The Nine of Hearts

"Something of horror, you say."

"It was my impression, and I cannot account for it. Not so with his bewilderment and astonishment. To my mind they are easily explained."

"He asked no questions concerning the card?" remarked Dr. Daincourt.

"He asked no questions," said the lawyer, somewhat irritably, "concerning a hundred matters upon which the witnesses should have been hardly pressed. Can you not see that this accentuates my conviction that the Nine of Hearts is a link in the chain?"

"Yes, supposing you had not already arrived at a false conclusion with respect to poor Layton's knowledge of the possession of the card."

"I will stake my life and reputation," said the lawyer, earnestly, "upon the correctness of my conclusion. I will stake my life and reputation that, until that moment, Edward Layton did not know that the card was in his pocket."

"Then somebody must have placed it there."

"As you say, somebody must have placed it there."

"But in the name of all that is reasonable," exclaimed Dr. Daincourt, "what possible connection can you trace between a playing-card, whether it be the ace of clubs, or the king of spades, or the nine of hearts-it matters not which-what possible connection can you find between any playing-card and the awful charge brought against Layton?"

"That," said the lawyer, drumming upon the table with his fingers, "is what I have to discover. You do not know, doctor, upon what slight threads the most important issues hang."

"I think I do," said Dr. Daincourt, with a smile.

"I do not refer to the general issues of human life," said the lawyer, in explanation; "I refer to legal matters, especially to criminal cases the solution of which rests upon circumstantial evidence. Circumstances the most remote, and apparently absolutely worthless and trivial, have been woven by a legal mind into a strand strong and firm enough to drag a prisoner out of the very jaws of death."

"And this Nine of Hearts is one of those slender threads?" said Dr. Daincourt, in a tone of incredulous inquiry.

"Very likely. You may depend I shall not lose sight of it."

"You spoke of two links," said Dr. Daincourt, "and you have shown me that which you believe to be a tangible one. What is the link which you say is shadowy and less dependable?"

"I will explain. The jury were discharged, being unable to agree upon their verdict. It may leak out through the press by-and-by-pretty much everything does leak out through the press nowadays-but it is not known at present to the public how many of the jury were for pronouncing the prisoner guilty, and how many for pronouncing him innocent."

"I have heard rumors," said Dr. Daincourt.

"I," said the lawyer, "have positive information. Eleven of them declared him guilty, one only held out that he was innocent. Arguments, persuasions, logical inferences and deductions, the recapitulation of the evidence against him-all were of no avail in this one juryman's eyes. He would not be convinced; he would not yield. He had made up his mind that the prisoner was innocent, and that he, at least, would not be instrumental in sending him from the dock a felon."

"I can see nothing in that," said Dr. Daincourt.

"There are," continued the lawyer, "in civil and criminal records, instances of a like nature, some of which have been privately sifted, with strange results, after the cases have been finally settled. I recollect one case which may bear upon this of Layton's. I do not say it does, but it may. It occurred many years ago, and the jury were locked up a barbarous length of time without being able to come to an agreement. There was no possible doubt, circumstantially, of the prisoner's guilt; the evidence was conclusive enough to convict twenty men. One person, however, would not give in, and that person was on the jury. The prisoner was tried again, and unhesitatingly acquitted. During the time that had elapsed between the first and second trials additional evidence was found which proved the prisoner to be innocent. The juryman who held out on the first trial happened to have been some years before a friend of the prisoner, a fact, of course, which was not known when the jury were empanelled. After the result of the second trial he publicly declared that he had been guided by his feelings and not by the evidence."

"And you think that something of the sort may have happened in this case?"

"Had you been on the jury, what would have been your verdict?"

"Guilty."

"Had I been on the jury, what would have been my verdict? Despite my firm conviction that Layton is an innocent man, I should have brought him in guilty. It was not my opinion I had to be guided by, it was the evidence and the evidence in Layton's case, as it was presented to the court and appears in the papers, indisputably proclaims him to be a guilty man. Again, when the verdict was pronounced I watched his face; again I saw there a startled look of wonder and astonishment; to his own mind the evidence against him was conclusive. Then it was that I observed him for the first time gaze upon the jury with some kind of interest and attention. Not once during the trial had he looked at them in any but a casual way, and I should not be surprised to learn that he was ignorant of their names. This is most unusual. Ordinarily a prisoner pays great attention to the jury upon whose verdict his fate hangs. He gazes upon them with deepest anxiety, he notes every change in their countenances, is despondent when he believes it to be against him, is hopeful when he 'believes it to be in his favor. Not so with Layton. When the jury were empanelled, and their names called over, he paid not the slightest attention to them he did not turn his eyes towards them; he might have been both deaf and blind for all the interest he evinced."

"Perhaps you are not aware," said the doctor, "that he is very short-sighted, and that without his glasses it would have been impossible for him to distinguish their features."

"I am quite aware of it," said the lawyer "but he had his glasses hanging round his neck, and it is remarkable that not once during the trial did he put them to his eyes. I have here," and the lawyer tapped his pocket-book, "a list of the names, social standing, and businesses or professions of the jurymen engaged on this Layton mystery. As regards only one of them is my information incomplete. I know their ages, whether they are married or single, whether they have families, etc. I know something more-I know the name of the one man who would not subscribe to the verdict of guilty which the other eleven, almost without leaving the box, were ready to pronounce. Curiously enough, this dissentient is the person respecting whom I have not yet complete particulars. I am acquainted with his name, but have not been supplied with his address. I shall, however, obtain it easily, if I require it."

"What is his name?" asked Dr. Daincourt.

"James Rutland," replied the lawyer.

At this moment there was a knock at the door, and a man-servant made his appearance.

"A telegraph lad, sir," said the servant, "has brought this message, and is waiting to know whether it is correct, and whether there is any answer. He says he has been to your rooms in the Temple, and was directed on here to your private address, the instructions being that the message was to be delivered immediately, either at your professional or private residence."

Mr. Bainbridge opened the telegram and read it. It was unusually lengthy, and from the expression of his face appeared to cause him great surprise.

"Let the lad wait in the hall," he said to his servant, "and you come up the moment I ring."

"Very well, sir," said the servant, and he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

"I have been taking a leaf out of your book," said Dr. Daincourt. "You seem to learn so much from observing the faces of people, that I have been rude enough to watch your face while you were perusing the telegram."

"What have you learned?" asked the lawyer.

"Nothing," replied Dr. Daincourt, smiling, "except that it appears almost as long as a letter, and that it has caused you surprise."

"It has caused me something more than that-it has absolutely startled me."

"You must forgive my rudeness. I spoke lightly, not seriously. If you have anything particular to attend to, don't mind me I will go."

"No," said the lawyer, "I want you, and I think you will be as startled as I am myself. This is a cable message from Pittsburg, America, and, as you judged, it is more like a letter than a telegram. See, it covers three sides of paper I will read it to you:

"'From Archibald Laing, Box 1236, P. 0., Pittsburg, U. S., to Mr. Bainbridge, Q. C., London.

"'Reports of the result of Edward Layton's trial for the murder of his wife have been cabled here and published in the papers. There will, of course, be a new trial. If at or before that new trial you establish Layton's innocence, I hold myself accountable to you for a fee of twenty-five thousand dollars. If you will employ yourself to that end, I have cabled to Messrs. Morgan & Co., bankers, Threadneedle Street, to pay upon your demand the sum of ten thousand dollars, five thousand dollars of which are your retaining fee, the other five thousand being an instalment towards any preliminary expenses you may incur. This sum of ten thousand dollars is independent of the twenty-five thousand mentioned above, and of course your own professional bill of costs will be paid in addition. Messrs. Morgan & Co. are empowered to advance you any further sums that may be necessary for your investigations. Set every engine afoot to obtain the acquittal of Edward Layton spare no expense. If a million dollars is necessary, it is at your command. Send to me by every mail full and detailed accounts of your movements and proceedings; omit nothing, and make your own charge for this and for everything else you perform in the task I ask you as a favor to undertake. Your reply immediately by cable will oblige, and, up to one hundred words, is prepaid. I do not wish Edward Layton to know that I have requested your mediation on his behalf. It is a matter entirely and confidentially between you and me. I write to you by the outgoing mail. Perhaps you may obtain some useful information from a Mr. James Rutland I cannot furnish you with the gentleman's address, but Edward Layton and he were once friends.'"

Dr. Daincourt drew a deep breath.

"Startling indeed," he said. "This Archibald Laing must be the man of whom we have heard as making an immense fortune by speculating at the right moment in the silver-mines. If so, he is good for millions. Do you know anything of him?"

"Not personally," replied the lawyer; "only from report and hearsay. He is an Englishman, and must be an amazingly shrewd fellow; and that he is in earnest is partly proved by this cable, in which no words are spared to make his meaning clear."

While he was speaking to his friend, the lawyer was busily engaged writing upon a blank telegraph form, which was enclosed in the envelope delivered by the messenger.

"What will you do in the matter?" asked Dr. Daincourt.

"Here is my reply," said the lawyer, and he read it aloud:

",From Mr. Bainbridge, Q.C. Harley Street, London, to Archibald Laing,Box 1236, P. 0., Pittsburg, U. S.

"'Your cable received. I undertake the commission, and will use every effort to establish Layton's innocence, in which I firmly believe. There is a mystery in the matter, and I will do my best to get at the heart of it. I will write to you as you desire.'"

He touched the bell and the servant appeared.