned:—
Edward Fraser and Sydney Marshall had been intimate friends. They first got to know each other through Miss Evans, who became the wife of Fraser, and afterwards ran away with Marshall. This frail but pretty young woman was the daughter of a draper at Kensington. "More beauty than wit," was how an old lady described her. She was, however, wise enough to give her hand to the more eligible of her two suitors. Marshall was a clerk in a city bank, and had only his salary to depend on, whereas Fraser was a junior partner with his father, a solicitor in Gray's Inn. Considering that there had been a serious quarrel, ending in blows, in the presence of the young lady, it was surprising that Marshall cared to remain intimate with the newly-married couple, but he may have had his revenge in view.
Except in their affection for the same young lady, no two individuals could have been more dissimilar in their tastes and habits than Fraser and Marshall. It was an instance of extremes meeting. Marshall read much, and was a thinker, persuasive and subtle. He effectually hid his wicked designs underneath a placid exterior. Not easily got out of temper, and when there was a purpose in view he was never impatient. In appearance he was rather handsome, of the medium height, slightly built, and very dark; eyes closely set together (a bad sign), small and bright.
On the other hand, Fraser was a tall, fair-haired, blue-eyed Saxon—an athlete not unknown at certain running-grounds, and at the Oval—a young man not over fond of book learning, but full of life, and a capital companion. His father had given him a year on the Continent before taking him into partnership, and in his travels he had managed to perfect his knowledge of the French and German languages. It was his ability to speak French which suggested the idea of his going to the Mauritius, and it was while on this voyage that his friend betrayed him.
His marriage with Miss Evans was not popular with his parents; they saw what a silly, frivolous girl she was, but they could not make him listen to reason. He was in love, I suppose, and consequently a little insane. At the wedding Marshall acted as best man, and a sister of his was one of the bridesmaids. The short honeymoon was spent in Paris, and on their return the happy pair found the villa they had taken ready for occupation. Enjoying excellent health, and with a good position, no two young people could have commenced their married life with finer prospects; but vessels sometimes founder in summer seas. Their happiness was fated to be but short-lived; their intimate friend was biding his opportunity to destroy it.