LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 423, 20 October 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE PIERCED HEART. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE RETD. ( Concluded .) Questioned as to the cause of her death, he replied by simply stating the nature of the disease —at the same time putting in a copy of his own certificate, entered at the Registrar’s office. Shown the needle, and told where it had been taken from, he was next asked if he knew anything about that. ‘I do,’ was his affirmative reply, made promptly as unexpectedly. The feeling of astonishment was intense ; the bystanders stood with bated breath—every eye keenly bent upon the witness—every ear eagerly listening for what he would next say. ' Be good enough,’ continued the coroner, ‘to state what you know; and remember, Dr Lamson, you are on your oath.’ ‘ I need no reminding of that,’ testily retorted the witness 1 That needle was placed where you found it by my own hand.’ The extraordinary avowal could not increase the surprise, already at its height ; but a hum of half-angry ejaculations rose up from among the spectators. Commanding silence, the coroner pursued : ‘ For that act, Dr Lamson, we ask your explanation.’ ‘ You shall have it. For some months previous to her death, Miss Ingleworth was aware that she suffered from heart disease. Indeed I myself, having become satisfied of the fact, told her of it. Then she spoke of a subject that had much occupied her mind. No doubt most people present will remember the singular circumstance, which, just a year ago, caused a crowd to assemble within this same cemetery. I speak of the body of a young girl being found in such condition as proved her to have been buried alive. Miss Ingleworth was one of those who came to view it, and was very much affected by the spectacle, as she herself told me. It had taken possession of her mind, so much as to beget a nervous, morbid apprehension that the same thing might happen to herself. I endeavoured to laugh her out of the idea ; but she remained serious, and to my great surprise made a request to me, that in the event of my being present at her death, I would take measures to make her secure against the possibility of the dreaded revivification. She even prescribed the mode, and herself gave me that needle you now hold in your hand. I at first flatly refused, and endeavoured to dissuade her from repeating the request. She did so neverthei ess, urging it upon me; and to gain my consent made mention of the large legacy which, as you all know, she has left me. ’ * Go on, sir ! ’ said the coroner. * I need hardly expect, continued the witness, with the air of an injured man, ‘ I need scarce hope to get credit for having opposed her wish. Much less am I likely to be believed, when I say that it was not the legacy that at length induced me to accede to her request. She entreated me, and I yielded —as I now find to my misfortune. ’ ‘ Have you any proof of her having made this request—■which I must characterise as very extraordinary indeed ? ’ ‘ I had —in her own handwriting, and with her seal and signature attached —for protection against just such an eventuality as has arisen. She gave me that document, which to my sorrow and chagrin I only yesterday discovered to be missing. I had placed it carelessly in an open pigeon-hole in my dispensing room—from which some one has abstracted it. ’ ‘ Have you any suspicion as to who has taken it ? ’ ‘Not any, at present. Many people attend at my house, and patients are often left in the surgery alone. ’ At this point of the examination Captain Walton—who had been all the while listening attentively—was observed to direct a searching glance towards Lamson’s assistant, Nudin ; who, as one of the subpoenaed witnesses, was outside the inclosure waiting for his turn to be called. From his customary cadaverous hue, it would not be correct to say he turned pale ; but the captain noticed —what passed unobserved by the others —a singular twitching in the sinews of his cranelike neck, with an expreesion in his ghoulish eyes that seemed to say—though only to himself —‘ I am the guilty one.’ The coroner continued, still addressing Dr Lamson, and holding out the needle : ‘ Explain to the jury, how you acted in regard to this. State the exact circumstances: tell everything. ’ There is not much more to tell. As soon as I was assured that life was extinct, I acted according to my promise given to the young lady, and inserted the needle as she had herself instructed me. Of course I sought an opportunity when no one was present by the death-bed. Had I done the thing openly, it is possible no |one would have objected ; but there might have been talk about a proceeding so unusual, and I should no doubt have been blamed —as I am likely to be now. ‘ More than blamed !’ cried a man from among the outside crowd, his remark followed by a chorus of similar observations. * Silence !’ commanded the coroner. ‘ I shall order into custody any one who may again interrupt the inquest. ’ Then turning to Dr Lamson, he asked : ‘ Will you swear that heart disease was the real ' cause of Miss Ingleworth’s death ? ’ ‘ I will—l do swear it. But why question me further? Complete the post-mortem examination, and that will satisfy you. As you see, upon that needle there is no stain of blood ; nor any extravasation around the orifice where it entered. I need not point out to my medical brethren here —that such could not be the case had the needle been inserted into the flesh of a living subject. Let them lay open the breast, and they will find, as stated in my certificate, a case of heart atrophy. On that I shall stake my skill as a physician.’ The medical examiners, accepting the challenge, proceeded to determine the truth of his declaration. Indeed it was evident

that on more than one of them his words had produced conviction. Still it was necessary they should be submitted to the test of a thorough post-mortem examination. But the inconvenience of completing this in the open air suggested the removal of the body into the vestry-room ; and thither was it taken—only the coroner, his jury, and other official pei sonages being permitted to accompany it. When the breast was laid open, and the heart disclosed to view, it was seen that Dr Lamson’s words were made good. The deceased lady had died of heart disease—of the special kind called atrophy; or at all events, she had such disease before death. After all, it may not have been it that caused her death ; and the uncertainty—along with some suspicion, still lingering in the minds of several of the jurymen—caused some questions to be brought before the medical examiners, in the discussion of which there was a dissidence of opinion. In the assumed condition of the heart, was it not possible for it to have been pierced without interfering with the flow of blood? Outside it no vein, or ariery, had been touched ; and therefore the absence of extravasation was thus accounted for. Might it not be the same within the heart itself, and the steel had entered it while still beating ? In all likelihood, such questions would never have arisen, but for that legacy of ten thousand pounds—an amount staggering credulity. Of course Dr Lamson was not present in the vestry-room—he with the other witnesses having been directed to wait in an antechamber, outside. After a considerable time spent in debating the above points, and night drawing near, the coronor saw fit to postpone his unfinished inquest till the following day ; and the witnesses were warned of the hour of reattendance. Several of the jury advised placing Dr Lamson under immediate arrest; but in the doubtful state of the case this was overruled, and he was permitted to depart for his own house. Some hisses saluted him, as he passed out through the churchyard gate ; but, bearing it with an indifference, that seemed fortitude itself, the crowd became ashamed of its conduct, and desisted from further demonstration. Captain Walton returned home, accompanied by a gentleman named Charlecote, whom he had invited to dine with him—an old friend, who was one of the magistrates of the neighbourhood. As they sat over their wine, smoking an after-dinner cigar, the conversation naturally turned upon the events of the day—soon coming to Dr Lamsou’s testimony. * His story, though certainly very strange, seems probable enough,’ remarked the magistrate ; ‘ don’t you think so, Walton ?’ * I think it not only probable, but true. I have more than one reason for so thinking. The absence of extravasated blood is, to my mind, proof positive as to the man’s innocence of the higher crime, whatever one may think of his conduct otherwise.’ ‘ May I ask what other reason you have for believing him innocent ?’ ‘ One of a very specific and singular character. Among those whom I had subpoenaed as witnesses, you may have observed a lank, lop-sided creature, by name Nudin?’ ‘ What of him ?’ After describing his encounter with Nudin on the road, and repeating the conversation that had passed between them, the captain added : ‘ I believe Lamson tells the truth about a writing having been given to him by my poor Nelly. He has had such a document ; and ’tis this Nudin who has stolen it. By Jove !’ continued the generous young officer, ‘though I have no reason for liking Lamson, and detest his cupidity, if it prove as I sus pect, he shall be paid the ten thousand pounds xvithout any demur or delay on my part. ’ ‘Dr Lamson, sir !’ announced the footman, entering the room ; ‘ he asks if you will see him, sir.’ ‘ Certainly I will. Slioav him in here.’ ‘ Shall I stay ?’ asked the magistrate. ‘lf my Adsitor does not object. We shall At this moment the doctor was ushered in, looking gra\ r e and pale. ‘ Perhaps you Avish a private inter Anew Avith me, Dr Lamson ?’ said the captain. ‘lf so, Mr Charlecote Avill ’ ‘No,’ interrupted the doctor, bowing to to the magistrate ; ‘ I should prefer both of you hearing Avhat I’ve got to say, and seeing Avhat I have to slioav. Indeed it is a fortunate circumstance for me that Mr Charlecote is here. I intended going to your house, sir, this very night, and asking you to favour me with your friendly advice. ’ ‘ln Avhat Avay, Dr Lamson?’ inquired the magistrate. ‘ This, sir ; Avhich I first came to slioav to Captain Walton, in the hope it may to some extent convince him that I have been telling the truth, and am innocent of the great crime idle tongues have been laying to my charge. On my return home from the inquest, among other letters lying on my table, I found this ; Avhich, as you will see, has been sent me through the post.’ So saying, he [handed Captain Walton a letter. Avhose envelope, already open, bore the address, ‘ Dr Lamson,’ with only a single post-mark, that of E itself. Ihe * stamped date shoAved that the letter* had been dropped into the office that same day. It read thus: — “If Dr Lamson Avill consent to part Avith one thousand pounds out of the ten thousand he is to get by Miss IngleAvorth’s Avill, he can have restored to him a document signed with her name, and which he may stand in need of to keep his neck out of the hangman’s halter. If he agrees to this proposal, and Avill signify so by burning a blue light in his bedroom AvindoAV this night at tAvelve, by to-monw morning’s post he Avill receive another communication, telling him hoAV to pay over the money, and get possession of the paper so precious to him. ’ There was no name signed, nor any address ; only the bald condition as above. ‘ Have you any idea, or suspicion, of avlio Avrote it ? ’ asked Captain Walton, addressing himself to the doctor.

‘ Not the slightest. The handwriting is j entirely unknown to me.’ ‘do me too,’ said Mr Charlecote, after examing it. ‘lt seems a disguised hand—in all likelihood is.’ ‘ Perhaps I can put you on the scent, Doctor,’interposed Captain Walton, after a whispered communication with the magistrate. ‘lf I mistake not, you have in your service a young man named Nudin.’ ‘I have—as honest a fellow as ever breathed - at least so I believe him.’ ‘ It may be that you overrate his honesty. I have reason to think him the very opposite ; and that he is not only dishonest, but as great a traitor as ever served a trusting master, ’ ‘ You astonish me, Captain Walton ! I have always found him faithful.’ ‘ That is because you have not found him out. You may have an opportunity now. Does he sleep in your house ? ‘No—he is only there during the day. At night he goes home) to his mother ; who lives in a cottage on the outskirts of the town. ’ At this Captain Walton and the magistrate exchanged significant glances. Nudin’s sleeping outside the doctor’s house made more probable the suspicion they had already conceived. Mr Charlecote spoke first. ‘ You have said, Dr Lamson, you were coming to me for friendly counsel. Fortunately, from what my friend Captain Walton has told me, lam able to bestow it. I advise you, then, to lose no time in having Mr Nudin handed over to the custody of the police. As a magistrate, I am able to give you the necessary authority; and, if you wdsh, will make out a warrant this very minute. ’ ‘ Doctor, you will do well to take Mr Charlecote’s advice,’ counselled Captain Walton. ‘lt is altogether in your own interest, and for your good. ’ ‘ But, gentlemen, would it not be wrong, my having him arrested -an outrage on an innocent young man ? ’ ‘lf he prove innocent,’ put in Mr Charlecote, ‘it will do him no harm. If the contrary, you will have no reason to regret the steps taken.’ ‘ Dr Lamson,’ said the captain, ‘l’ve good reasons to believe Nudin guilty of purloining the paper you have spoken of. I could give them to you, and would, but for a promise made that I cannot lightly break. But there is no need, as it will not embarrass our action in this matter. All I can say is, that your honest assistant is a traitor to you. I have had proof of it; and if you act on Mr Charlecote’s advice, and have him at once taken into custody, you will, in all probability, find upon his person the document for which this anonymous scribbler wants you to pay one thousand pounds. ’ Dr Lamson was thunderstruck ; but at length, yielding to the conviction that his assistant must be as represented, he requested the magistrate to give him the warrant already offered. It was immediately made out; and, with a note addressed by Mr Charlecote to the police superintendent of the district, placed in Dr Lamson’s hands ; who, thanking the gentlemen for their unexpectedly friendly reception of him, took his leave. It was 11 p.m. before he reached the police station ; but in less than an hour after Nudin was in the safe keeping of a couple of blue-coated constables. He was not taken at his mother’s house, but in a shaded alley off a side street, where he was found skulking, with eyes fixed on Dr Lamson’s bedi’oom window—watching for the blue light. No doubt, had that appeared to his satisfaction, he had concocted some plan by which he could safely receive the black-mail money. For, just as Captain Walton had predicted, on his person, carefully put away in one of the pockets of his threadbare paletot, was found the missing evidence of his master’s innocence. The document contained a declaration by Miss Ingleworth, in which she minutely particularised everything that related to her covenant with Dr Lamson—describing her own apprehensions upon the subject of revivification, and her instructions to take measures against it—even to providing him with the needle with wdiich flier heart was to be pierced ! It concluded with a testimony of his reluctance to undertake the strange trust —only yielding to her most earnest solicitation —in short, completely exonerating the physician, as far as such declaration could. There could be no doubt about the genuineness of the document. It was in Helen Ing’eworth’s own handwriting—known to hundreds —with her autograph underneath, beside the family seal. Next morning, on the inquest being resumed, this paper was laid before the jury—with the testimony of the police as to how, when, and where obtained. The medical examiners had already put in their report; which completely cleared Dr Lamson from the charge of taking the young lady’s life—atrophy of the heart having been at length unanimously decided by them as the cause of her death. The new evidence of the doctor’s innocence satisfied the coroner’s jury ; and the case, that came so near being carried tc, the criminal court, eras thus abruptly brought to a close. But although Dr Lamson’s character was vindicated, and no one any longer coupled his name with the crime of murder, still a a certain odium attached to it, on account of his taking the ten thousand pounds legacy—which in due course of the will’s administration was paid over to him. In the end, finding residence in E no longer either pleasant or profitable, he disappeared from the place—having gone, as was supposed, under a changed name, to Australia. As for Nudin, he went in the same direction—though not willingly. His attempt to extort money, in such a cowardly as well as treacherous manner, so impressed a criminal judge and jury as for ten years to deprive the traitor of his personal liberty, and procure him a free passage to the penal settlement of Tasmania. The quiet seaside town of E has since become a populous and popular wateringplace : but, among its oldest inhabitants, there are many who remember the incidents above detailed, and can vouch for the truth of this story of the Pierced Heart.