The Day of Judgment

by Joseph Hocking

"I must save him; I must!" she said to herself. "Paul knows of something which he refuses to tell me. He is shielding someone."

Naturally she knew nothing of what her father had learnt that night, had no suspicion of the revelations which, when they became known to her, would destroy the thousand fancies which she had cherished and revolutionise her life. The one dominant thought in her mind was that the man whom, in spite of herself, she had learnt to love, was charged with murder, and that unless something was done to nullify the evidence which had been brought to court that day he would have to pay the penalty with his life. Paul, for some reason unknown to her, would not use the means she was sure he had in his power in order to save his life. Of course it was pure surmise on her part, but she was perfectly certain of it; and what he would not do she must do.

Throughout the evening she had been reading the Brunford papers, in which the whole story had been described. Paul's first appearance before the magistrates; the coroner's inquest; and, again, the second appearance before the local justices; and his final committal. No detail of these reports had escaped her notice, and now, after her talk with her father, she again set herself to consider the whole question, determined, at whatever hazards, to save her lover.

Finally her mind fastened upon two or three thoughts, and these thoughts became the centre around which everything revolved. To begin with, Ned Wilson was murdered. Next, Paul Stepaside, who was being tried for that murder, was guiltless of it; that also was a settled conviction in her mind. Who, then, was guilty? Someone must have done the deed, but who? In whatever light murder could be considered, it was something ghastly beyond words. The person who had driven Paul's knife into the murdered man's heart must have had a terrible motive. What could that motive have been? Who would be likely to do it? Who had a motive sufficiently strong to commit such a crime? She thought of one person after another, realising all the time that her imaginings were vain. Yet she knew that it was in this direction that the truth, if it were to be discovered, must be found.

She went over the whole story of the knife, and remembered the deadly words which the counsel for the prosecution had uttered about it. The knife was known to belong to Paul. It was lying in his office, an office which he always locked when he left it. She remembered that Paul's partner had sworn that he knew of no one who would be likely to, or, indeed, could, enter the office and take it away without Paul's knowledge and consent. And yet someone must have done so, for she was still certain that Paul had never done the deed.

Presently she began to think of the question from another standpoint. She had told Paul that he was trying to shield someone. She did not attach much importance to it at the time, but now its consequence became very real. If her surmise were true, then Paul would rather suffer death himself than tell what he knew. She had pleaded with him, only as a woman moved by a great love could plead. With her arms round his neck and her eyes fastened on his she had besought him to tell the truth, and he had been silent. Only the strongest of all reasons could have kept him silent.

Her heart gave a great leap. With that swift intuition of which only a woman is capable her mind leapt to its conclusion. There was only one person in the world besides herself whom Paul loved dearly, and that was his mother.

Like lightning she began to connect the evidence, and it seemed to her that at last she had found the key to unlock the mystery. It was for his mother's sake that Paul was bearing the shame and was suffering the torments of a man accused of murder. She felt sure she had found the truth, and she was at last in a position to save his life. Everything fitted in with the thought which had so suddenly flashed into her mind. Who would have free access to Paul's office? His mother. Why should he refuse to engage a counsel to defend him? Because he feared to incriminate his mother. Again she read the evidence at the coroner's inquest, and noted each point. And she saw, or thought she saw, evidence in every word he had uttered of his endeavour to keep all thoughts from being directed to her.

Presently, however, difficulties began to appear before her mind. What motive could she have had to do this deed? Again her mind worked swiftly. She was, according to all she had heard of her, a passionate woman. She loved Paul with all the strength of her being. For him she had toiled. For him she had suffered. And it was the gossip of the town that Paul's mother loved her son with a wild and almost unreasoning love. She knew of Ned Wilson's enmity towards Paul, knew how he had persecuted him through the years. Possibly, probably, she knew of her son's love for herself, Mary Bolitho; knew, too, that gossip had connected her own name with that of Ned Wilson. Of course, a great deal of it was surmise, but everything pointed to the one fact. Besides, Paul, on his return home after his quarrel with Wilson, would probably tell her about it. He would not be able to hide his wounded forehead. The blood would be trickling down his face, and she would ask him questions about it. Would not a vindictive, passionate woman such as she was said to be, seek to avenge her son? And, of course, Paul would discover everything. The evidence of the servants had proved that Paul had left the house during the night. Why? Yes, that was it. Of course, he would do everything to keep even a shadow of suspicion from resting upon her. It would be like him to do so. Paul's mother had come back, and he had discovered what she had done. That would explain the mystery of the knife. Paul, even though he might have so far yielded to the spirit of revenge as to kill his enemy, would never leave a knife in his victim's body known to be his, and which could be identified and traced to him. But a woman was different, especially such a woman as Paul's mother. Of course, there were motives which she could not understand, thoughts in her mind which were yet hidden from her; but this was the key, this would unlock the door of the mystery, and this would save her lover's life. No, no; much as Paul might love his mother, much as he owed to her, she could not allow him to suffer death in his mother's stead. It was too horrible.

She called to mind the scene she had witnessed that morning. She remembered being startled by the face of the woman who found her way into the court. She had seen the look of madness in her eyes as she looked first at Paul and then at her father. After which she uttered the scream of a maniac and then fell to the ground.