IN THREE CHAPTERS.—CONCLUSION.
To say that there was a ‘sensation’ would feebly describe what followed. Every one in court sprang to his feet. The prisoner looked as if he had seen a ghost. There was a perfect hubbub of voices, as bar and jury talked among themselves, and my brethren at the solicitors’ table poured questions upon me—to none of which I replied. Silence being restored, the voice of the judge—grave and dignified, but with a perceptible tremor—descended like vocal oil on the troubled waves of sound. ‘Who instructs you, Mr Clincher?’
‘Mr Bentley, my lord.’
The judge looked more astonished than ever. My name was familiar enough to him as a judge, and he had known it even better when, as a leading barrister, he had held many a brief from me.
‘I am persuaded,’ said he, ‘that a gentleman of Mr Bentley’s repute and experience has good reason for what he does. But so extraordinary and unheard-of—— I will ask Mr Bentley himself if he really considers that duty requires him to offer himself as a witness, and when and why he came to that conclusion?’
‘My lord,’ I replied, ‘I am certain that, believing what I have had cause to believe within the last five minutes, I should be greatly to blame if I did not testify on oath to certain facts which are within my own knowledge. But if the prisoner chooses to call me as a witness, your lordship will presently understand why it is that, with all submission, I cannot at this moment, or until I am in the box, give my reasons. And I must add that the value of my evidence to the prisoner will greatly depend on his answers to certain questions which I wish, with your lordship’s sanction, to put to him in writing. And if he answers me as I expect, I believe my evidence will put an end to the case against him.’
‘Really, gentlemen of the jury,’ said his lordship, ‘this matter is assuming a more and more remarkable aspect. I hardly know what to say. That a prisoner on trial for his life should answer questions put to him in private by the prosecuting solicitor is the most extraordinary proposal, I am bound to say, which ever came under my notice. It is the more difficult for me to decide because the prisoner has not the advantage of counsel’s assistance.—Prisoner, is it your wish that this gentleman should be called as a witness on your behalf? You have heard what he has said about certain questions which he wishes to put to you beforehand. Of course you are not bound to answer any such questions, and may nevertheless call him. What do you say?’
‘I am in God’s hands, my lord,’ answered the prisoner, who was quite calm again. ‘It may be that He has raised up a deliverer for me—I cannot tell. But I know that if He wills that I should die, no man can save me; if He wills to save me, nought can do me harm. So I am ready to answer any questions the gentleman wishes.’
‘I propose,’ said the judge, ‘before deciding this extraordinary point, to consult with the learned Recorder in the next court.’
All rose as the judge retired; and during his absence I escaped the questions which assailed me from every side by burying myself in a consultation with my counsel. When he heard what the reader knows, he fully upheld me in what I proposed to do; and then threw himself back in his seat with the air of a man whom nothing could ever astonish again.