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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
of liberty in these parts. I’m afraid that not only this Joe Davis, but the reporters, will say just what they please; and Mary
Monson’s rights will whistle for it. You will remember that our
judge is not only a bran – new one, but he drew the two years’
term into the bargain. No, I think it will be wisest to let the
law, and old principles, and the right, and true liberty, quite
alone; and to bow the knee to things as they are. A good deal is
said about our fathers, and their wisdom, and patriotism, and
sacrifices; but nobody dreams of doing as they did , or of reasoning as they reasoned. Life is made up, in reality, of these
little matters in a corner; while the great principles strut about
in buckram, for men to admire them, and talk about them. I do
take considerable delight, ‘Squire Dunscomb, in hearing you
enlarge on a principle, whether it be in law, morals, or politics;
but I should no more think of practysing on ‘em, than I should
think of refusing a thousand dollar fee.”
“Is that your price?” demanded McBrain, with curiosity
“Do you work for as large a sum as that, in this case, Timms?”
“I’m paid, Doctor; just as you was” the attorney never stuck
at grammar”just as you was for that great operation on the
Wall – Street Millenary’ian”
“Millionaire, you mean, Timms,” said Dunscomb, colly “it
means one worth a million.”
“I never attempt a foreign tongue but I stumble,” said the
attorney, simply; for he knew that both his friends were familiar with his origin, education, and advancement in life, and
that it was wisest to deny nothing to them; “but since I have
been so much with Mary Monson and her woman, I do own a
desire to speak the language they use.”
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Again Dunscomb regarded his associate intently; something comical gleaming in his eye. “Timms, you have fallen in
love with our handsome client,” he quietly remarked. “No, sir;
not quite as bad as that, yet; though I will acknowledge that
the lady is very interesting. Should she be acquitted, and could
we only get some knowledge of her early history why, that
might put a new face on matters.”
“I must drive over to Biberry in the morning, and have another interview with the lady myself. And now, Ned, I will join
your wife, and read an epithalamium prepared for this great
occasion. You need not trouble yourself to follow, the song
being no novelty; for I have read it twice before on your account.”
A hearty laugh at his own wit concluded the discourse on
the part of the great York counsellor; though Timms remained
some time longer with the Doctor, questioning the latter
touching opinions and facts gleaned by the physician in the
course of his circuit.
262
CHAPTER XIV
“From his brimstone bed at break of day,
A walking the devil is gone,
To visit his little snug farm of the earth,
And see how his stock went on.”
Coleridge.
Dunscomb was as good as his word. Next morning he was
on his way to Biberry. He was thoughtful; had laid a bundle
of papers on the front seat of the carriage, and went his way
musing and silent. Singularly enough, his only companion was
Anna Updyke, who had asked a seat in the carriage timidly,
but with an earnestness that prevailed. Had Jack Wilmeter
been at Biberry, this request would not have been made; but
she knew he was in town, and that she might make the little
excursion without the imputation of indelicacy, so far as he
was concerned. Her object will appear in the course of the narrative.
The “best tavern” in Biberry was kept by Daniel Horton.
The wife of this good man had a native propensity to talk that
had been essentially cultivated in the course of five – and –
twenty years’ practice in the inn where she had commenced
her career as maid; and was now finishing it as mistress. As
is common with persons of her class, she knew hundreds of
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
those who frequented her house; calling each readily by name,
and treating every one with a certain degree of professional
familiarity that is far from uncommon in country inns.
“Mr. Dunscomb, I declare!” cried this woman, as she entered
the room, and found the counsellor and his companion in possession of her best parlour. “This is a pleasure I did not expect
until the circuit. It’s quite twenty years, ‘Squire, since I had the
pleasure of first waiting on you in this house. And a pleasure it
has always been; for I’ve not forgotten the ejectment suit that
you carried for Horton when we was only new – beginners.
I am glad to see you, sir; welcome to Biberry, as is this young
lady, who is your daughter, I presume, Mr. Dunscomb?”
“You forget that I am a bachelor, Mrs. Horton no marrying
man, in any sense of the word.”
“I might have known that, had I reflected a moment; for
they say Mary Monson employs none but bachelors and widowers in her case; and you are her counsel, I know.”
“This is a peculiarity of which I was not aware. Timms is
a bachelor, certainly, as well as myself; but to whom else can
you allude? Jack Wilmeter, my nephew, can hardly be said to
be employed at all; nor, for that matter, Michael Millington;
though neither is married.”
“Yes, sir; we know both of the last well, they having lodged
with us. If young Mr. Wilmeter is single, I fancy it is not his
own fault” here Mrs. Horton looked very wise, but continued
talking “Young gentlemen of a good appearance and handsome fortunes commonly have not much difficulty in getting
wives not as much as young ladies; for you men make the law,
and you give your own sex the best chance, almost as a matter
of course”
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
“Pardon me, Mrs. Horton,” interrupted Dunscomb, a little
formally, like one who felt great interest in the subject “you
were remarking that we have the best chance of getting married; and here have I been a bachelor all my life, trying in vain
to enter into the happy state of matrimony if, indeed, it deserve to be so termed.”
“It could not be very difficult for you to find a companion,”
said the landlady, shaking her head; “and for the reason I have
just given.”
“Which was?”
“That you men have made the laws and profit by them. You
can ask whom you please; but a woman is obliged to wait to be
asked.”
“You never were in a greater mistake in your life, I do assure you, my good Mrs. Horton. There is no such law on the
subject. Any woman may put the question, as well as any man.
This was the law, and I don’t think the Code has changed it.”
“Yes, I know that well enough, and get laughed at, and
pointed at, for her pains. I know that a good deal is said about
leap – year; but who ever heard of a woman’s putting the question? I fancy that even Mary Monson would think twice before
she took so bold a step once.”
“Mary Monson!” exclaimed Dunscomb, suddenly turning
towards his hostess “Has she a reputation for being attentive
to gentlemen?”
“Not that I know of; but”
“Then allow me to say, my good Mrs. Horton,” interrupted
the celebrated counsellor, with a manner that was almost austere, “that you have been greatly to blame in hazarding the
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
sort of remark you did. If you know nothing of the character
you certainly insinuated, you should have said nothing. It is
very extraordinary that women, alive as they must be to the
consequences to one of their own sex, are ever more ready than
men to throw out careless, and frequently malicious hints, that
take away a reputation, and do a melancholy amount of harm
in the world. Slander is the least respectable, the most unchristian – like, and the most unlady – like vice, of all the secondary sins of your sex. One would think the danger you are all
exposed to in common, would teach you greater caution.”
“Yes, sir, that is true; but this Mary Monson is in such a
pickle already, that it is not easy to make her case much worse,”
answered Mrs. Horton, a good deal frightened at the austerity of Dunscomb’s rebuke; for his reputation was too high to
render his good or bad opinion a matter of indifference to
her. “If you only knew the half that is said of her in Duke’s,
you wouldn’t mind a careless word or so about her. Everybody
thinks her guilty; and a crime, more or less, can be of no great
matter to the likes of her.”
“Ah, Mrs. Horton, these careless words do a vast deal of
harm. They insinuate away a reputation in a breath; and my
experience has taught me that they who are the most apt to
use them, are persons whose own conduct will least bear the
light. Women with a whole log – heap of beams in their own
eyes, are remarkable for discovering motes. Give me the female
who floats along quietly in her sphere, unoffending and charitable, wishing for the best, and as difficult to be brought to
think as to do evil. But, they talk a good deal against my client,
do they?”
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
“More than I have ever known folks talk against any indicted person, man or woman. The prize – fighters, who were
in for murder, had a pretty hard time of it; but nothing to Mary
Monson’s. In short, until ‘Squire Timms came out in her favour, she had no chance at all.”
“This is not very encouraging, certainly but what is said,
Mrs. Horton, if you will suffer me to put the question?”
“Why, ‘Squire Dunscomb,” answered the woman, pursing
up a very pretty American mouth of her own, “a body is never
sure that you won’t call what she says slander”
“Pohpohyou know me better than that. I never meddle with
that vile class of suits. I am employed to defend Mary Monson,
you know”
“Yes, and are well paid for it too, ‘Squire Dunscomb, if all
that a body hears is true,” interrupted Mrs. Horton, a little
spitefully. “Five thousand dollars, they say, to a cent!”
Dunscomb, who was working literally without other reward than the consciousness of doing his duty, smiled, while
he frowned at this fresh instance of the absurdities into which
rumour can lead its votaries. Bowing a little apology, he coolly
lighted a segar, and proceeded.
“Where is it supposed that Mary Monson can find such
large sums to bestow, Mrs. Horton?” he quietly asked, when
his segar was properly lighted. “It is not usual for young and
friendless women to have pockets so well lined.”
“Nor is it usual for young women to rob and murder old
ones, ‘Squire.”
“Was Mrs. Goodwin’s stocking thought to be large enough
to hold sums like that you have mentioned?” “Nobody knows.
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Gold takes but little room, as witness Californy. There was
General Wilton every one thought him rich as Cæsar”
“Do you not mean Croesus, Mrs. Horton?”
“Well, Cæsar or Croesus; both were rich, I do suppose, and
General Wilton was thought the equal of either; but, when he
died, his estate wouldn’t pay his debts. On the other hand, old
Davy Davidson was set down by nobody at more than twenty
thousand, and he left ten times that much money. So I say nobody knows. Mrs. Goodwin was always a saving woman, though
Peter would make the dollars fly, if he could get at them. There
was certainly a weak spot in Peter, though known to but a very
few.”
Dunscomb now listened attentively. Every fact of this nature was of importance just then; and nothing could be said of
the murdered couple that would not induce all engaged in the
cause to prick up their ears.
“I have always understood that Peter Goodwin was a very
respectable sort of a man,” observed Dunscomb, with a profound knowledge of human nature, which was far more likely
to induce the woman to be communicative, in the way of opposition, than by any other process “as respectable a man as
any about here.”
“So he might be, but he had his weak points as well as other
respectable men; though, as I have said already, his’n wasn’t
generally known. Everybody is respectable, I suppose, until
they’re found out. But Peter is dead and gone, and I have no
wish to disturb his grave, which I believe to be a sinful act.”
This sounded still more ominously, and it greatly increased
Dunscomb’s desire to learn more. Still he saw that great cau-
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
tion must be used, Mrs. Horton choosing to affect much tenderness for her deceased neighbour’s character. The counsellor
knew human nature well enough to be aware that indifference
was sometimes as good a stimulant as opposition; and he now
thought it expedient to try the virtue of that quality. Without
making any immediate answer, therefore, he desired the attentive and anxious Anna Updyke to perform some little office
for him; thus managing to get her out of the room, while the
hostess stayed behind. Then his segar did not quite suit him,
and he tried another, making divers little delays that set the
landlady on the tenter – hooks of impatience.
“Yes, Peter is gone dead and buried and I hope the sod lies
lightly on his remains!” she said, sighing ostentatiously.
“Therein you are mistaken, Mrs. Horton,” the counsellor
coolly remarked”the remains of neither of those found in the
ruins of the house are under ground yet; but are kept for the
trial.”
“What a time we shall have of it! so exciting and full of
mystery!”
“And you might add `custom,’ Mrs. Horton. The reporters
alone, who will certainly come from town like an inroad of
Cossacks, will fill your house.”
“Yes, and themselves too. To be honest with you, ‘Squire
Dunscomb, too many of those gentry wish to be kept for nothing to make them pleasant boarders. I dare say, however, we
shall be full enough next week. I sometimes wish there was
no such thing as justice, after a hard – working Oyer and Terminer court.”
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
“You should be under no concern, my good Mrs. Horton,
on that subject. There is really so little of the thing you have
mentioned, that no reasonable woman need make herself
unhappy about it. So Peter Goodwin was a faultless man, was
he?”
“As far from it as possible, if the truth was said of him; and
seeing the man is not absolutely under ground, I do not know
why it may not be told. I can respect the grave, as well as another; but, as he is not buried, one may tell the truth. Peter
Goodwin was, by no means, the man he seemed to be.”
“In what particular did he fail, my good Mrs. Horton?”
To be good in Dunscomb’s eyes, the landlady well knew,
was a great honour; and she was flattered as much by the
manner in which the words were uttered, as by their import.
Woman – like, Mrs. Horton was overcome by this little bit
of homage; and she felt disposed to give up a secret which, to
do her justice, had been religiously kept now for some ten or
twelve years between herself and her husband. As she and the
counsel were alone, dropping her voice a little, more for the
sake of appearances than for any sufficient reason, the landlady proceeded.
“Why, you must know, ‘Squire Dunscomb, that Peter
Goodwin was a member of meetin’, and a professing Christian,
which I suppose was all the better for him, seeing that he was
to be murdered.”
“And do you consider his being a `professing Christian,’ as
you call it, a circumstance to be concealed?” “Not at all, sirbut
I consider it a good reason why the facts I am about to tell you,
ought not to be generally
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