Читать книгу Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXIV, May 1852, Vol. IV - Various - Страница 3

During the night, Antonio had time to reflect upon the situation in which he was placed, and to consider what it was best for him to do. He decided that the first thing to be done, was to write to Mrs. Henry, and inform her what had happened. He determined also not to reveal any thing against Rodolphus, unless he should find that he was required by law to do so – at least until he could have time to consider whether something could not yet be done to save him from the utter ruin which would follow from his being convicted of burglary and sent to the state prison.

In the morning, an officer came with a regular warrant for arresting Antonio, on the charge of setting the corn-barn on fire. A warrant is a paper signed by a justice or judge, authorizing the officer to seize a prisoner, and to bring him before a magistrate, for what is called an examination. If, on the examination, the magistrate sees that the prisoner is clearly innocent, he releases him, and that is the end of the matter. If, however, he finds that there is reason to suspect that he may be guilty, he orders the officer to keep him in the jail till the time comes for the court to meet and try his case.

Sometimes, when the offense is not very serious, they release the prisoner on bail, as it is called, during the time that intervenes between his examination and his trial. That is, they give him up to his friends, on condition that his friends agree that he shall certainly appear at the time of trial – covenanting that if he does not appear they will pay a large sum of money. The money that is to be forfeited, if he fails to appear, varies in different cases, and is fixed by the judge in each particular case. This money is called the bail. If the prisoner has a bad character, and his friends generally believe that he is guilty, he can not get bail, for his friends are afraid that if they give bail for him, and so let him have his liberty, he will run away before the time comes for his trial, and then they will lose the money. When, for this or any other reason, a prisoner can not get bail, he has to go to prison, and stay there till his trial comes on. On the other hand, if the prisoner has a good character, and if his friends have confidence in him, they give bail, and thus he is left at liberty until his trial comes on.

At the examination of a prisoner, which takes place usually very soon after he is first arrested, he is allowed to say any thing that he pleases to say, in explanation of the suspicious circumstances under which he was taken. He is, however, not required to say any thing unless he chooses. The reason of this is, that no one is required to furnish any proof against himself, when he is charged with crime. If he can say any thing which will operate in his favor, he is allowed to do it, and what he says is written down, and is produced on his trial, to be used for or against him according to the circumstances of the case.

When the officer came in, in the morning, to arrest Antonio, he told him he was to go at eleven o'clock the next morning before the magistrate to be examined. Antonio asked the officer whether he could be allowed, in the mean time, to write a letter to his friends in Franconia.

"Yes," said the officer, "only I must see what you write."

So they brought Antonio a sheet of paper, and a pen and ink. He sat down to a table and wrote as follows:

"Hiburgh, July 10.

"To Mrs. Henry;

"There was a fire here last night which burnt up an old corn-barn, and I have been taken up for it, by the officers. They think that I set the corn-barn on fire, but I did not do it. I suppose, though, that I shall have to be tried, and I expect that I must go to prison until the trial comes on, unless Mr. Keep could come down here and make some arrangement for me. You may depend that I did not set the corn-barn on fire.

"Yours with much respect,

"A. Bianchinette."

The officer read this letter when it was finished, and then asked Antonio whether it should be put into the post-office. Antonio inquired how much it would cost to send a boy with it on purpose. The officer told him what he thought it would cost, and then Antonio took out the money that he had in his pocket to see if he had enough. He found that he had more than enough, and so the officer sent a special messenger with the letter.

"And now," said the officer, "you must go with me to my house. I am going to keep you there until the examination to-morrow."

So Antonio took his cap and went down stairs with the officer. He found quite a number of men and boys at the door, waiting to see him come. These people followed him along through the street, as he walked toward the officer's house, some running before, to look him in the face, and some running behind, and calling him incendiary and other hard names. Antonio took no notice of them, but walked quietly along, talking with the officer.

When he got opposite to the lane, he looked down toward the place where the corn-barn had stood. He found that it had been burnt to the ground. The ruins were still smoking, and several men and boys were standing around the place – some looking idly on, and some poking up the smouldering fires.

There was something in Antonio's frank and honest air, and in the intelligence and good sense which he manifested in his conversation, which interested the officer in his favor. He told his wife when he got home that Antonio was the most honest looking rogue that he ever had the custody of. It shows, however, he added, how little we can trust to appearances. I once had a man in my keeping, who looked as innocent and simple-minded as Dorinda there, but he turned out to be one of the most cunning counterfeiters in the state.

Dorinda was the officer's little girl.

There was a room in the officer's house, which was made very strong, and used for the temporary keeping of prisoners. They put Antonio into this room and locked him in.

The officer, however, told him when he went away, that he would bring him some breakfast pretty soon; and this he did in about half an hour. Antonio ate his breakfast with an excellent appetite.

After breakfast he moved his chair up to a small window, which had been made in one side of the room. The window had a sash on the inside, and great iron bars without. Antonio opened the sash and looked out through the iron bars. He saw a pleasant green yard, and a little girl playing there upon the grass.

"What is your name?" said Antonio.

The little girl started at hearing this voice, ran back a little way, and then stood looking at Antonio with her hands behind her.

"Bring me that piece of paper," said Antonio, "that lies there on the grass, and I will make you a picture."

The girl stood still a moment as if much astonished, and then advancing timidly, she picked up the paper and brought it to Antonio's window, which was very near the ground, and held it up. Antonio reached his arm out between the bars of the grating and took the paper in.

Although the window was not high, it seemed to be with some difficulty that Antonio could reach the paper as Dorinda held it up. But this was partly because Dorinda was afraid, and did not dare to come too near.

Antonio took a pencil out of his pocket, and putting the paper down upon the window sill, he began to draw. Dorinda stood still upon the ground outside, watching him. Antonio made a picture of a very grave and matronly-looking cat, lying upon a stone step and watching two kittens that were playing upon the grass before her. There was a bare-headed boy near, who seemed to be putting a mitten upon his hand. Underneath Antonio wrote the words —

When the work was finished, Antonio threw the paper out the window, and Dorinda who had been all the time looking on with a very serious expression of countenance, took it up, and began to look at the drawing. She could not read, so she only looked at the picture. After examining it for some minutes, without, however, at all relaxing the extreme gravity of her countenance, she ran off to show the paper to her mother.

Presently she came back again. By this time Antonio had made another drawing. It was the representation of his own window, as it would appear on the outside, with iron bars forming a grating, and himself looking through between them. Underneath he wrote,

"Pity the poor prisoner, and bring him some books to read."

Dorinda took this picture too, when Antonio threw it out to her, and ran in with it to her mother. Presently she came out with two books in her hand. She came under the window and held them up timidly to Antonio, and Antonio took them in.

By the help of these books and some other indulgences that the officer allowed him, Antonio got through the day very comfortably and well.

The next morning, at eleven o'clock, the officer came to take his prisoner to the justice, for examination. The officer led Antonio along the street till he came to a lawyer's office. There were several men and boys about the door. These persons eyed Antonio very closely when he went in. On entering the office, Antonio was brought up in front of a table which stood in the middle of the room. A young man was sitting at the table with paper, and pen, and ink before him. He was the clerk. The justice himself sat in an arm-chair near the window.

The men and boys from the outside came in immediately after Antonio, and stood in the office, near the door, to hear the examination.

When all was ready, the justice commenced by saying to Antonio,

"What is your name?" young man.

"Antonio Bianchinette," said Antonio.

"Where do you live?" asked the justice.

"In Franconia," said Antonio.

"You are aware, I suppose," said the justice, "that you are charged with having set fire to the building which was burned night before last, and you are brought here for a preliminary examination. You can do just as you please about giving any explanation of the circumstances of the case, or answering any questions that I put to you. If you make any statements or answer any questions, what you say will be put down, and will be used either for, or against you, as the case may be, on your trial."

Antonio said in reply, that he did not wish to make any statements, or to answer any questions in relation to the fire.

"There is one thing, however," he added, "that I wish to say, and that is, that there is something buried in the ground, under the place where the building stood, that ought to be dug up, and if you will take me to the place I will show you where to dig."

"What is it that is buried there?" said the justice.

"I would rather not answer that question," said Antonio.

The justice paused a moment to consider what to do. He had heard of the robbery that had been committed on Saturday night, for Mr. Kerber, on going into his office on Monday morning, had found the back door unhasped, and his desk broken open, and the news of the robbery had spread all over the village. People wondered whether there could be any connection between the robbery and the fire, though nothing had been said to Antonio about it.

After thinking a moment about Antonio's proposal, the justice concluded to accede to it. The officer accordingly sent a man to get a spade and directed him to come with it to the ruins of the corn-barn. Another man went to tell Mr. Kerber that the boy who had been taken up for setting the barn on fire, had said that there was something buried there, and that perhaps it might prove to be his money-box. So Mr. Kerber determined to go and see.

In a short time quite a large party were assembled around the ruins. Antonio directed them where to dig. The men pulled away the blackened timbers and brands which were lying over the spot, and began to dig into the ground. In a few minutes they struck something hard with the spade, and setting the spade down beneath it so as to pry it out, they found that it was indeed Mr. Kerber's box.

The men gathered eagerly around to examine the box. Mr. Kerber shook it and found that the money was safe inside. He took out his key, but he could not get it into the key-hole, for the key-hole had got filled with earth. He turned the box down upon its side and knocked it upon something hard, and so got the earth out, and then he found that the key would go in. He unlocked the box, and to his great joy found that all was safe.

Antonio would not make any explanation, except that he did not suppose that any thing else was buried there, and that consequently it would do no good to dig any more. He said, moreover, that he expected some of his friends would come from Franconia before night to see about his case, and so the justice gave him up to the care of the officer again, until his friends should come. The officer accordingly took his prisoner away again, and Mr. Kerber carried his money-box home.

Mr. Keep arrived that day about noon. He immediately had an interview with Antonio. After some little general conversation, Antonio said that he would rather not make any explanations of the circumstances under which he was arrested at present, even to Mr. Keep, unless Mr. Keep requested it.

"I tell you truly, sir," said he, "that I am entirely innocent: but I can not state what I know, without breaking a poor girl's heart who once saved my life, and I can not do it."

Mr. Keep was silent a few minutes when Antonio said this. He recollected Rodolphus and Ellen his sister, and recalled to mind the story of Ellen and the snow-shoes, which he had heard at the time. He immediately understood the whole case.

"I am not surprised that you feel as you do," said he, "but when a crime is committed and we are called upon to testify as a witness, we are bound to state what we know, without regard to our private feelings."

"Yes, sir," said Antonio, "but I am not called upon as a witness. I am charged with committing the crime myself, and the justice said that I was at liberty to answer or not, as I chose."

Mr. Keep was silent for a moment. He seemed to be reflecting upon what Rodolphus had said.

"By taking the course that you propose," he added, at length, "you run a great risk of being condemned yourself for the crime."

"Why, no, sir," said Antonio; "I can't be condemned unless they prove that I did it; and as I really did not do it, I don't think that they can prove that I did."

Mr. Keep smiled.

"Well suppose that you do as you propose," said Mr. Keep, "and allow yourself to take the place of the one who is really guilty, what good will it do him? You will only leave him to commit more crimes."

"I hope not, sir," said Antonio "I should try to get him away from here to some new place. I think that he has been led away. He has got into bad company."

"Well," said Mr. Keep, after a short pause, "the plan may succeed, but you run a great risk in taking such a course. I think that there is great danger that you would be condemned and sent to the state prison."

"Well," said Beechnut, "I should not mind that very much. There is no great harm in going to prison, if you are only innocent. I have been shut up here one day already, and I had a good time."

Mr. Keep said finally that the subject required time for consideration, and that in the mean time he would make arrangements for giving bail for Antonio. This he did, and then he and Antonio went together back to Franconia.