To prove my innocence was by no means so easy a task as it would appear. Two river-watchers swore point-blank to having seen me and my fellow-prisoner at the edge of the pool fishing with torches, that they watched us for a considerable time, and at daybreak followed us to the cottage where we were apprehended.
The oaths of these two men, combined with circumstantial evidence, were so strong against me that I almost doubted whether I had been poaching or not! My urgent declaration that I had been sitting upon a rock all night seemed weakish; it wouldn’t “wash.” I overheard one of the magistrates whisper to his neighbour something about “a cock-and-bull story.”
I had well-nigh broken down in my alibi when the landlord of the Coach and Horses rushed into court. But he could only identify me as the missing gentleman.
“Where did you pass the night?” was the repeated question from the Bench. I had never found so much difficulty in accounting for myself during a night in my life; and my assurance that I had been benighted upon a mountain gave rise to much merriment amongst the audience, salmon poaching being at that time a very common offence in Wales. On the other hand the two river-watchers had sworn that they had followed us, step by step, from the pool to the cottage—a distance of two miles—and that they had never lost sight of us. The fact proved to be that they had followed and apprehended two men, but the second poacher had slipped out of the cottage when the watchers entered, and I had slipped into his place!
My landlord of the Coach and Horses pleaded earnestly for my acquittal, but facts are stubborn—so are Welsh justices; and it was with the greatest reluctance that the Bench consented to release me on bail, to come up again for judgment in a week, during which time further inquiry would be made into my statement.
My triumphant return to the Coach and Horses was an occasion of much rejoicing, though I believe there are some who to this day have felt disinclined to acquit me of all complicity in the salmon poaching foray.
When the day of judgment arrived I took with me “young David,” the son of the landlord, and sought the cottage from which I had been so roughly taken. My disappointment was great at finding the house closed and the door barred, having no appearance of occupation about it. I was turning away in despair when we heard the bleating of a calf, which showed the place was not altogether deserted.
We resolved to wait till the evening set in, concluding that someone interested in the young calf would respond to its pitiful appeal; nor were we wrong in our surmise. As the evening closed in we espied a woman in the distance, leading a black cow towards the house. We lay in ambush till matters were sufficiently advanced to prevent an abrupt appearance from interrupting the domestic arrangements, and then, taking David to interpret for me, I asked the woman if she remembered having seen me before.
Apparently much alarmed, she flew into a rage, denouncing me in terms which, David informed me, were anything but complimentary, and declaring that I had betrayed her husband and brother, and caused them to be apprehended by the watchers. It took some time to “moderate the rancour” of this lady’s tongue, but when we had brought her to reason, she agreed to come forward and state in the court that I had come to the cottage, on the morning in question, before her husband and brother, and had not seen them till we met at the cottage. Questioned about her brother, she said he had sailed for America.