THE DEFENSE

On the day that Magendie took the case I had a taste of another kind of lawing than Pitcairn's, for the London man, to speak in a common phrase, oiled everybody. He poured oil over Carew; he drenched Hugh Pitcairn in it; smoothed the jury with it, and I learned to the full the legal value of the unantagonistic mind. After this he turned a light on the case from the other side, giving it an entirely different appearance, holding up the slateful of charges against Danvers, and sponging them carefully off one by one, until I was amazed at his abilities.

There were three important gentlemen, conversant with the duke's habits, to prove that the duke's lung trouble had accustomed him to fresh air, that he slept with all of his windows raised, and that it was his custom to have the window open near him, no matter what the weather. And following came Huey, with the statements that both of the pistols had been at Stair House since before Mr. Danvers's marriage, and that he had put one of them, with a new hagged flint, in the desk at which his grace was writing, within a few days of the murder. Father Michel followed, saying that Danvers had spent the evening of the murder with him, trying to persuade him to go on a sail for a few days, leaving his house about midnight in a composed and quiet frame of mind, with his cap in his hand, it being his custom to go about in all kinds of weather in that manner, a habit contracted at the English school where he was educated. And before any one could stop him, Father Michel, who I knew was tutored to the illegal conduct by Magendie, said earnestly:

"I consider it my duty to state, with no betrayal of my sacred offices, that I know, by the confessional Mr. Carmichael to be innocent of this foul deed."

Pitcairn was roaring objections in a minute, with Carew sustaining him, as was but legally decent; but it mattered little, for the jurors had heard, and I knew that the holy man's words would stick in their minds at verdict time.

Following Father Michel came two respectable serving-men from Arran, declaring that early the morning after the murder Mr. Danvers had sent them to Leith to say that he no longer wanted the boat, and that they had found its owner, the one who had testified for the prosecution, in such a state of intoxication that they could not make their errand clear, and left the message with his errand-boy, who was produced to verify the truth of their statements. And after him came Nancy Stair again, recalled for the defense, to swear to a letter sent to the duke by her the morning of the day of his demise, which read as follows:

And after, Jamie Henderlin swore that it was he who ran across the grounds, on his way home from a wedding, and that he had heard the shots and mentioned them to his mother on his arrival at the Burnside, thus identifying the small figure I had seen running through the shaft of light, and wiping away the last black mark on the slate against Danvers.

Mr. Magendie asked permission at this point to address the court, saying that the defense had been reserved by Mr. Carmichael's wish, and that the manner of the duke's taking off had been a known thing to both of them for more than a week, but that Mr. Carmichael had stood his trial in order that every charge against him might be cleared away. And after raising public expectation to its highest, and ridiculing the idea that a man of intelligence should murder another and leave a weapon heavily marked with his own name by the side of the dead; or that because a man had uttered some threats of again challenging one whom he had already met upon the field of honor, he should be accused of being a midnight assassin, there was called the last witness for the defense:

"Lord Rothermel!"

The entrance of this distinguished statesman, whose friendship for the great Pitt kept him constantly in the public eye, caused little less than a sensation. As he took the oath, I had a near view of him; his dignified bearing, his age, and his notable integrity showing at every turn, the tones of his voice filling the court with a peculiar resonance while he deponed as follows:

"I come," he said, "as a messenger from Mr. Pitt, who regrets that his Majesty's affairs, connected with the troublous times in France, prevent his leaving London. I have his deposition, however, and the case has been fully set before me by him, so that I feel I am in a position to tell the whole truth of this disastrous affair and to set Mr. Carmichael before the world as a free man.

"There existed between Mr. Pitt and the late Duke of Borthwicke, as the world knows, a peculiar friendship. On the third morning after the duke's death there came to Mr. Pitt a packet, taken from Stair House and mailed about five of the morning upon which the duke died, directed in the duke's hand, containing three things:

"First — The findings of the Lighthouse Commission.

"Second. — Some information from the French, a document of twenty-two pages, writ in a cipher known to but five persons in the United Kingdom, which paper alone convinced Mr. Pitt of the authenticity of the document; and last, a personal letter, the original of which Lord Rothermel begged to read before it be given to the jury:

I was dimly conscious of the uproar which arose in the court-room, for I was away in a by-gone time, a vision before me, clear as a picture, of a sunny room, myself at a writing-desk overlooking accounts, and a small curly haired child poring over a book on the rug at my feet

I can recall the fear that seized me as the duke's letter was being examined by those familiar with his writings; the chill I felt as Blake, who knew his hand the best, was summoned to inspect it; my terror as he hesitated, with all the time that sing-song refrain going over and over in my head, so loud that I was afraid that everyone in the court would hear it; and then, far away and little, like a wood-call, "Nancy made it —— " And when Blake and Dundas identified the writing, and O'Sullivan, the duke's own secretary, declared that not only would he be willing to swear to his belief of the duke's hand, but to the spirit of the document as well, I put my head on the back of Danvers's chair to hide the tears which rolled down my cheeks, tears of relief, but springing from a very different cause than the one attributed for them.

There was more summing up and going back and forth, but the tension of the trial was over for all except me and one other — one wide-eyed little creature, sitting in her black gown, with Dickenson beside her, on the other side of the court-room; a slender girlish figure before whom my soul was on its knees.

I imagined her work, after she asked me to pray for her, upon that awful night. I thought of fifty things on the second, as it seemed. Visions came to me of Nancy dipping her head in the basin of water, Nancy by the mail-bag in the early dawning before the officers had come, and to that "Nancy made it just like Jock's," there came, with terror to my soul, another jumble of words — "Accessory after the fact."

I knew that the jury consulted but a few minutes before the whole of Edinburgh was shaking hands with Danvers, assuring him of their never-shaken trust in his innocence, saw Pitcairn putting his papers into the black-leather case, was conscious that Billy Deuceace was laughing as he talked to some women, with his hand on Danvers's shoulder. I say that I was aware of these things, but so remotely that they seemed part of a dream, for my real thought was to get to Nancy, to take her away, to shield her from I know not what; and leaving the Carmichael party, I made my way to the place where she was awaiting the carriage.

As we stood together near the doorway, Sandy and Danvers, with their friends, passed us on their way from the court-room, and my heart bled as I saw the look Nancy gave them, the look of pleading and affection, which Sandy avoided by talking to the one beside him; but Danvers, and none could blame him, considering his belief that she had done her utmost to get him hanged, looked full at her, his eyes showing scorn of her. I felt the slight body quiver, saw her sway back and forth for a little, and then, with a sob like a wounded child, she lost consciousness entirely. Hugh Pitcairn stayed by her until she was enough recovered for me to put her in the coach, and rode back to Stair with us, watching her all the time with an expression of alarm and tenderness, which drew him very near to me.

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