The ways of the hour

by James Fenimore Cooper

“Indeed! Waal, I had set her down as just the contrary—for to me she seems to be as unconcerned as if the wise four-and-twenty had not presented her to justice in the name of the people.”

“It is not in that sense that I am bothered—no client ever gave counsel less trouble than Mary Monson in that respect. To me, Timms, she does not appear to have any concern in reference to the result.”

“Supreme innocence, or a well-practised experience. I have defended many a person whom I knew to be guilty, and two or three whom I believed to be innocent; but never before had as cool a client as this!”

And very true was this. Even the announcement of the presentment by the grand jury appeared to give Mary Monson no great alarm. Perhaps she anticipated it from the first, and had prepared herself for the event, by an exercise of a firmness little common to her sex until the moments of extreme trial, when their courage would seem to rise with the occasion. On her companion, whom Timms had so elegantly styled her ‘Lady Friend,’ certainly as thoroughly vulgar an expression as was ever drawn into the service of the heroics in gentility, warm-hearted and faithful Marie Moulin, the intelligence produced far more effect. It will be remembered that Wilmeter overheard the single cry of “Mademoiselle” when this Swiss was first admitted to the gaol; after which an impenetrable veil closed around their proceedings. The utmost good feeling and confidence were apparent in the intercourse between the young mistress and her maid; if, indeed, Marie might thus be termed, after the manner in which she was treated. So far from being kept at the distance which it is usual to observe towards an attendant, the Swiss was admitted to Mary Monson’s table; and to the eyes of indifferent observers she might very well pass for what Timms had so elegantly called a “lady friend.” But Jack Wilmeter knew too much of the world to be so easily misled. It is true, that when he paid his short visits to the gaol, Marie Moulin sat sewing at the prisoner’s side, and occasionally she even hummed low, national airs while he was present; but knowing the original condition of the maid-servant, our young man was not to be persuaded that his uncle’s client was her peer, any more than were the jurors who, agreeably to that profound mystification of the common law, are thus considered and termed. Had not Jack Wilmeter known the real position of Marie Moulin, her “Mademoiselle” would have let him deeper into the secrets of the two than it is probable either ever imagined. This word, in common with those of “Monsieur” and “Madame,” are used, by French servants, differently from what they are used in general society. Unaccompanied by the names, the domestics of France commonly and exclusively apply them to the heads of families, or those they more immediately serve. Thus, it was far more probable that Marie Moulin, meeting a mere general acquaintance in the prisoner, would have called her “Mademoiselle Marie,” or “Mademoiselle Monson,” or whatever might be the name by which she had known the young lady, than by the general and still more respectful appellation of “Mademoiselle.” On this peculiarity of deportment Jack Wilmeter speculated profoundly; for a young man who is just beginning to submit to the passion of love is very apt to fancy a thousand things that he would never dream of seeing in his cooler moments. Still, John had fancied himself bound in the spells of another, until this extraordinary client of his uncle’s so unexpectedly crossed his path. Such is the human heart.

Good and kind-hearted Mrs. Gott allowed the prisoner most of the privileges that at all comported with her duty. Increased precautions were taken for the security of the accused, as soon as the presentment of the grand jury was made, by a direct order from the court; but, these attended to, it was in the power of her whom Timms might have called the “lady sheriff,” to grant a great many little indulgences, which were quite cheerfully accorded, and, to all appearances, as gratefully accepted.

John Wilmeter was permitted to pay two regular visits at the grate each day, and as many more as his ingenuity could invent plausible excuses for making. On all occasions Mrs. Gott opened the outer door with the greatest good will; and, like a true woman as she is, she had the tact to keep as far aloof from the barred window where the parties met, as the dimensions of the outer room would allow. Marie Moulin was equally considerate, generally plying her needle at such times, in the depth of the cell, with twice the industry manifested on other occasions. Nevertheless, nothing passed between the young people that called for this delicate reserve. The conversation, it is true, turned as little as possible on the strange and awkward predicament of one of the colloquists, or the employment that kept the young man at Biberry. Nor did it turn at all on love. There is a premonitory state in these attacks of the heart, during which skilful observers may discover the symptoms of approaching disease, but which do not yet betray the actual existence of the epidemic. On the part of Jack himself, it is true that these symptoms were getting to be not only somewhat apparent, but they were evidently fast becoming more and more distinct; while, on the part of the lady, any one disposed to be critical might have seen that her colour deepened, and there were signs of daily increasing interest in them, as the hours for these interviews approached. She was interested in her young legal adviser; and interest, with women, is the usual precursor of the master-passion. Wo betide the man who cannot interest, but who only amuses!

Although so little to the point was said in the short dialogues between Wilmeter and Mary Monson, there were dialogues held with the good Mrs. Gott, by each of the parties respectively, in which less reserve was observed; and the heart was permitted to have more influence over the movements of the tongue. The first of these conversations that we deem it necessary to relate, that took place after the presentment, was one that immediately succeeded an interview at the barred window, and which occurred three days subsequently to the consultation in town, and two after Timms’s machinery was actively at work in the county.

“Well, how do you find her spirits to-day, Mr. Wilmington?” asked Mrs. Gott, kindly, and catching the conventional sound of the young man’s name, from having heard it so often in the mouth of Michael Millington. “It is an awful state for any human being to be in, and she a young, delicate woman; to be tried for murder, and for setting fire to a house, and all so soon!”

“The most extraordinary part of this very extraordinary business, Mrs. Gott,” Jack replied, “is the perfect indifference of Miss Monson to her fearful jeopardy! To me, she seems much more anxious to be closely immured in gaol, than to escape from a trial that one would think, of itself, might prove more than so delicate a young lady could bear up against.”

“Very true, Mr. Wilmington; and she never seems to think of it at all! You see what she has done, sir?”