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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
“In which case Mary Monson will have been tried for murder only,” returned Williams, smiling. “Do you really think,
Timms, that your heart is soft enough to receive and retain an
impression as deep as that made by the seal of the court?”
“If I thought, as you do, that my client is or has been connected with thieves, and burglars, and counterfeiters, I would
not think of her for a moment as a wife. But there is a vast
difference between a person overtaken by sudden temptation
and one who sins on calculation, and by regular habit. Now,
in my own case, I sometimes act wrong yes, I admit as much as
that”
“It is quite unnecessary,” said Williams, drily.
“It is not according to Christian doctrine to visit old offences on a sinner’s head, when repentance has washed away
the crime.”
“Which means, Timms, that you will marry Mary Monson,
although she may be guilty; provided always, that two very important contingencies are favourably disposed of.”
“What contingencies do you allude to, Williams? I know
of none.”
“One is, provided she will have you; the other is, provided
she is not hanged.”
“As to the first, I have no great apprehension; women that
have been once before a court, on a trial for a capital offence,
are not very particular. On my side, it will be easy enough to
persuade the public that, as counsel in a most interesting case,
I became intimately acquainted with her virtues, touched by
her misfortunes, captivated by her beauty and accomplishments, and finally overcome by her charms. I don’t think, Wil-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
liams, that such an explanation would fail of its effect, before
a caucus even. Men are always favourably disposed to those
they think worse off than they are themselves. A good deal of
capital is made on that principle.”
“I do not know that it would. Now – a – days the elections
generally turn more on public principles than on private conduct. The Americans are a most forgiving people, unless you
tell them the truth. That they will not pardon.”
“Nor any other nation, I fancy. Human natur’ revolts at it.
But that” snapping his fingers “for your elections; it
is the caucuses that I lay myself out to meet Give me the
nomination, and I am as certain of my seat as, in the old countries, a first – born is to his father’s throne.”
“It is pretty safe as a rule, I allow; but nominations sometimes fail.”
“Not when regular, and made on proper principles. A nomination is almost as good as popularity.”
“Often better; for men are just asses enough to work in the
collar of party, even when overloaded. But all this time the
night is wearing away. If I go into court in the morning, it will
be too late. This thing must be settled at once, and that in a
very explicit manner.”
“I wish I knew what you have picked up concerning Mary
Monson’s early life!” said Timms, like a man struggling with
doubt
“You have heard the rumour as well as myself. Some say
she is a wife already; while others think her a rich widow. My
opinion you know; I believe her to be the stool – pigeon of a
York gang, and no better than she should be.”
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
This was plain language to be addressed to a lover; and
Williams meant it to be so. He had that sort of regard for
Timms which proceeds from a community in practices, and
was disposed to regret that a man with whom he had been so
long connected, either as an associate or an antagonist, should
marry a woman of the pursuits that he firmly believed marked
the career of Mary Monson.
The gentlemen of the bar are no more to be judged by appearances than the rest of mankind. They will wrangle, and
seem to be at sword’s points with each other, at one moment;
when the next may find them pulling together in harmony in
the next case on the calendar. It was under this sort of feeling
that Williams had a species of friendship for his companion.
“I will try, Williams,” said the last, turning towards the
gaol. “Yes, I will make one more trial.”
“Do, my good fellow and, Timms remember one thing; you
can never marry a woman that has been hanged.”
453
CHAPTER XXIV
“The time is precious; I’ll about it straight.”
Earl of Essex.
The gaol presented a very different scene. A solemn stillness reigned in its gallery; and even good Mrs. Gott had become weary with the excitement of the day, and had retired
to rest. A single lamp was burning in the cell; and dark forms
were dimly visible in the passage, without the direct influence
of its rays. Two were seated, while a third paced the stone but
carpeted pavement, with a slow and quiet step. The first were
the shadowy forms of Anna Updyke and Marie Moulin; the
last, that of Mary Monson. For half an hour the prisoner had
been on her knees, praying for strength to endure a burthen
that surpassed her expectations; and, as is usual with those
who look above for aid, more especially women, she was reaping the benefit of her petition. Not a syllable had she uttered,
however, since quitting the cell. Her voice, soft, melodious, and
lady – like, was now heard for the first time.
“My situation is most extraordinary, Anna,” she said; “it
proves almost too much for my strength! This has been a terrible day, calm as I may have appeared; and I fear that the morrow will be still harder to be borne. There is an expression
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
about the eyes of that man, Williams, that both alarms and
disgusts me. I am to expect in him a most fiery foe.”
“Why, then, do you not escape from scenes for which you
are so unsuited, and leave this saucy Williams to himself, and
his schemes of plunder?”
“That would not do. Several sufficient reasons exist for remaining. Were I to avail myself of the use of the keys I possess,
and quit the gaol not to return, good Mrs. Gott and her husband would probably both be ruined. Although they are ignorant of what money and ingenuity have done for me, it would
be difficult to induce the world to believe them innocent. But
a still higher reason for remaining is the vindication of my
own character.”
“No one will think of confounding you with Mary Monson;
and by going abroad, as you say it is your intention to do, you
would effectually escape from even suspicion.”
“You little know the world, my dear. I see that all the useful lessons I gave you, as your school – mamma, are already
forgotten. The six years between us in age have given me an
experience that tells me to do nothing of the sort. Nothing is
so certain to follow us as a bad name; though the good one is
easily enough forgotten. As Mary Monson, I am indicted for
these grievous crimes; as Mary Monson will I be acquitted of
them. I feel an affection for the character, and shall not degrade it by any act as base as that of flight.”
“Why not, then, resort to the other means you possess, and
gain a speedy triumph in open court?”
As Anna put this question, Mary Monson came beneath
the light and stopped. Her handsome face was in full view, and
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
her friend saw an expression on it that gave her pain. It lasted
only a moment; but that moment was long enough to induce
Anna to wish she had not seen it. On several previous occasions this same expression had rendered her uneasy; but the
evil look was soon forgotten in the quiet elegance of manners
that borrowed charms from a countenance usually as soft as
the evening sky in September. Ere she resumed her walk, Mary
Monson shook her head in dissent from the proposition of
her friend, and passed on, a shadowy but graceful form, as she
went down the gallery.
“It would be premature,” she said, “and I should fail of my
object. I will not rob that excellent Mr. Dunscomb of his honest triumph. How calm and gentlemanlike he was to – day; yet
how firm and prompt, when it became necessary to show these
qualities.”
“Uncle Tom is all that is good; and we love him as we would
love a parent.”
A pause succeeded, during which Mary Monson walked
along the gallery once, in profound thought. “Yours promises
to be a happy future, my dear,” she said. “Of suitable ages, tempers, stations, country yes, country; for an American woman
should never marry a foreigner!”
Anna Updyke did not reply; and a silence succeeded that
was interrupted by the rattling of a key in the outer door. “It
is your new father, Anna, come to see you home. Thank you,
kind – hearted and most generous – minded girl. I feel the
sacrifices that you and your friend are making in my behalf,
and shall carry the recollection of them to the grave. On her, I
had no claims at all; and on you, but those that are very slight.
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
You have been to me, indeed, most excellent friends, and a
great support when both were most needed. Of my own sex,
and of the same social level, I do not now see how I should
have got on without you. Mrs. Gott is kindness and good – nature themselves; but she is so different from us in a thousand
things, that I have often been pained by it. In our intercourse
with you, how different! Knowing so much, you pry into nothing. Not a question, not a look to embarrass me; and with a
perfect and saint – like reliance on my innocence, were I a sister, your support could not be more warm – hearted or firm.”
After a short pause, in which this singular young woman
smiled, and appeared to be talking to herself, she continued,
after kissing her companion most affectionately for good –
night, and walking with her as far as the door of the gallery,
where it had been announced that the doctor was waiting for
his stepdaughter
“I wish I knew whether the same faith goes through the
connection Mr. John Wilmeter?”
“Oh! He is persuaded of your entire innocence. It was he
who excited so much interest in me, on your behalf, before I
had the least idea of our having ever met before.”
“He is a noble – hearted young man, and’has many excellent qualities a little romantic, but none the worse for that, my
dear, as you will find in the end. Alas! alas! Those marriages
that are made over a rent – roll, or an inventory, need a great
deal of something very different from what they possess, to
render them happy! Mr.
Wilmeter has told me that no evidence could make him
believe in my guilt. There is a confidence that might touch a
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
woman’s heart, Anna, did circumstances admit of such a thing.
I like that Michael Millington, too; the name is dear to me, as is
the race of which he comes. No matter; the world va son train,
let us regret and repine as we may. And Uncle Tom, Anna what
do you think of his real opinion? Is it in my favour or not?”
Anna Updyke had detected in Dunscomb a disposition to
doubt, and was naturally averse to communicating a fact so
unpleasant to her friend. Kissing the latter affectionately, she
hurried away to meet McBrain, already waiting for her without. In quitting the dwelling of the building annexed to the
gaol, the doctor and Anna met Timms hurrying forward to
seek an interview with his client before she retired to rest. An
application at once obtained permission for the limb of the
law to enter.
“I have come, Miss Mary,” as Timms now called his client,
“on what I fear will prove a useless errand; but which I have
thought it my duty to see performed, as your best friend, and
one of your legal advisers. You have already heard what I had
to say on the subject of a certain proposal of the next of kin
to withdraw from the prosecution, which will carry with him
this Williams, with whom I should think you would, by this
time, be heartily disgusted. I come now to say that this offer is
repeated with a good deal of emphasis, and that you have still
an opportunity of lessening the force that is pressing on your
interests, by at least one – half. Williams may well count for
more than half of the vigour and shrewdness of what is doing
for the State in your case.”
“The proposal must be more distinctly made, and you must
let me have a clear view of what is expected from me, Mr.
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
Timms, before I can give any reply,” said Mary Monson. “But
you may wish to be alone with me before you are more explicit.
I will order my woman to go into the cell.”
“It might be more prudent were we to go into the cell ourselves, and leave your domestic outside. These galleries carry
sounds like ear – trumpets; and we never know who may be
our next neighbour in a gaol.”
Mary Monson quietly assented to the proposal, calling to
her woman in French to remain outside, in the dark, while she
profited by the light of the lamp in the cell. Timms followed,
and closed the door.
In size, form, and materials, the cell of Mary Monson was
necessarily like that of every other inmate of the gaol. Its sides,
top and bottom, were of massive stones; the two last being
flags of great dimensions. But taste and money had converted
even this place into an apartment that was comfortable in all
respects but that of size. Two cells opening on the section of
gallery that the consideration of Mrs. Gott had caused to be
screened off, and appropriated to the exclusive use of the fair
prisoner, one had been furnished as a sleeping apartment,
while that in which Timms was now received had more the
air of a sort of boudoir. It was well carpeted, like all the rest of
what might be termed the suite; and had a variety of those little
elegancies that women of cultivated tastes and ample means
are almost certain to gather about them. The harp which had
occasioned so much scandal, as well as a guitar, stood near by;
and chairs of different forms and various degrees of comfort,
crowded the room, perhaps to superfluity. As this was the first
time Timms had been admitted to the cell, he was all eyes, gaz-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
ing about him at the numerous signs of wealth it contained,
with inward satisfaction. It was a minute after he was desired
to be seated before he could comply, so lively was the curiosity
to be appeased. It was during this minute that Marie Moulin
lighted four candles, that were already arranged in bronzed
candlesticks, making a blaze of light for that small room. These
candles were of spermaceti, the ordinary American substitute
for wax. Nothing that he then saw, or had ever seen in his intercourse with his client, so profoundly impressed Timms as
this luxury of light. Accustomed himself to read and write by a
couple of small inferior articles in tallow, when he did not use
a lamp, there seemed to be something regal to his unsophistieated imagination, in this display of brilliancy.
Whether Mary Monson had a purpose to answer in giving
Timms so unusual a reception, we shall leave the reader to discover by means of his own sagacity; but circumstances might well
lead one to the conclusion that she had. There was a satisfied
look, as she glanced around the cell and surveyed its arrangements, that possibly led fairly enough to such an inference. Nevertheless, her demeanour was perfectly quiet, betraying none of
the fidgeting uneasiness of an underbred person, lest all might
not be right. Every arrangement was left to the servant; and when
Marie Moulin finally quitted the cell and closed the door behind her, every thought of the apartment and what it contained
seemed to vanish from the mind of her extraordinary mistress.
“Before you proceed to communicate the purpose of your
visit, Mr. Timms,” Mary Monson said, “I shall ask permission to
put a few questions of my own, touching the state of our cause.
Have we gained or lost by this day’s proceedings?”
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