The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-09-15
THE MASTER OF THE MINES !
BY ROBERT BUCHANAN.
looNTisuED FROM OUR LAST IssuK,I
CHAPTER XIII.
Tile TRIAL.


diam, or to pile up the agony in the manner
OF the expert manufacturer of sensational
fiction; though, if | chose to do so, there is
plenty of material ready to my hand. have
my doubts, perhaps, whether | am PERSONAL
ly interesting enough TO sway the sympathy
of the tender-hearted, in the character of a
man njustly accused of the most horrible of
human crimes But the mere fact that sur.
yiye to write these lines is proof positive OF
one thing-that / was not hangedl So, on
that score at least, the reader may be per.
fectly easy in his mind.
The assIZes came on some six weeks after
the date Of the inquest, and in the interim
found that my darling did not fail to keep
her word. A firm OF solicitors, instructed by
her, undertook my defense; and though at
first, out OF motives of pride, declined theiI
good offices, was finally persuaded TO ac
cept them. Through their managing clerk
more than once received kindly messages
from Madeline; but not once did she appear
upon the scene personally until the day of
the trial came, when, on entering the dock,
saw her sitting BIZ George Redruth's side in
the crowded court.
My aunt and uncle were there, too-the
latter so worn and changed that | should
scarcely have recognized him; so was honest
and acquaintances. But before the trial be-
gan, all those who We're called as witnesses
withdrew, George Redruth among the num-
Der. My darling remained III her place, close
to my counsel and solicitors, in the well be-
meath the judges seat; and more than once,
in the course of the proceedings, saw her
whisper words of instruction and suggestion
TO my defenders.
Thinking it all over again now, in the quiet
of these after-years. am sure still, as was
sure then, that her face helped to save me.
Its pathetic beauty and sympathy, l believe,
touched the heart of the jury, and wrought
wonders in my behalf. Even the judge, who
mad what is known as a hanging" reputa-
ton, looked down upon her with eyes of ia
Yor
Early in the course of the proceedings,
heard whispers among the crowd surround
ing me. They were looking at Madeline,
and some one was asking who she might be.
A voice replied (how well | remember it,
and how my pale face went red with proud
surprise) that she was 1.-The prisoners sweet
heart" Far away as | knew that idea to be
from the simple truth, l looked at my dar-
ling with new feelings of love and gratitude,
and almost forgot for moment the great
and impossible barrier between us.
After the speech for the prosecution, in
which | was painted in vivid colors as a
young man of violent habits, having homi-
cidal hatred to the murdered man, the first
witnesses deposed to the finding of the body
and to the marks of violence upon it. Then
George Redruth described my last quarrel
with johnson, and my dismissal from the
oyerseerShlp of the mine. On this occasion,
l fear, Redruth rather exaggerated than un-
der-estimated the extent of my hostility !;
and when asked if he personally thought
that the deceased had any reason to fear my
violence hesitated and answered that "he
was afraid he had'' l saw Madeline start
and look appealingly at the witness, while a
low murmur ran through the court On the
whole, Redruths evidence, though given
with a certain reluctance. was very hostile
could not help feeling that it was none the
less so because Madeline was seated there
with my defenders, and working so jealous
ly on my behalf.
My aunt next described my doings on the
night of my departure from st. Gurlott's and
again admitted, as at the inquest, that l had
been at late hour in the neighborhood of
the mine. Then my uncle entered the box
CHASTITY and woe-begone, clad in his Sabbath
clothes of black, he stood like man dazed !;
not once turning his eyes in my direction.
His evidence only corroborated that of my
aunt; but unimportant as it was, he gave it
with extreme reluctance,
After the prosecuting counsel was done
with him, he was questioned by my own
counsel, as follows:
''On the night of the murder you were at
home with the prisoner
''ISs, sir"
Did you see him go out?"
Il diSremember. L took nav note OFT; and
ma memory's failing me-"
"Ah; you have been i'll for some time"'
''Nawt just myself like, sir"
Had you any reason to imagine that the
| prisoner bore any anlmOSity to deceased?
| Did he ever in your hearing utter any threats
| against him?"
Never, sir; nawt one ward"
80 far as you know, he had no cause TO
| dislike deceased, beyond the fact that he had
| taken his place as oyerseer?
| | saw my uncle trembling violently; but
his answer came clear and firm:
"Nawt as knaws on, sir; and L knaw
| this, he ne'er meant to harm 'un."
| ''On the night in question did the prisoner
show any agitation
Nav, sir; tho he were bit put out at
| gawing AVA fro home"
Did he show onshis person any signs OF
violence, as of a struggle?'
Nav, sir; nawt he.'
THAT will do. You may stand down."
/ Still carefully ayerting his eyes from mine,
my uncle left the box.
All that could be said was said in my de-
fense. My witnesses to character included
| John Rudd and other local worthless; but all
this testimony would have been of little
avail without that which followed. TO my
| intense surprise Madeline herself entered
the box as witness on my side; and though
what she had to say. was practically irrele
want, though it concerned chiefly my saving
of her life from shipwreek, it worked won
ders for me. Never shall forget the thrill
of joy that went through me as she said, in
answer to question:
NO one who knows the prisoner believes
him capable of this or any crime. He is the
bravest and truest man have ever met"
Itwas at this point that the prosecuting
counsel rose, and said, very suayely:
Excuse me, Miss Grahani-but you have
great interest in the prisoner
"A very great interest" replied Madeline
looking him calmly in the face.
"A tender interest, perhaps? Am wront
in believing that there has been an engage
ment between your
u could have knocked the fellow down
Madeline went crimson, but recovering her
self in moment, steadily replied:
!. That is not true. My engagement witt
Mr. Trelawney is one of gratitude to tn
man who saved my life at the risk OF hi
own"
The counsel lost something by this passag
of arms, and gained much. Madeline's re
ply was greeted with the approval of the en-
tire court For myself. felt all my bein
flooded with a great joy. which carried IN
along in fearless mood till the end of tn
proceedings. After my darling's tender proc
lamation of her belief in my innocence.
. cared not what other man or woman in tn
| world might believe me guilty: or, indeed
what became of my life. / was justified i
, | her sight, that was enough.
After trial which lasted only the create
! part of one day, the judge summed up
! sternly enough, l thought-and the jury II
j tired to consider their verdict Now, for tn
first time during the proceedings, realize
,, my position. My life hung in the balancs
and few minutes would decide whether
7 was to live or die
The Jury returned into the box, and tn
: Judge also reappeared in his place. The fors
: man stood up, and replied. in answer to th
I clerk of the court 5 question whether l wa
| guilty or not guilty.
t ssWe are agreed that there is not sufficieI
: evidence to convict the prisoner"
!, THAT is no verdict at all. 2 cried the judg'
) sharply. You must decide one way or al
: other guilty or not guilty"
For moment the foreman seemed dub
I Gus, and, stopping TO his companions, spoil
: to them in a whisper. Then he said:
2 Not guilty, my LORD 2
{ was acquitted, but the manner of the a
auitfaI was cruel enough, leaving it cies
, that the moral presumption was against m
though the evidence was inadequate. di
u not quite realize this at the time, but ha
bitter cause to remember it afterward
2 A little later, was standing, free ma
in the parlor of a small inn. whittier hs
Q been led By John Rudd, and where four