The Hawks of Hawk-Hollow: A Tradition of Pennsylavania

by Robert Montgomery Bird

"With your honour's permission," said the Deputy, who had been whispering to one of the under functionaries of justice, and now looked up in some perplexity, "I will recall the witness Sterling to the stand; though I humbly submit, I know no more than your honour what he has to say more. Yet he desires to be recalled."

"Ay, let him come," said Hyland, clasping his hands with joy. "He remembers the circumstance; for I showed him the pistol, and he told me the shot could be only taken out by a drill."

At this moment, the current of feeling was strongly in the prisoner's favour, and the condition of his weapon rendering it impossible that it could have discharged the fatal bullet, there was scarce a man present who did not believe him innocent, and believe so with pleasure, notwithstanding his unhappy connexion with the outlaws. But it was destined to be seen upon what a reed they had based their commiseration and belief, when Sterling, appearing again, craved to mention a circumstance which was now recalled to his memory by the turn of proceedings, and of which his previous forgetfulness should be rightly attributed to illness and disorder of mind. He remembered well the conversation of which the prisoner spoke; he had said, that nothing but a drill would remove the obstruction; but—and here he spoke with a degree of agitation that showed his reluctance to advance any thing against the prisoner—it happened that the conversation terminated in himself offering to remove the difficulty, by taking the pistol with him to Elsie Bell's, where some instrument might be found to serve the purpose; that he had, accordingly, taken it, leaving one of his own pistols with the prisoner, but had found neither leisure nor opportunity to repair it; that the circumstances of flight had prevented a re-exchange; and finally, that the incident had not been again thought of by him until the present moment. He was not himself disarmed until after Falconer's death; he had a pistol in his hand at the moment, which he dropped, while seizing upon the prisoner; and taking it up again (as he supposed) afterwards, it was probable he had then, without observing it, regained his own; and this might perhaps be the weapon with which the unfortunate shot had been fired. He was disarmed a few moments afterwards, and was then seized with indisposition, which prevented his examining into the matter, or indeed thinking of it.

This testimony was as decisive as it was wholly unexpected. It struck the prisoner dumb, and his looks of horror were esteemed the best proofs of guilt. It was in vain that he afterwards exclaimed that the witness had sworn falsely; he had no testimony to disprove the story, and it was one that all others found apt and true, especially when Sterling's pistols having been examined, one of them was discovered to be empty. No one had dreamed of doubting the prisoner's guilt, until the moment when his sudden burst of animation at the sight of the weapons, threw all into confusion; and such was the change of feeling produced by Sterling's testimony, that it soon became the general impression that the prisoner had been playing a part in first acknowledging himself guilty, and then affecting to be surprised into a belief of his own innocence. Such an opinion as this could not, indeed, long prevail; for it was manifest, upon considering the circumstances, that the prisoner must have been as ignorant as others of the true condition of the pistols, unless he had previously, as if in anticipation of arrest, founded his whole scheme of bloodshed upon the accident of the obstruction; in which case he must have fired the other pistol, which was still loaded, or used some third one, which he had cast out of sight, although instantly surrounded by many different persons. The testimony of Sterling afforded the only and the best solution of the riddle, as far as it related to the crime; while in regard to the prisoner himself, all that could be imagined to account for his change of deportment, was to suppose that even he had forgotten the original exchange of weapons,—that he was inspired with the hope of escape, upon the presentation of his own as that by which the murder had been committed,—and that that hope, thus accidentally excited, still nerved him to assert his innocence.

The contest was however over, the hour of grace was past, and the jury, after being charged in a manner highly unfavourable to him, were sent out to form a verdict, the character of which no one thought of doubting. It was even supposed that a few moments would suffice to terminate their deliberations, and that they would shortly return, to pronounce the word of doom. In this, however, the spectators were disappointed: some merciful, or doubting member of the panel had thrown a difficulty in the way of others; and, the prisoner being remanded, the court was adjourned until such time as they should be found to have agreed upon a verdict.

In the meanwhile, expectation was still on the stretch; the spectators from a distance still lingered in the village, the villagers themselves wandered up and down, or collected together at their doors in groups, all awaiting the tap of the bell that should call the court together to receive the verdict, and all agitated by the thousand rumours that were supposed to have made their way from the jury-room. It was twenty times, at least, in the course of the night, reported that the jury had already agreed, and twenty times there was a rush of people towards the court-doors, anxious and eager to behold the bearing of the prisoner, while listening to the word that should consign him to the death of a felon; but twenty times curiosity was disappointed; and the morning came without bringing the jury from their place of deliberation.

But long before the night had passed away, a new feature was added to the story of Hyland's fate, and new characters mingled in the drama, bringing with them new revelations.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Peace: thou hast told a tale, whose every word Threatens eternal slaughter to thy soul. ———Heaven is angry, and, be thou resolved, Thou art a man remark'd to taste of mischief: Look for't; though it come late, it will come sure. FORD.