Читать книгу The Case Of Miss Elliott - Baroness Orczy - Страница 10

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“These sort of cases,” continued the man in the corner after a slight pause, during which his nervous fingers toyed incessantly with that eternal bit of string— “these sort of cases always create a great deal of attention amongst the public, the majority of whom in this country have very strong sporting proclivities. It was small wonder, therefore, when Alice Image and Charles Palk were brought before the local magistrates, that the court was crowded to overflowing, both with pressmen and with the general public.

“I had all along been very much interested in the case, so I went down to Newmarket, and, in spite of the huge crowd, managed to get a good seat, whence I could command a full view of the chief personages concerned in this thrilling sporting drama.

“Firstly, there was the Earl of Okehampton— good-looking, but for an unmistakable air of the broken-down sporting man about his whole person; the trainer, Mr Keeson— a lean, clean-shaven man, with a fine, proud carriage, and a general air of ancient lineage and the Domesday Booke about him; Mrs Keeson— a pale, nervous-looking creature, who seemed very much out of place in this sporting set; and, finally, the accused— Alice Image, dissolved in tears, and Charles Palk, overdressed, defiant, horsey, and unsympathetic.

“There was also Cockram, the groom. My short-sighted eyes had fastened on him the moment I entered the court. A more wretched, miserable, bewildered expression I have never seen on any man’s face.

“Both Alice Image and Charles Palk flatly denied the charge. Alice declared, amid a renewed deluge of tears, that she was engaged to be married to Cockram, that she ‘no more would have hurt him or the pretty creature he was in charge of, for anything’. How could she? As for Palk— conscious, no doubt, of his own evil reputation— he merely contented himself with shrugging his shoulders and various denials, usually accompanied with emphatic language.

“As neither of the accused attempted to deny that they had been together the day before the outrage, there was no occasion to call witnesses to further prove that fact. Both, however, asserted emphatically that their conversation was entirely confined to the subject of Alice’s proposed flutters on the favourite for the next day’s race.

“Thus the only really important witness was the groom, Cockram. Once again his attitude as a witness caused a great deal of surprise, and gradually, as he gave his evidence in a peculiarly halting and nervous manner, that surprise was changed into suspicion.

“Questioned by the magistrate, he tried his hardest to exonerate Alice from all blame; and yet when asked whether he had cause to suspect anyone else he became more confused than ever, said, ‘No,’ emphatically first, then, ‘Yes,’ and finally looked round the court appealingly, like some poor animal at bay. That the man was hiding something, that he was, in point of fact, lying, was apparent to everyone. He had drunk the beer, he said, unsuspectingly on that fatal night; he had then dropped off to sleep almost immediately, and never woke until about six a.m., when a glance at the mare at once told him that there was something very wrong.

“However, whether Cockram was lying or not— whether he suspected anyone else or was merely trying to shield his sweetheart, there was, in the opinion of the magistrate, quite sufficient evidence to prove that Alice Image, at any rate, had a hand in the hocussing of Cigarette, since it was she who had brought the drugged beer to Cockram. Beyond that there was not sufficient evidence to show either that she was a tool in the hands of Palk, or that they both were merely instruments in the hands of some third person.

“Anyway, the magistrate— it was Major Laverton, JP, a great personal friend of the Earl of Okehampton, and a remarkably clever and acute man— tried his hardest to induce Alice to confess. He questioned the poor girl so closely and so rigorously that gradually she lost what little self-control she had, and everyone in the court blamed Major Laverton not a little, for he was gradually getting the poor girl into a state of hysterics.

“As for me, I inwardly commended the learned JP, for already I had guessed what he was driving at, and was not the least astonished when the dramatic incident occurred which rendered this case so memorable.

“Alice Image, namely, now thoroughly unnerved, harassed with the Major’s questions, suddenly turned to where Cockram was sitting, and, with hysterical cry, she stretched out both her arms towards him.

“‘Joe! my Joe!’ she cried; ‘you know I didn’t do it! Can’t you do anything to help me?’

“It was pathetic in the extreme: everyone in the court felt deeply moved. As for Cockram, a sudden change came over him. I am accustomed to read the faces of my fellow men, and in that rough countenance I saw then emerging, in response to the girl’s appeal, a quick and firm resolution.

“‘Ay, and I will, Alice!’ he said, jumping to his feet. ‘I have tried to do my duty. If the gentlemen will hear me I will say all I know.’

“Needless to say, ‘the gentlemen’ were only too ready to hear him. Like a man who, having made up his mind, is now resolved to act upon it, the groom Cockram began his story.

“‘I told your worship that, having drunk the beer that night, I dropped off to sleep very fast and very heavy-like. How long I’d been asleep I couldn’t say, when suddenly something seemed not exactly to wake me but to dispel my dreams, so to speak. I opened my eyes. and at first I couldn’t see anything, as the gas in the stable was turned on very low; but I put out my hand to feel the mare’s fetlocks, just by way of telling her that I was there all right enough, and looking after her— bless her! At that moment, your worship, I noticed that the stable door was open, and that someone— I couldn’t see who it was— was goin’ out of it. “Who goes there?” says I, for I still felt very sleepy and dull, when, to my astonishment, who should reply to me but —’

“The man paused, and once more over his rough, honest face came the old look of perplexity and misery.

“‘But —?’ queried the magistrate, whose nerves were obviously as much on tension as those of everyone else in that court.

“‘Speak, Joe— won’t you?’ appealed Alice Image pathetically.

“‘But the mistress— Mrs Keeson, sir,’ came from the groom in an almost inaudible whisper. ‘You know, ma’am,’ he added, while the gathering tears choked his voice, ‘I wouldn’t ’ave spoke. But she’s my sweetheart, ma’am; and I couldn’t bear that the shame should rest on her.’

“There was a moment’s deadly silence in that crowded court. Everyone’s eyes wandered towards the pale face of Mrs Keeson, which, however, though almost livid in colour, expressed nothing but the most boundless astonishment. As for Mr Keeson, surprise, incredulity, then furious wrath at the slander, could be seen chasing one another upon his handsome face.

“‘What lie is this?’ burst involuntarily from his lips, as his fingers closed more tightly upon the heavy riding whip which he was holding.

“‘Silence, please!’ said the Major with authority. ‘Now, Cockram, go on. You say Mrs Keeson spoke to you. What did she say?’

“‘She seemed rather upset, sir,’ continued Cockram, still looking with humble apology across at his mistress, ‘for she only stammered something about: “Oh, it’s nothing, Cockram. I only wanted to speak to my son— er— to Mr Harold— I—”’

“‘Harold?’ thundered Mr Keeson, who was fast losing his temper.

“‘I must ask you, Mr Keeson, to be silent,’ said the Major. ‘Go on, Cockram.’

“And Cockram continued his narrative:

“‘“Mr Harold, ma’am?” I said. “What should ’e be doing ’ere in the stables at this time of night?” “Oh, nothing,” says she to me, “I thought I saw him come in here. I must have been mistaken. Never mind, Cockram; it’s all right. Good night.”

“‘I said good night, too, and then fell to wondering what Mr ’Arold could have wanted prowling round the stables at this hour of the night. Just then the clock of St Saviour’s struck four o’clock, and while I was still wondering I fell asleep again, and never awoke until six, when the mare was as sick as she could be. And that’s the whole truth, gentlemen; and I would never have spoke— for Mr and Mrs Keeson have always been good to me, and I’d have done anything to save them the disgrace— but Alice is goin’ to be my wife, and I couldn’t bear any shame to rest upon ’er.’

“When Cockram had finished speaking you might have heard a pin drop as Major Laverton asked Mrs Keeson to step into the witness-box. She looked fragile and pale, but otherwise quite self-possessed as she quietly kissed the book and said in a very firm tone of voice:

“‘I can only say in reply to the extraordinary story which this man has just told that the drug in the beer must have given him peculiarly vivid dreams. At the hour he names I was in bed fast asleep, as my husband can testify; and the whole of Cockram’s narrative is a fabrication from beginning to end. I may add that I am more than willing to forgive him. No doubt his brain was clouded by the opiate; and now he is beside himself owing to Alice Image’s predicament. As for my son Harold, he was absent from home that night; he was spending it with some bachelor friends at the Stag and Mantle hotel in Newmarket.’

“‘Yes! By the way,’ said the magistrate, ‘where is Mr Harold Keeson? I have no doubt that he will be able to give a very good account of himself on that memorable night.’

“‘My son is abroad, your worship,’ said Mrs Keeson, while a shade of a still more livid hue passed over her face.

“‘Abroad, is he?’ said the magistrate cheerfully. ‘Well, that settles the point satisfactorily for him, doesn’t it? When did he go?’

“‘Last Thursday, your worship,’ replied Mrs Keeson.

“Then there was silence again in the court, for that last Thursday was the day of the Coronation Stakes— the day immediately following the memorable night on which the mare Cigarette had been poisoned by an unknown hand.”