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Файл:The Ways of The Hour
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CHAPTER XV
“Are those her ribs through which the sun
Did peer, as through a grate;
And is that woman all her crew?
Is that a Death, and are there two?
Is Death that woman’s mate.”
The Phantom Ship.
After a short preparatory interview with Anna Updyke,
Dunscomb repaired to the gaol, whither he had already despatched a note to announce his intended visit. Good Mrs. Gott
received him with earnest attention; for, as the day of trial approached, this kind – hearted woman manifested a warmer
and warmer interest in the fate of her prisoner.
“You are welcome, Mr. Dunscomb,” said this well – disposed and gentle turnkey, as she led the way to the door that
opened on the gallery of the gaol; “and welcome, again and
again. I do wish this business may fall into good hands; and I’m
afraid Timms is not getting on with it as well as he might.”
“My associate has the reputation of being a skilful attorney
and a good manager, Mrs. Gott.”
“So he has, Mr. Dunscomb; but somehow I scarce know how
myself but somehow, he doesn’t get along with this cause, as
well as I have known him to get along with others. The excite-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
ment in the county is terrible; and Gott has had seven anonymous letters to let him know that if Mary Monson escape, his
hopes from the public are gone for ever. I tell him not to mind
such contemptible things; but he is frightened half out of his
wits. It takes good courage, ‘Squire, to treat an anonymous letter with the contempt it merits.”
“It sometimes does, indeed. Then you think we shall have
up – hill work with the defence?” “Dreadful! I’ve never known
a cause so generally tried out of doors as this. What makes the
matter more provoking, Mary Monson might have had it all
her own way, if she had been so minded; for, at first, she was
popularity itself with all the neighbours. Folks nat’rally like
beauty, and elegance, and youth; and Mary has enough of each
to make friends anywhere.”
“What! with the ladies?” said Dunscomb, smiling. “Surely
not with your sex, Mrs. Gott?”
“Yes, with the women, as well as with the men, if she would
only use her means; but she stands in her own light. Crowds
have been round the outer windows to hear her play on the
harp they tell me she uses the real Jew’s Harp, ‘Squire Dunscomb; such as Royal David used to play on; and that she has
great skill. There is a German in the village who knows all
about music, and he says Mary Monson has been excellently
taught by the very best masters.”
“It is extraordinary; yet it would seem to be so. Will you
have the goodness to open the door, Mrs. Gott?” “With all
my heart,” answered this, in one sense, very singular turnkey,
though in another a very every – day character, jingling her
keys, but not taking a forward step to comply; “Mary Monson
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
expects you. I suppose, sir, you know that saucy Frank Williams is retained by the friends of the Goodwins?”
“Mr. Timms has told me as much as that. I cannot say, however, that I have any particular apprehension of encountering
Mr. Williams.”
“No, sir; not you, I’ll engage, not in open court; but out of
doors he’s very formidable.”
“I trust this cause, one involving the life and reputation of
a very interesting female, will not be tried out of doors, Mrs.
Gott. The issue is too serious for such a tribunal.”
“So a body would think; but a great deal of law – business
is settled, they tell me, under the sheds, and in the streets, and
in the taverns; most especially in the juror’s bed – rooms, and
settled in a way it ought not to be.”
“I am afraid you are nearer right than every just – minded
person could wish. But we will talk of this another time the
door if you please, now.”
“Yes, sir, in one minute. It would be so easy for Mary Monson to be just as popular with everybody in Biberry as she is
with me. Let her come to one of the side – windows of the
gallery this evening, and show herself to the folks, and play
on that harp of her’s, and Royal David himself could not have
been better liked by the Jews of old, than she would soon be by
our people hereabouts.”
“It is probably now too late. The court sits in a few days;
and the mischief, if any there be, must be done.”
“No such thing, begging your pardon, ‘Squire. There’s that
in Mary Monson that can carry anything she pleases. Folks now
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think her proud and consequential, because she will not just
stand at one of the grates and let them look at her a little.”
“I am afraid, Mrs. Gott, your husband has taught you a
greater respect for those you call `the people,’ than they deserve to receive at your hands.”
“Gott is dreadfully afraid of them”
“And he is set apart by the laws to see them executed on
these very people,” interrupted Dunscomb, with a sneer; “to
levy on their possessions, keep the peace, enforce the laws; in
short, to make them feel, whenever it is necessary, that they
are governed!”
“Gott says `that the people will rule.’ That’s his great saying.”
“Will seem to rule, is true enough; but the most that the
mass of any nation can do, is occasionally to check the proceedings of their governors. The every – day work is most effectually done by a favoured few here, just as it is done by a
favoured few everywhere else. The door, now, if you please, my
good Mrs. Gott.”
“Yes, sir, in one minute. Dear me! how odd that you should
think so. Why, I thought that you were a democrat, Mr. Dunscomb?”
“So I am, as between forms of government; but I never was
fool enough to think that the people can really rule, further
than by occasional checks and rebukes.”
“What would Gott say to this! Why, he is so much afraid of
the people, that he tells me he never does anything, without
faneying some one is looking over his shoulders.”
“Ay, that is a very good rule for a man who wishes to be
chosen sheriff. To be a bishop, it would be better to remember
the omniscient eye.”
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
“I do declare oh! Gott never thinks of that, more’s the
pity,” applying the key to the lock. “When you wish to come
out, ‘Squire, just call at this grate”then dropping her voice to
a whisper”try and persuade Mary Monson to show herself at
one of the side grates.”
But Dunscomb entered the gallery with no such intention. As he was expected, his reception was natural and easy.
The prisoner was carefully though simply dressed, and she appeared all the better, most probably, for some of the practised
arts of her woman. Marie Moulin, herself, kept modestly within the cell, where, indeed, she passed most of her time, leaving
the now quite handsomely furnished gallery to the uses of her
mistress.
After the first few words of salutation, Dunscomb took the
chair he was invited to occupy, a good deal at a loss how to
address a woman of his companion’s mien and general air as a
culprit about to be tried for her life. He first attempted words
of course.
“I see you have had a proper regard to your comforts in this
miserable place,” he remarked.
“Do not call it by so forbidding a name, Mr. Dunscomb,”
was the answer, given with a sorrowful, but exceedingly winning smile”it is my place of refuge.”
“Do you still persist in refusing to tell me against what,
Miss Monson?”
“I persist in nothing that ought not to be done, I hope. At
another time I may be more communicative. But, if what Mrs.
Gott tells me is correct, I need these walls to prevent my being
torn to pieces by those she calls the people, outside.”
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Dunscomb looked with amazement at the being who quietly made this remark on her own situation. Of beautiful form,
with all the signs of a gentle origin and refined education,
young, handsome, delicate, nay, dainty of speech and acts, there
she sat, indicted for arson and murder, and about to be tried
for her life, with the composure of a lady in her drawing –
room! The illuminated expression that, at times, rendered her
countenance so very remarkable, had now given place to one
of sobered sadness; though apprehension did not appear to be
in the least predominant.
“The sheriff has instilled into his wife a very healthful
respect for those she calls the people healthful, for one who
looks to their voices for his support. This is very American.”
“I suppose it to be much the same everywhere. I have been
a good deal abroad, Mr. Dunscomb, and cannot say I perceive
any great difference in men.”
“Nor is there any, though circumstances cause different
modes of betraying their weaknesses, as well as what there is
in them that is good. But the people in this country, Miss Monson, possess a power that, in your case, is not to be despised.
As Mrs. Gott would intimate, it may be prudent for you to remember that.”
“Surely you would not have me make an exhibition of myself, Mr. Dunscomb, at the window of a gaol!”
“As far from that as possible. I would have you do nothing
that is unbecoming one of your habits and opinions nothing,
in short, that would be improper, as a means of defence, by one
accused and tried by the State. Nevertheless, it is always wiser
to make friends than to make enemies.”
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
Mary Monson lowered her eyes to the carpet, and Dunscomb perceived that her thoughts wandered. They were not
on her critical situation. It was indispensably necessary, however, that he should be explicit, and he did not shrink from his
duty. Gently, but distinctly, and with a clearness that a far less
gifted mind than that of the accused could comprehend, he
now opened the subject of the approaching trial. A few words
were first ventured on its grave character, and on the vast importance it was in all respects to his client; to which the latter listened attentively, but without the slightest visible alarm.
Next, he alluded to the stories that were in circulation, the impression they were producing, and the danger there was that
her rights might be affected by these sinister opinions.
“But I am to be tried by a judge and a jury, they tell me,”
said Mary Monson, when Dunscomb ceased speaking “they
will come from a distance, and will not be prejudiced against
me by all this idle gossip.”
“Judges and jurors are only men, and nothing goes farther
with less effort than your `idle gossip.’ Nothing is repeated accurately, or it is very rare to find it so; and those who only half
comprehend a subject are certain to relate with exaggerations
and false colourings.”
“How, then, can the electors discover the real characters
of those for whom they are required to vote?” demanded Mary
Monson, smiling; “or get just ideas of the measures they are to
support or to oppose?”
“Half the time they do neither. It exceeds all our present
means, at least, to diffuse sufficient information for that. The
consequence is, that appearances and assertions are made to
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
take the place of facts. The mental food of the bulk of this nation is an opinion simulated by the artful to answer their own
purposes. But the power of the masses is getting to be very
formidable more formidable in a way never contemplated by
those who formed the institutions, than in any way that was
foreseen. Among other things, they begin to hold the administration of justice in the hollow of their hands.”
“I am not to be tried by the masses, I trust. If so, my fate
would be very hard, I fear, judging from what I hear in my
little excursions in the neighbourhood.”
“Excursions, Miss Monson!” repeated the astonished Dunscomb.
“Excursions, sir; I make one for the benefit of air and exercise, every favourable night, at this fine season of the year.
Surely you would not have me cooped up here in a gaol, without the relief of a little fresh air?”
“With the knowledge and concurrence of the sheriff, or
that of his wife?”
“Perhaps not strictly with those of either; though I suspect
good Mrs. Gott has an inkling of my movements. It would be
too hard to deny myself air and exercise, both of which are
very necessary to my health, because I am charged with these
horrid crimes.”
Dunscomb passed a hand over his brow, as if he desired to
clear his mental vision by friction of the physical, and, for a
moment, sat absolutely lost in wonder. He scarce knew whether he was or was not dreaming.
“And you have actually been outside of these walls, Miss
Monson!” he exclaimed, at length.
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
“Twenty times, at least. Why should I stay within them,
when the means of quitting them are always in my power?”
As Mary Monson said this, she showed her counsel a set
of keys that corresponded closely with those which good Mrs.
Gott was in the habit of using whenever she came to open the
door of that particular gallery. A quiet smile betrayed how little the prisoner fancied there was anything remarkable in all
this.
“Are you aware, Miss Monson, it is felony to assist a prisoner to escape?”
“So they tell me, Mr. Dunscomb; but as I have not escaped,
or made any attempt to escape, and have returned regularly
and in good season to my gaol, no one can be harmed for what
I have done. Such, at least, is the opinion of Mr. Timms.”
Dunscomb did not like the expression of face that accompanied this speech. It might be too much to say it was absolutely cunning; but there was so much of the manoeuvring of
one accustomed to manage in it, that it awakened the unpleasant distrust that existed in the earlier days of his intercourse
with this singular young woman, and which had now been
dormant for several weeks. There was, however, so much of the
cold polish of the upper classes in his client’s manner, that the
offending expression was thrown off from the surface of her
looks, as light is reflected from the ground and silvered mirror. At the very instant which succeeded this seeming gleam
of cunning, all was clam, quiet, refined, gentle, and without
apparent emotion in the countenance of the accused.
“Timms!” repeated Dunscomb, slowly. “So he has known of
this, and I dare say has had an agency in bringing it about?”
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
“As you say it is felony to aid a prisoner to escape, I can say
neither yes nor no to this, Mr. Dunscomb, lest I betray an accomplice. I should rather think, however, that Mr. Timms is
not a person to be easily caught in the meshes of the law.”
Again the counsellor disliked the expression; though Mary
Monson looked unusually pretty at that particular moment.
He did not pause to analyze his feelings, notwithstanding, but
rather sought to relieve his own curiosity, which had been a
good deal aroused by the information just received.
“As you have not hesitated to tell me of what you call your
`excursions,’ Miss Monson,” he continued, “perhaps you will
so far extend your confidence as to let me know where you
go?”
“I can have no objection to that. Mr. Timms tells me the law
cannot compel a counsel to betray his client’s secrets; and of
course I am safe with you. Stop I have a duty to perform that
has been too long delayed. Gentlemen of your profession are
entitled to their fees; and, as yet, I have been very remiss in this
respect. Will you do me the favour, Mr. Dunscomb, to accept
that, which you will see has been some time in readiness to be
offered.”
Dunscomb was too much of a professional man to feel any
embarrassment at this act of justice; but he took the letter,
broke the seal, even before his client’s eyes, and held up for
examination a note for a thousand dollars. Prepared as he was
by Timms’s account for a liberal reward, this large sum took
him a good deal by surprise.
“This is an unusual fee, Miss Monson!” he exclaimed; “one
much more considerable than I should expect from you, were
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