An American Story of Real Life CHAPTER 8.
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"Good morning, Mr. Blackstone," said Henry Ware, entering the office of the Attorney General, about three weeks after the fatal affray. "So you've got me down for that unpleasant affair?"
"To what do you allude, Mr. Ware?" the Attorney General asked, gravely.
"To the affair which happened at Chestnut Street, some two or three weeks ago."
"Do you refer to the murder of Cooper by Pandora?"
"Yes. To that murder, or manslaughter, or homicide, which ever you feel disposed to call it. But, as I was saying, you have got me down for one of the witnesses?"
"Oh yes. Now I remember; and a very important witness you are. You were present at the beginning, through the progress, and at the termination, of the affray; and, of course, your testimony will decide the matter. You were playing with Pandora at the time Cooper came up to the table at which he was sitting, I understand. Was that so?"
"I' am sorry to say that I was," Ware replied, his tone changing a good deal, in spite of a determined effort not to let the deep concern he felt become too visible.
"That is important," returned Mr. Blackstone, with a thoughtful air. "I hope," he added, in a few moments after, "that you will keep the whole scene fresh in your memory, so as to describe it accurately."
"But can you not, possibly, dispense with my testimony?" Ware asked. "There were many others present, who can fully attest all the facts in the case."
"We have failed to learn any of their names, except that of Thomas Handy, who has been summoned to appear as well as yourself."
"Why will not his evidence be conclusive in the matter?"
"Because, as you well know, corroborating testimony is always desirable."
"How soon will the case come up?"
"At the next term, which commences in about two months."
The young man's countenance fell, and he seemed troubled at this information. A brief silence followed, and then he said, while his voice slightly trembled--
"I have reasons, Mr, Blackstone, of a very important nature, for not wishing to appear in this case."
"I am sorry for it Mr. Ware; and regret the absolute necessity for calling you."
"Do not say absolute necessity, Mr. Blackstone," Ware rejoined, while his manner became agitated. "I cannot, I must not appear!"
"What detriment can it be to you simply to relate what you saw? You were no actor in the case."
"But I could not have seen what passed in that establishment, if I had not, unfortunately, been there. It is the fact of my presence there that I do not wish known."
"I am sorry for the existing necessity," replied the Attorney General; "but cannot accede to your desire. The evidence which you can give, is of too much importance to the State to be waived."
The manner of Ware became still more agitated at this.
"You know not, Mr. Blackstone," he said, in an earnest and almost supplicating tone, "how much depends upon the concealment of the fact that I was present at that unfortunate affray. If it should become known, it will mar all my expectations in life."
"I regret exceedingly to hear you say so," the Attorney General simply remarked at this; and then the young man went on--
"The fact is, Mr. Blackstone, to make you fully sensible of my situation, in the hope that an appreciation of it may induce you to consider me more than you are now inclined to do, I will mention, that I have recently made proposals to old Mr. Martin, for the hand of his youngest daughter, and that I am now awaiting a decision. I have no doubt of its being in my favor. But should this fact get out before the consummation of the marriage, the engagement will inevitably be broken off. I was a fool to go to that miserable place anyhow; and would not have done so, had it not been for the persuasion of a friend, for I have no taste tor such amusements."
"I certainly feel for your situation very much," said Mr. Blackstone. And he only spoke what he felt; for he really believed the concluding portion of the young man's statement--not having had much knowledge of his previous character and habits of life.
"It is a very peculiar and very critical one, indeed," was Ware's reply. And I do hope you will, as it is in your power, duly consider the delicate position in which I am placed."
"But it is not in my power to do so, Mr. Ware."
"How, can that be? Is it not upon your summons that all witnesses appear?
"Very true. But in this act I cannot be governed by any considerations, except those which regard justice."
"Still, justice may be attained as fully by my non-appearance, as by my appearance."
"I do not think so."
"But surely the testimony of Mr. Handy will be conclusive."
"It may not be in the minds of all the jurors. But if in your testimony and Handy's, there is a corroborating agreement on some important point, then doubt will be set aside. You see, therefore, that it is impossible for me, as much as I feel for you in so unpleasant a position, to accede to your wishes. Were it in my power, I would do so cheerfully; but, as I have before said, it is not in my power. I cannot let any personal consideration interfere to endanger the cause of justice."
"Do not say that in this resolution, you are fixed, Mr. Blackstone," returned Ware, appealingly.
"I certainly do say so, and emphatically," was the firm reply. "My office is a responsible one; and in the discharge of its duties, I allow no personal considerations."
There was now a long silence, deeply troubled on the part of the young man.
"And you think the trial will come up at the next term?" he at length asked in an anxious tone.
"Oh yes. It is already entered for the next Court."
Perceiving by the manner of the Attorney General, that it was useless to urge him farther, Henry Ware retired, with a feeling of deeper and more painful anxiety than he had yet experienced. He had fondly believed that, under the peculiar circumstances of the case, where there was another witness who could testify as fully and as clearly as himself to all the facts which had occurred, there would be no great difficulty in his getting relieved from the duty of a witness; but this hope, the Attorney General had dashed to the ground.
And he now saw himself standing, as it were, on the brink of utter ruin, as he esteemed it. For if he failed under these circumstances, to secure the hand of Bell Martin, the fact would become so notorious, that all hope of securing any other prize of equal value, would be cut off. It would, likewise, involve such an exposure, as to utterly destroy his father's newly awakened confidence, and cause him further to curtail supplies of money. This would necessarily separate them so far as to make it very doubtful whether the old gentleman, at his death, would trust much of his property in the hands of one in whose habits and principles, there was so little to approve.
"What is to be done now?" he asked, thoughtfully, as he seated himself in his office. "If this comes out before Bell is mine, the whole jig is up. And what then? Why, the old man will be so incensed, that, in all probability, he will tell me to go and shift for myself. And a pretty figure I would make at that kind of work. What could I do? Gamble, I suppose, and nothing else--and not much headway would I make at that, it strikes me. But if I could only get fairly spliced to Bell, I would have two strings to my bow. My old dad, and hers too, would then think twice before cutting loose from me. And, besides, I would have two deep pockets to thrust my hand in, and both together, it strikes me, ought to keep me in spending money. Let me see--this trial will come up in two months. Can't I push the wedding through in that time? I must try, for everything depends upon it. Certainly, old Martin has had full time to consider, and decide upon my offer! And I think he has decided favorably, for his manner grows more and more encouraging and familiar every time I meet him. I'll see him this very day and press for an answer; and if that should be favorable, will next urge an immediate marriage. It is my only course."
Acting upon this decision. Ware sought and obtained a private interview with Mr. Martin on that afternoon.
"You must excuse me, Mr. Martin," he said, after alluding to the object of his visit, "for my so early asking a decision. Young folks, you know, are restless under uncertainties--and, especially, under an uncertainty of this nature, you cannot wonder that I should feel anxious. I trust, therefore, that you have taken pains to satisfy yourself as to my ability to render your daughter happy, and are now prepared to give me a final answer."
The old man sat thoughtful for some moments, after Ware had ceased speaking. All that he had seen or heard, since his proposal for the hand of Bell, had caused him to think more and more favorably of the young man's suit. And yet he did not feel satisfied. Whenever he thought of resigning his daughter to Ware, it was with feelings of unconquerable reluctance. The man he would choose for his child, if the full choice were his, would be one in whom correct principles had been early implanted, and had grown with his growth, and strengthened with his strength. Such was not the case with Ware. With him, correct principles were of but a hot-bed growth; and, therefore, he could feel no well-grounded confidence in them. Still, he would condemn this kind of judgment, on the argument that the young man had evidently seen his error, and was now thoroughly reforming himself. That, with maturer years, a youthful love of exciting pleasures and loose company had subsided, never again to exercise any controlling influence over him.
"In one week I will give you a decisive answer, Henry," Mr. Martin at length replied.
"Even a week seems a great while to prolong this kind of suspense, Mr. Martin. I have already waited with as much as I could exercise, for many weeks."
"But there need be no hurry about the matter, Henry. You are both young, and won't expect to be married for a year to come."
This remark made the young man's spirits sink at once. If not married within a year, very certain was he, that he would never be married at all to Bell Martin. But he would not trust himself to reply. The first thing was to gain the father's consent to marry her at all.
"I must wait a week, you say?" he remarked after a brief silence.
"In a week, I will be prepared to decide upon your proposition."
"It will be a month to me," said Ware, as he arose to depart.
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