The Day of Judgment

by Joseph Hocking

"My lord and gentlemen," said Mr. Bakewell, "this is no common case, and the prisoner is no ordinary man. Although he came to Brunford as a poor lad, he soon rose to a distinguished position. So much ability did he show, and such was his influence in the town of his adoption, that he was at length invited to stand for Parliament in the interests of the working classes of the town. I would not mention this but for the fact that it bears upon the case we are now considering. It was during this contest that the prisoner accused the murdered man of acting against his, the prisoner's, interests, and of doing his best to ruin him. I shall also bring evidence to show that during this part of his history he repeatedly swore to be revenged on the deceased. By and by he was elected as Member of Parliament for Brunford, and immediately after that election, as I shall prove to you, a quarrel took place between him and the murdered man, during which the prisoner struck him a murderous blow, and was only kept back from a renewal of the attack by those who were standing round."

He then went on to describe the scenes immediately associated with the murder, and told in minutest detail the happenings which we have recorded in these pages.

As he went from point to point, all present could see, as if in the eye of imagination, link fastened to link, and every one was riveted with care and precision. The whole chain of evidence seemed perfect. Even Paul himself, as he listened, could not help feeling that, as far as circumstantial evidence was concerned, no stronger case could be brought to prove a man's guilt. Indeed, had a vote been taken at that moment, not only among the jury, but among all present, there would have been a general admission that Paul was guilty of the murder of Edward Wilson.

"It remains now, my lord and gentlemen, for me to call witnesses to prove the facts which I have laid before you. And it is for you, gentlemen, to judge whether those facts are not sufficient to pronounce the verdict of guilty upon the prisoner who now stands before you."

There was a rustle in the court as he sat down. It seemed as though everyone wanted to find relief from the tense excitement which had been created by his words. The judge shuffled in his chair and looked at his notes. The barristers who sat round nodded to each other and seemed to say that undoubtedly Bakewell had made a very fine speech. Many eyes were turned towards Paul, who remained perfectly calm. His face was hard and stony. Not a tremor was to be seen. He seemed to have no nerves. Then, before the first witness was called, he looked round the court and saw, for the first time, the face of Mary Bolitho. He had no idea that she would be present, and for a moment his heart became cold and heavy. Their eyes met, and she smiled. It is true her face was deadly pale, but there was no lack of confidence in the look she gave him. As plainly as words could say them she said: "Do not fear, Paul. I love you. I know you're innocent, and I will save you."

In spite of all that had taken place, his heart became light again. He still adhered to his resolution to keep his secret in his heart, but that one look changed the whole atmosphere of the place. He knew that the one, and the only one, for whom he cared, believed in his innocence and looked upon him with eyes of love.

The counsel was about to call the first witness when there was a sound of confusion. Through the crowded court a woman was making her way, and Paul, looking, saw his mother. How she got there he did not know, but got there she had. He saw how pale and haggard her face was, saw, too, that her eyes gleamed with the old light which had shone from them on the night of the murder. He thought she seemed to be making straight for him, but she presently stopped. The judge was at that moment busily making notes. Presently, however, he lifted his head as if in wonder at the counsel's delay. She looked at Paul, but only for a moment. Her eyes were fixed upon Judge Bolitho.

"It's Stepaside's mother," whispered someone to Mr. Bakewell, and many eyes were turned towards her.

Then a scream rent the air—a scream of agony, of madness, and the woman fell down in the court insensible.