CHAPTER XVI.
VALDIMIR DESPARDE’S EXAMINATION.
No change comes o’er his steadfast brow, Though ruin is around him; His eye-beam burns as proudly now As if the laurel crowned him. CHILD.
He, undismayed And calm, can meet his coming destiny In all its pleasing or appalling shapes. WATTS.
At the baron’s request, and, therefore, of course, at the baron’s expense, the Yockley constable had taken a whole compartment for the accommodation of his party on the train that left Miston Station for Miston Junction at 10:10 that morning.
At the Junction where they changed carriages for Yockley he had done the same thing on the same terms, thus securing privacy for his party, and protecting them from the glances and the comments of any fellow-passengers.
It was twelve o’clock when they reached the Yockley Station, where, to their great annoyance, they found a large crowd assembled.
Seeing the multitude, the constable sent the guard out alone to engage a close cab.
When this was done the party alighted quietly, entered the cab, and were driven off, unsuspected by the mob.
Meanwhile, the cab containing the party was driven rapidly towards the suburbs of the village and through a piece of woods to “Gatton’s Hope,” the seat of Joseph Gatton, Esq., one of the justices of the peace for the shire, and before whom the preliminary examination was to be held.
They drove up a winding avenue that led through the grass-grown and sparsely wooded park, and drew up before a substantial gray-stone house of three stories, with three rows of windows on the front and a broad pair of doors in the middle of lower front.
The constable and the guard alighted first, followed closely by Lord Beaudevere and Mr. Desparde.
The constable knocked and the door was immediately opened, and the whole party was at once admitted by a footman in waiting, who led them to a large room in the rear of the hall, known as the Justice Room, and furnished with oaken book-cases filled with law literature, stout oaken benches and chairs and a long table, placed crosswise at the farthest end, covered with green cloth and laden with law books, blank-books, and stationery of every description.
Behind this table, in three high-backed chairs, sat three men. The one in the middle was Squire Gatton, a tall, thin, florid-faced, red-haired, and red-bearded man, with a careworn but not unkind face.
On his right was a brother magistrate, Burke of Burkehurst, a typical, old-fashioned round-bodied, bull-necked, bullet-headed country squire.
Near them sat Coroner Locke, who had conducted the first inquest at the Tawny Lion Tavern.
Seated in chairs at some little distance in front of the table were the witnesses that had been summoned—Mrs. Bottom and her two daughters, who had first discovered the murder, and Dr. Lowe and his two assistants, who had made the _post-mortem_ examination.
Waiting about the room were several bailiffs.
The constable, walking in advance of his party, handed the warrant to Mr. Gatton with a bow, and announced the prisoner in a low tone, and then fell back among the other officers in waiting.
Squire Gatton raised his eyes, and seeing Lord Beaudevere, with whom he had some slight acquaintance, standing by the prisoner, and knowing his relationship to Valdimir Desparde, colored with sympathetic shame as he arose and held out his hand across the table, saying:
“How do you do, my lord? I cannot say that I am glad to see your lordship here. I am extremely sorry. This is a most painful affair.”
“It _would_ be ‘a most painful affair’ if it were not so exquisitely absurd! The idea of Mr. Valdimir Desparde being arrested upon such a charge, under any possible circumstances, is so very preposterous that even the fact that he has but just landed on the shores of England, after a nearly seven months’ absence, can add nothing to its outrageous absurdity!” said the baron, in a tone of sarcasm, slightly dashed with indignation, as he took the offered hand of the magistrate and dropped it again.
“I hope it will turn out to have been a mistake, my lord,” replied the latter, and he bowed now in return to the bow of Mr. Desparde.
“You ‘_hope_?’ Why, you must know it will! But let me ask one favor of you, Mr. Gatton: that you will proceed with the case at once and get through with it as quickly as possible. Mr. Desparde, as I had the honor of telling you before, has just returned from abroad and has not as yet had the opportunity of seeing any of his relatives or friends except myself. He is naturally anxious to greet his sister, and also—_hem!_—
‘A nearer one yet and a dearer one.’
Consider that, Mr. Gatton, and let us off as soon as you can,” said the baron, lightly.
“I will do so, Lord Beaudevere. Pray be seated,” replied the magistrate.
The baron and his young cousin sat down in chairs pointed out by a bailiff.
The magistrate immediately took up the warrant, glanced over it, and said:
“Mr. Valdimir Desparde.”
The young gentleman arose and walked up to the table.
“You are herein charged with having, on the night of Wednesday, December the fifteenth, in a compartment of a railway carriage on the London and Northwestern Railway, assaulted and killed one Christelle Ken, a young woman of Miston, by stabbing her through the heart with some sharp-pointed instrument. What have you to say to this charge?”
“Why, that it is utterly false and ridiculous. I do not even know the girl in question, and could have no reason whatever for wishing to injure her,” replied Valdimir Desparde, with a slight smile, for notwithstanding the gravity of the surroundings he could not help feeling as if that terrible charge made against himself was really too monstrous in its absurdity to merit a serious response.
“I hope that you maybe able to disprove the charge, sir. I do, with all my soul,” said the magistrate, solemnly.
“Oh, bring on your witnesses, Mr. Gatton, and let us have this farce over,” said Lord Beaudevere, impatiently.
The magistrate bowed, and signalled his cleric, who called out:
“Thomas Potter!”
The railway guard left his seat and came and stood before the table.
The guard gave the same astounding evidence that he furnished to the coroner’s jury. The guard was followed by the Bottoms, who, in turn, were succeeded by the man who had identified the body.
The evidence of the pencil with the initials V. D. was also exploited.
This closed the evidence against the accused.
Then the magistrate turning towards the prisoner, said, very gravely:
“Mr. Desparde, you have heard the testimony upon which you have been charged with the murder of the young woman, one Christelle Ken. What have you now to show in rebuttal of this testimony?”
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]