Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 196: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ELLEN PERCY; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. Bailey—and when we alighted from the carriage and inquired our way to the gallery of the court we were at first assured that it would be impossible for us to find room, for it was already so much crowded. However, by dint of feeing the officials, we succeeded in obtaining seatsin the gallery, which as well as every other part Of the court, was exces- sively thronged. The proceedings were just com- mencing : the Judges had taken their seats—the Jury were being sworn. The prisoner was not as yet in the dock. I accordingly had leisure to glance around; and I caught a glimpse of the Right Honourable Edwin St. Clair, in the body of the court. I saw two or three persons in the neighbourhood of where I was sitting pointing out St, Clair to their neighbours: and one of those individuals said, ‘It is only natural that he should come to hear sentence of death pronounced upon the wretch who was the cause of his wife’s death.’ —It struck me that St. Clair was exceedingly pale: and I observed that he kept looking all around as if to ascertain who were present. But at the time little did I suspect why he was so un- easy! Presently the prisoner was introduced into the dock o * And what was his demeanour, Beatrice P” I inquired. “Tt seemed firm and collected—but mournful —deeply mournful,” answered Beatrice, speaking slowly as if she had to search for words in order to express her meaning adequately, “ But I could not obtain a very good view of his counte- nance,’ she continued, speaking more quickly ; “for where I sat in the gallery, his back was for the most part turned towards me asl looked down into the dock.” “ And the proceedings quickly*commenced ?” I said inguiringly. “ Bat Ab! I forgot to ask—was the Italian Catholic priest present P” * Yes—no—Il am not sure,” responded Beatrice, with what seemed for an instant to be a slight degree of confusion: but I quickly forgot the little incident in the excitement of the narrative on which she forthwith entered. “The Clork of the Court,” she hastily went on to say, “read the deposition of the prisoner’s confession made at the police court three weeks ago——. ” “The confession of both crimes do you mean P” I asked. No,” replied Beatrice,—* only the confession in respect to the fearful seene upon the Dover cliffs ; and when the Clerk had finished reading, he asked whether the prisoner purposed to plead Guilty likewise in the presence of that tribunal? He answered in a firm voice that he did. There was some little conversation carried on in a whisper between the Judges; and then they were about to put on the black caps, when a shrill screaming voice yelled out, ‘Is there not to be any inquiry into the other matter ??>— All was astonishment and excitement in the court ; and the Clerk cried, ‘Silence, woman !’—TI looked, and I saw an aged female, tolerably decently dressed, leaning upon a stick, making her way through the crowd; and then the next moment I bebeld Mr. St. Clair en- deavouring to force a still more rapid evit, At the moment I had not the slightest idea that there could be any connexion between the two incidents,—I mean the presence of the old woman and the attempted retreat of St. Clair: but the = me ——— ———_- -—- - Sr - ' next instant an announcement was made which electrified the whole court.” * An announcement by that old gipsy P” I anx- iously asked. “Yes,” responded Beatrice: “for forth from her lips pealed the screaming, shrieking words—‘ Seize upon St. Clair! arrest him! he was the murderer of his own wife!’—Of course everybody fancied that it was some unfortunate madwoman who had found her way into the court; and a couple of constables had already seized upon her, when she yelled out, *‘Unhand me, or I shall serve you as St. Clair served my grand-daughter, his unfortunate wife! This flower is poisoned!’ she vociferated, at the same time producing from a small rosewood box something that looked like a faded white rose. You cannot conceive, my dear Ellen, how acute was the suspense displayed by every fixed look and by every suspended breath throughout that hall of justice; and all that I am telling you passed with an exceeding rapidity. The police constables fell back at the terrible announcement of the flower being poisoned; the crowd opened likewise, recoil- ing in alarm: and the hag made her way straight to the barristers’ table. Even the learned gentle- men themselves seemed to dislike the contiguity of the hag with the flower which she had an- nounced to be poisoned: for they shrank back from her presence. ‘Ah! I see that you do not doubt it!’ ejaculated the dame: ‘ but still you shall have proof!’ ” “Proof? What in the court?” I exclaimed. ‘What proof could she give ?” “You shall learn. All in a moment,” continued Beatrice, “she took from a basket which she car- ried beneath her shawl, a couple of small rabbits, which she tossed quickly one after another upon the table. Then, quick as the eye can wink, she thrust the faded white rose at each rabbit— and ejaculations of mingled surprise and horror burst from the lips of the nearest bystanders, for the little animals at once turned over on their backs, stiffened quickly, and were dead. It was the work of a moment !—death was in the white rose!—that was clear enough! But I cannot explain the effect of this strange spectacle, which became absolutely appalling when associated with the terrific charge which had pealed forth from the woman’s lips against Mr, St. Clair. And that effect was most powerfully enhanced when the woman shrieked forth, ‘This was how his wife died !’—and then she pointed with her long lank finger towards St. Clair, exclaiming, ‘ Why did he want to fly when he saw me enter the court ?— Yes, it was astounding !” “The scens mnst have indeed proved most fear- fully interesting,” I said. “But what prevented St. Clair from escaping ?” “T looked to ascertain that point,” responded Beatrice; “and I perceived that three or four stalwart-looking gipsy men had their hands upon his arms, while he was endeavouring to assume a look of scornful contempt for the accusation levelled against him. Then the old gipsy-woman again raised her voice, screaming forth, ‘ I have my witnesses! Here is a girl who can prove that this box was until last night in the possession of her master St. Clair!—and here is the deceased Mrs. St. Clair’s confidential maid who can prove that when her mistress died the faded white rose JOO SS (E©) im