Mildred Arkell Volume Iii Part 16

"I am sure I saw it," replied Mr. Omer.

"Were you alone?"

"I looked over the book alone. Hunt, the clerk of the church, was present in the vestry."

"It must appear to the jury as a singular thing that you only, and n.o.body else, should have seen this mysterious entry," continued Serjeant Siftem.

"Perhaps n.o.body else looked for it; they'd have seen it if they had,"

shortly returned the witness, who felt himself an aggrieved man, and spoke like one, since Mynn and Mynn had publicly accused him that day of having gone down to St. James's in his sleep, and seen the entry in a dream alone.

"Does it not strike you, witness, as being extraordinary that this one particular entry, professed to have been seen by your eyes, and by yours alone, should have been abstracted from a book safely kept under lock and key?" pursued Serjeant Siftem. "I am mistaken if it would not strike an intelligent man as being akin to an impossibility."

"No, it does not strike me so. But events, hard of belief, happen sometimes. I swear the marriage was in the book last November: why it is not there now, is the extraordinary part of the affair."

It was no use to cross-examine the witness further; he was cross and obstinate, and persisted in his story. Serjeant Siftem dismissed him; and Hunt was called, the clerk of the church, who came hobbling in.

The old man rambled in his evidence, but the point of it was, that he didn't believe any abstraction had been made, not he; it must be a farce to suppose it; a crotchet of that great lawyer, Fauntleroy; how could the register be touched when he himself kept it sure and sacred, the key of the safe in a hiding-place in the vestry, and the key of the church hanging up in his own house, outside his kitchen door? His rector said it had been robbed, and in course he couldn't stand out to his face as it hadn't, but he were upon his oath now, and must speak the truth without shrinking.

Serjeant Wrangle rose. "Did the witness mean to tell the court that he never saw or read the entry of the marriage?"

"No, he never did. He never heard say as it were there, and he never looked."

"But you were present when the witness Omer examined the register?"

persisted Serjeant Wrangle.

"Master Omer wouldn't have got to examine it, unless I had been,"

retorted Hunt to Serjeant Wrangle. "I was a-sitting down in the vestry, a-nursing of my leg, which were worse than usual that day; it always is in damp weather, and--"

"Confine yourself to evidence," interrupted the judge.

"Well, sir, I was a-nursing of my leg whilst Master Omer looked into the book. I don't know what he saw there; he didn't say; and when he had done looking I locked it safe up again."

"Did you see him make an extract from it?" demanded Serjeant Wrangle.

"Yes, I saw him a-writing' something down in his pocket-book."

"Have you ever entrusted the key of the safe to strange hands?"

"I wouldn't do such a thing," angrily replied the witness. "I never gave it to n.o.body, and never would; there's not a soul knows where it is to be found, but me, and the rector, and the other clergyman, Mr.

Prattleton, what comes often to do the duty. I couldn't say as much for the key of the church, which sometimes goes beyond my custody, for the rector allows one or two of the young college gents to go in to play the organ. By token, one on 'em--the quietest o' the pair, it were, too--flung in that very key on to our kitchen floor, and shivered our cat's beautiful chaney saucer into seven atoms, and my missis----"

"That is not evidence," again interrupted the judge.

Nothing more, apparently, that was evidence, could be got from the witness, so he was dismissed.

Call the Reverend Mr. Wilberforce.

The Reverend Mr. Wilberforce, rector of St. James the Less, minor canon and sacrist of Westerbury Cathedral, and head-master of the collegiate school, came forward, and was sworn.

"You are the rector of St. James the Less?" said Serjeant Wrangle.

"I am," replied Mr. Wilberforce.

"Did you ever see the entry of Robert Carr's marriage with Martha Ann Hughes in the church's register."

"Yes, I did." Serjeant Siftem p.r.i.c.ked up his ears.

"When did you see it?"

"On the 7th of last November."

"How do you fix the date, Mr. Wilberforce?" inquired, the judge, recognising him as the minor canon who had officiated in the chanter's desk the previous day in the cathedral.

"I had been marrying a couple that morning, my lord, the 7th. After I had entered their marriage, I turned back and looked for the registry of Robert Carr's, and I found it and read it."

"What induced you to look for it?" asked the counsel.

"I had heard that his marriage was discovered to have taken place at St.

James's, and that it was recorded in the register;" and Mr. Wilberforce then told how he had heard it. "Curiosity induced me to turn back and read it," he continued.

"You both saw it and read it?" continued Serjeant Wrangle.

"I both saw it and read it," replied Mr. Wilberforce.

"Then you testify that it was undoubtedly there?"

"Most certainly it was."

"The reverend gentleman will have the goodness to remember that he is upon his oath," cried Serjeant Siftem, impudently bobbing up.

"_Sir!_" was the indignant rebuke of the clergyman. "You forget to whom you are speaking," he added, amidst the dead silence of the court.

"Can you remember the words written?" resumed Serjeant Wrangle.

"The entry was properly made; in the same manner that the others were, of that period. Robert Carr and Martha Ann Hughes had signed it; also her brother and sister as witnesses."

"You have no doubt that the entry was there, then, Mr. Wilberforce?"

observed the judge.

"My lord," cried the reverend gentleman, somewhat nettled at the question, "I can believe my own eyes. I am not more certain that I am now giving evidence before your lordship, than I am that the marriage was in the register."

"It is not in now?" said the judge.

"No, my lord; it must have been cleverly abstracted."

"The whole leaf, I presume?" said Serjeant Wrangle.

"Undoubtedly. The marriage entered below Robert Carr's was that of Sir Thomas Ealing: I read that also, with its long string of witnesses: that is also gone."