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Page 8
"The funeral is to take place to-morrow; George Manners is fully
committed to take his trial for wilful murder at the ensuing assizes."
The above condemning extract only too well represented the state of
public feeling. All Middlesex--nay, all England--was roused to
indignation, and poor Edmund's youth and infirmities made the crime
appear the more cowardly and detestable.
CHAPTER IV.
DRIFTING TO THE END.
My misery between the time of the murder and the trial was terrible from
many causes: my brother's death; George's position; the knowledge of his
sufferings, and my inability to see or soothe them--and, worst of all,
the firm conviction of his guilt in every one's mind, and Harriet's
ceaseless reproaches. I do not think that I should have lived through
it, but for Dr. Penn. That excellent and revered man's kindness will, I
trust, ever be remembered by me with due gratitude. He went up to town
constantly, at his own expense, and visited my dear George in Newgate,
administering all the consolations of his high office and long
experience, and being the bearer of our messages to each other. From him
also I gleaned all the news of which otherwise I should have been kept
in ignorance; how George's many friends were making every possible
exertion on his behalf, and how an excellent counsel was retained for
him. But far beyond all his great kindness, was to me the simple fact
that he shared my belief in George's innocence; for there were times
when the universal persuasion of his guilt almost shook, not my faith,
but my reason.
There were early prayers in our little church in the morning; too early,
Harriet said, for her to attend much, especially of late, when Dr.
Penn's championship of George Manners had led her to discover more
formalism in his piety, and northern broadness in his accent, than
before. But these quiet services were my daily comfort in those
troublous days; and in the sweet fresh walk home across the park, my
more than father and I hatched endless conspiracies on George's behalf
between the church porch and the rectory gate. Our chief difficulty, I
confess, lay in the question that the world had by this time so terribly
answered--who did it? If George were innocent, who was guilty? My poor
brother had not been popular, and I do not say that one's mind could not
have fixed on a man more likely to commit the crime than George, under
not less provocation. But it was an awful deed, Nelly, to lay to any
man's charge, even in thought; and no particle of evidence arose to fix
the guilt on any one else, or even to suggest an accomplice. As the time
wore on, suspense became sickening.
"Sir," I said to him one day, "I am breaking down. I have brought some
plants to set in your garden. I wish you would give me something to do
for you. Your shirts to make, your stockings to darn. If I were a poor
woman I should work down my trouble. As it is--"
"Hush!" said the doctor; you are what God has made you. My dear
madam, Janet tells me, what my poor eyes have hardly observed, that my
ruffles are more worn than beseems a doctor in divinity. Now for
myself--"
"Hush!" said I, mimicking him. "My dear sir, you have taught me to plot
and conspire, and this very afternoon I shall hold a secret interview
with Mistress Janet. But say something about my trouble. What will
happen?--How will it end?--What shall we do?"
"My love," he said, "keep heart. I fully believe in his innocence. There
is heavy evidence against him, but there are also some strong points in
his favour; and you must believe that the jury have no object to do
anything but justice, or believe anything but the truth, and that they
will find accordingly. And God defend the right!"
Eleanor!--they found him Guilty.
* * * * *
I have asked Dr. Penn to permit me to make an extract from his journal
in this place. It is less harrowing to copy than to recall. I omit the
pious observations and reflections which grace the original. Comforting
as they are to me, it seems a profanity to make them public; besides, it
is his wish that I should withhold them, which is sufficient.
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