“And we,” cried Daphne, “claim the right to help; and when you are acquitted, you will find all your debts paid, and need not trouble yourself where the money comes from.”
Tears sprang to Giles’ eyes at this, and he looked gratefully upon us all.
“Dear friends,” he said, “I thank you; but I shall not be acquitted. Sir Thomas Vernon and Lady Arabella Stormont thirst for my blood, and by my own folly I have put the noose around my neck. But I say to you from the bottom of my heart that I rather would die upon the gibbet than be married to Lady Arabella. God was good to me in giving her to me as my enemy instead of my wife.”
There was something in this; for what man could think, without shuddering, of taking Arabella Stormont to wife?
I saw that Giles had completely recovered from his madness. He blamed no one, frankly acknowledging his own folly, and bore himself as became an officer and a gentleman.
Sir Peter would by no means admit there was the smallest chance of an adverse verdict; but although I could not bring myself to believe that the extreme penalty of the law would be carried out, yet I thought it very likely that the case was too plain for Giles to escape conviction. The conduct of Daphne and Lady Hawkshaw to him was such that I came out of the jail with a deeper reverence, a higher esteem for women than I had known before, although I had always believed them to be God’s angels on earth (with a few exceptions). So gentle and caressing was Daphne, so boldly and determinedly friendly was Lady Hawkshaw, that it did one’s heart good. Daphne announced her intention of going to see Sir Thomas Vernon and pleading with him, while Lady Hawkshaw threatened to give him her opinion of him publicly, which was, indeed, a dreadful threat.
The trial came off at the February Assizes, and on the night before was the great assize ball. The word was passed around that all of Giles Vernon’s friends were to attend this ball, by way of showing our confidence—alas!—in his acquittal. Therefore, on that night, we—that is, the Hawkshaws, Daphne, and I—were to go to the ball in all the state we could muster. We had taken lodgings at York for the trial.
The evening of the ball found the streets crowded as I had never seen them before. The great case, which would be reached within a day or two, brought crowds to attend the Assizes, many persons coming even from London. These were chiefly gentlemen of the nobility and gentry who were friends of Giles Vernon’s, for never man had so many friends.
It was a cold bright February night; and the street in front of the assize hall where the ball was held was packed with chariots, chaises, and people on foot, flaring torches and bawling footmen, as if it were a London rout. As our carriage passed the entrance, the way was blocked by the judges’ chariots, from which they descended in state. Our coachman, whipping up to get the next place in line, locked wheels with the coach of Sir Thomas Vernon. He sat back, his face visible by the lamps in the courtyard, and as unconcerned as if the case which had brought us all to York was one of his servants beating the watch, instead of the trial of his relative and heir on a capital charge.
The crowd showed its disapproval of Sir Thomas by hurling abusive epithets at him, which only caused him to smile. But he had another enemy to encounter, which was Lady Hawkshaw, and in full sight and hearing of the judges, as they stepped with stately tread up the stairs, occurred a battle a mort between her and Sir Thomas Vernon, to the intense enjoyment of the crowd, which was uproariously on Lady Hawkshaw’s side. Neither Sir Peter nor I took any part in the fray, seeing Lady Hawkshaw had the best of it from the start, and that, woman against man, the populace was heartily with her.