The Court of Cacus Part 7

This _bonhommie_ was perfectly genuine, not more the result of the universal favour with which he was regarded than of heartfelt kindliness, and a robust health independent of all weathers.

Another peculiarity consisted in the importance he attached to his bra.s.s snuff-box and spoon, which he always carried about with him, and used with great economy, and with so much of selection, that while many might be favoured with the smile and the bow, it was only a very select few, princ.i.p.ally favourites among the young collegians, to whom he condescended to offer a spoonful of his rapee. Though undoubtedly imbecile, and incapable of any continuous mental effort, he possessed a small portion of intellect, never exhibiting any of the vagaries of his cla.s.s. He kept up a correct knowledge of the days of the month and week,--a species of learning of which he was very proud,--and even went far beyond this in a certain facility he had in calculating the day on which any feast or commemoration would take place; so that to the students and boys he served as a kind of walking calendar. He had musical talents too, so well appreciated, that he was often called upon to entertain his juvenile acquaintances with a song, which he executed in tolerable style. In addition to all these recommendations, he was scrupulously clean in his person, changing his linen, it was said, three times a week; and his hands and feet, though always uncovered, appearing as having been carefully washed before he came out.

It was stated at the time that almost all the naturals then recollected on the streets of the city had met with violent or untimely deaths. There was Bobby Auld, who may yet be remembered as being a great crony of Jamie's.

Bobby was killed by the kick of an a.s.s, and fell into the hands of Dr Monro. Some others were mentioned. Nothing was more curious than to witness a forgathering between these two. They talked about affairs in general with the greatest complacency, not hesitating to criticise each other's knowledge or perspicacity--even venturing the word _fool_ when the detected ignorance or error warranted the liberty. It is narrated that on one occasion Bobby and Jamie met accidentally in the neighbourhood of the Gra.s.smarket. "It's a cauld day, Bobby." "Ay is't, Jamie. Wudna we be the better o' a dram? hae ye ony siller, man? I hae tippence." "And I hae fourpence," says Jamie. "Ou, man," rejoins the other, "that'll get a haill mutchkin." And away they went to a neighbouring public-house, where the money having been first shewn as a necessary security, the whisky was demanded with great dignity, and placed before them But before either of them had tasted the liquor, "Lord, man," said Bobby, "did ye see the twa dougs fechtin' on the street? They're no dune yet; I hear their growling and their biting." "No," replied Jamie, "I saw nae dougs fechtin'." "It's a grand sight, though," continued the other natural. "It has lasted half-an-hour, an's weel worth seeing. I wud advise ye to gang to the door and see it, for ye'll maybe never see the like again, in this world at least." Then Jamie proceeded unsuspiciously, for he had no guile or cunning about him, to see this wonderful dog-fight; but speedily returned with the information that he could see nothing of the kind. "They'll just be dune, then," coolly observed Bobby. "But what's come o' the whisky?"

said Jamie, as he opened wide his eyes on the stoup standing empty. "Ou, man," was the treacherous reply, "ye see I couldna wait." Upon Jamie's being questioned how he had revenged this foul play, his answer was in perfect character,--"Ou, what could ye say to puir Bobby? He's daft, ye ken."

Though much inferior to his crony in trickery--of which, indeed, he had none--Jamie was much his superior in intellect and knowledge. His father is said to have been a decent religious man, who took him regularly to a place of worship in the Old Town on the Sabbaths; and Jamie, perhaps from habit, continued as regularly to keep up the practice. On one occasion, when examined by a worthy elder of the congregation, it was said that Jamie not only shewed far more knowledge than could have been expected from him, but turned the tables upon his querist, putting considerably more than the old theological questions of the _enfants terribles_, which no one has been able to answer any more than our learned elder. And then, to crown all, there was the parting valediction, "If ye wud like ony mair information, Mr ----, ye ken brawly whaur to fin' me."

One morning in the month of September or early in October of the same year, Jamie was, as usual, wandering about in the Gra.s.smarket, giving his bow and twitch of the lock to any superior person he met; for he well knew the differences of caste, considering himself far above the lowest, if not even up to the line which he drew between the giving and the withholding of the bra.s.s box and the spoon. Kindly affected towards his mother,--to whose love in return he was indebted for the clean way in which he was kept, and many attentions, for which, by a wise providence, the natural comes in, as if for compensation, to the exclusion of his brothers and sisters,--Jamie was looking for his parent. At this time he was observed by Mrs Hare,[9] who, going up as she had often done before, asked him who he was looking for. "My mither," was the answer; "hae ye seen her ony gait?" "Ay," said the woman, "she's in my house." And with this temptation she induced him to go with her. They were soon in the old den--Log's lodgings--where Hare himself was crouching for prey. Behold Jamie introduced to the court with the old honour--the fatal wink! There left with one who would take special care that he would not escape, the woman, as a provider of another kind--for she catered for life as well as death--went to Mr Rymer's shop to get some b.u.t.ter, and it chanced that Burke was at the time standing beside the counter. She then asked her friend, who, as we have said, was now in other lodgings, for a dram, which was accordingly handed to her by Mr Rymer, and when she was drinking it off, she stamped with her foot upon Burke's, as if to tell him that he was wanted. He knew instantly the meaning of the sign, having previously seen her leading Jamie, to use his own words, as a dumb lamb to the slaughter.

The moment she departed, he followed; and when he entered, he was accosted by Mrs Hare with the words, "You have come too late; the whisky is all done." At this time, Jamie was sitting in the front room, with the cup (used for a gla.s.s) in his hand, smiling and talking, and every now and then looking round for the entry of his mother. Hare was alongside of him, and Burke took a seat opposite. It was proposed to send for another half-mutchkin, and this having been procured, they invited Jamie to the fatal back room with the window looking out on the dead wall.

On getting him into the apartment, they advised him to sit down on the front of the bed, to which he a.s.sented; and Hare's wife, after getting some of the spirits, went out, and locked the door quietly, and put the key in through an opening below it, supposed to have been made for the purpose. Now was the time to tempt Jamie with the whisky; but to their utter disappointment, they found that he would drink no more than he had done, and that scarcely amounted to a gla.s.s. It was his mother he wanted, and for her he repeatedly called, in those accents of yearning which, though coming from a youth, had, in perfect consistency with his nature, all the pathos of infantine simplicity. Alas! there was no mother there.

Even the woman, who might have understood the yearning,--for she was herself a mother,--had locked him in with demons. The two men were driven out of their reckoning by Jamie's refusal to drink, and were necessitated to manoeuvre; but in any view, they had a young and strong individual to deal with, and they knew, from prior experience, that unless aided by the effects of drink, they must lay their account with a desperate resistance.

No effort was left untried to get Jamie to take more whisky, but still with the unsuccessful result. As yet kindly to him, he did not suspect them; and, at length, so far overcome even by the small quant.i.ty of spirits he had drunk, he lay down on the bed and fell asleep. But this state, which even in the most wicked has the appearance of innocence, was to be no guard against those to whom the old proverb so well applied,--"_Somnus absit ab oculis_." Yes, they required to be awake, for they had _work_ to do. They must kill a young, full-blooded youth, without the use of a lethal weapon, and without leaving a mark. They must wrestle to do this against the piteous appeals of innocence from one G.o.d-stricken, and who had never injured human being. They must do it with the ferocity of the striped lord of the jungle; they must do it without the help or the excuse of revenge; they must do it with the ingenuity of an artist.

Burke, who was up to the pitch of mammon's inspiration, and all the more that he had been fretted by being so far foiled by an idiot, sat watching his opportunity. The two were silent, only occasionally looking at each other, and then at Jamie, as he lay still sleeping on the bed. At length Burke said, "Shall we do it now?" to which Hare replied, "He is too strong for you yet." Burke accordingly waited a little, as probably misgivings crossed him that the conflict would be too furious to risk, and the noise might attract attention at that hour. Jamie got some more moments to live.

But this could not continue long; nor did it. Burke, become hot with impatience, suddenly threw himself upon the still sleeping simpleton, and, clutching him by the neck, attempted to strangle him. The onset roused the instinctive energies of the lad, who had sense enough to see his danger. The fear which in other circ.u.mstances would have made him run to avoid his enemies, seemed to pa.s.s into courage, and nerve him to sudden desperation. He clutched his a.s.saulter with great force--his eye darted forth his fury--the mantling foam stood upon his lips like a lather--and throwing off the tiger with a bound, he sprang to the floor, stood erect, and awaited another onset. Nor did he wait long. Burke, in his turn, roused by opposition to the height of his wrath, again seized him, with the intention to throw him; but Jamie had the greater strength, and, besides, he fought for his life, so that he was again likely to become the master, when Burke cried out to Hare, who had hitherto kept back, as if afraid to enter into the struggle, to come forward and a.s.sist him, otherwise "I will stick a knife in you." The threat had its effect, for Hare, rushing forward at the very moment when Jamie was mastering his enemy, tripped up his heels, and laid him on his back on the floor. Not a moment was now to be lost, as the continued thumping and knocking against the furniture and the screams of the lad might reach the Close, and they must do their work, as we have said, without a knife, (which would have quickly brought matters to a termination,) otherwise no price at Surgeon's Square. The next moment saw Burke extended upon the body of the still struggling simpleton, while Hare, at his head, was engaged in the old process of holding the nose and mouth. Even after this, it was still a struggle of considerable duration. The men were sweating and breathing loud with their mere efforts to kill, and Burke, roused to fury, was often thrown off, only to spring again with greater ferocity. By and by, Jamie's struggles got weaker and weaker--relapses into stillness--wild upraisings again--spasmodic jerks of effort--those indescribable sounds which the doctors say attend cynanche--all receding gradually to the last sign. Nor did they quit their grasp till they were pretty sure they had effected their purpose. They hung over him--listened for breathings--made surety surer. Daft Jamie is dead!

This was beyond all question the most imprudent of all the acts of these terrible beings. Without supposing them mad, it is hardly possible to imagine that they could place before young men of the College, who were in the daily habit of conversing with their victim, a body which could scarcely fail to be recognised upon the instant. Yet on that very day it was put into a chest and conveyed to the rooms, where, _after examination_, it brought the price of 10. Burke, when he rose up after being satisfied that Jamie was dead, rifled his pockets, and took out the small box and the spoon, giving the spoon to Hare, and keeping the box to himself. The clothes he gave to his brothers children, who, when the bundle was unbound, fell to fighting about them; connected with which part of an atrocity which the paper will scarcely bear the impression of, is the curious fact that a baker some time after recognised upon one of Constantine Burke's sons a pair of trousers he had not long before given to Jamie. But here, again, though the mother of the lad, distracted by his sudden disappearance, ran about searching and inquiring everywhere for her poor boy, and though it was circulated that one of Dr Knox's students had affirmed that he saw Jamie on the dissecting-table, no suspicion of the manner in which he had been disposed of was ever hinted, till the final discovery, which arose out of another case. Yet it is certain that even before this event there had begun to move an under-current of uneasiness in the public mind, and even some dark hints appeared in the public prints; not that any of these pointed to anything of a defined character, but that they gradually gave rise to a suspicion that there was some great secret to be unfolded--what, no one could tell, no one even surmise--which would startle the public ear, and lay open some terrible conspiracy.

Theories flew about in various guises, all as dark as they were ridiculous. Some said that there existed somewhere in the city a secret a.s.sociation of men, bound together by a fearful oath to avenge fancied wrongs by a crusade against society, and that the members prowled about at night for their victims, which they immolated amidst oaths and curses.

Others, still more wild, whispered that the missing individuals were slaughtered and eaten by a gang of famished wretches, who having once tasted human flesh, got keen upon the zest. Sawney Bean and Christie of the Cleik rose up again, and became what they had been in olden times, the bugbears of grown children. And, however ridiculous all these fancies might appear after the disclosure of the true secret, it cannot be denied that even sensible people, who looked sharply into human nature, and were not utterly sceptical of the old legends, might, without the charge of being fanciful, be led into thoughts which they would otherwise have been ashamed of. The fact that so many individuals, old and young, had disappeared within so short a time, without a trace being left, and in many cases with their clothes lying unclaimed, remained to be accounted for, and there was no experience to guide, and no theory of human nature to explain. After all, was it possible that any supposition could transcend, yea, come up to the reality?

The Brisk Little Old Woman.

It has been stated that Burke went to live in the house occupied by the man called Broggan. This house, after Broggan's departure, continued to be possessed by the lodger and his paramour. In a land to the eastward of that occupied by Hare in Tanner's Close, you reached it after descending a common stair, and turning to the right, where a dark pa.s.sage conducted to several rooms, at the end, and at right angles with which pa.s.sage, there was a trance leading solely to Burke's room, and which could be closed by a door, so as to make it altogether secluded from the main entry. The room was a very small place, more like a cellar than the dwelling of a human being. A crazy chair stood by the fireplace; old shoes and implements for shoemaking lay scattered on the floor; a cupboard against the wall held a few plates and bowls; and two beds, coa.r.s.e wooden frames without posts or curtains, were filled with old straw and rags; so that of the money which the parties had received no part had ever been devoted to any other purpose than meat and drink, after allowing for the expense of the transitory effort on the part of the women to appear better dressed.

On the morning of a certain day of December, Burke chances again to be in the shop of Mr Rymer, where he saw a poor beggar woman asking for alms, whose brogue revealed that she was one of his country-women. The old story, you will say. Yes, alas! the old story, but with a difference. She would be garrulous--are not all poor people so?--yet the good heart admits that there is some cause for garrulity where there are wants to supply and no one willing to lend an ear. She would tell Burke, who had accosted her with the old accents of sympathy, that she had come over to Scotland to seek for her son. So straightway the sympathiser's name becomes Docherty, and he would be glad to shew kindness to his country-woman, whom he accordingly invited to his house. The proposal was accepted on the instant, and, Burke leading the way, they proceeded to this asylum, which had so miraculously come in the way of one who had no place she could call a home upon earth. On their arrival, the old play begins. Burke sets before her a breakfast, and, having left Helen M'Dougal to attend to her wants, he went straightway to find his a.s.sociate, whom he informed that he had got "a shot in the house," a piece of information always welcome to that fearful man. Meanwhile Helen M'Dougal performed her part. At the very first appearance of the poor stranger she knew the fate that awaited her, and yet she set her to work in the cleaning of the house--a duty which the woman would cheerfully undertake out of pure grat.i.tude to those who had thus generously taken in the weary wanderer and filled her empty stomach, yea, promised her harbourage for a time.

Hours pa.s.sed, during which, in the absence of Burke, who would appear in due time, the two females were feminine, for they were engaged in acts which, as the natural work of their instincts, const.i.tute so far the difference between the s.e.xes; nor was the friendship which these acts were calculated to cement and strengthen to be weakened, in the estimation of the guest, by the arrival, in the evening, of Burke and Hare, and the latter's wife--a jolly crew, who could render compatible, again as so often before, the orgies of a wild mirth with the foreseen doom of the one round whom these orgies were celebrated. When these parties entered, there were in the house a person of the name of Gray and his wife, who had been for some time lodgers with Burke. It was necessary that these persons, who could not be trusted, should not sleep there that night, and Burke accordingly went out to seek lodgings for them, whereupon, at a certain hour, they departed, taking with them some suspicion that their banishment from their quarters did not quadrate with the excuse that a wandering beggar, albeit represented as a relative, should take their place, if they had not some other grounds, derived from particular observations, to lead them to a thought which was destined to be the original spark to raise into conflagration a long collected ma.s.s of rottenness.

On the departure of the Grays, the saturnalia preceding the sacrifice commenced, and the scene was too fraught with enjoyment for the females, always ready for scenes of excitement, to be absent. The inevitable whisky was brought, and the poor stranger, to whom it would be as warmth to a heart cold enough from poverty and privations, must partake. And now there was to be one of those apparent inconsistencies which the one string of catgut exhibits in every day of our lives. If the joyous scene was to finish by the death of her around whom, and for whom, it was celebrated, surely the more remote it was kept from observing eyes the safer; so says prudence, but prudence forgets that she belongs exclusively to the natural and the rational, and like all reasoners who argue from _egoism_ to _tuism_, she expects abnormals to follow her maxims, which appear to them to be as abnorm as they are to her. So while their spirits are up, as well from the stimulant of drink as from that of the coming sacrifice, they go, whither the destined victim had preceded them, into the neighbouring apartment, occupied by a Mrs Connoway. There the scene was continued, or rather begun afresh. More drink was brought by M'Dougal, and the enjoyment was elevated into the alt.i.tudes of dithyrambism. Songs were sung, accompanied by a chorus of hoa.r.s.e, broken voices, among which the _tremula_ of the "brisk" little old woman mixed its quavers, till at length they all rose and danced. This scene continued for a considerable time, when they left. It was now eleven o'clock, and they were all again in their old quarters.

We have already seen that it formed a part of their plan of a.s.sault that some of the parties should quarrel and fight--the confusion thus produced being the opportunity of the a.s.sault. And the scheme was not departed from on this occasion. In the heat of the pretended _melee_ the little old woman, who had interfered on behalf of Burke, because he had been "kind to her," was cast down by force, for she had not drunk so much as they wanted her to do, and by keeping her senses had driven them to the necessity of the fighting prelude. This was the sign. The women, in the knowledge of the approaching struggle, hurry out of the room. At the very moment, Burke throws himself, with all the desperation of his purpose, on the body of the prostrate woman, clutching her by the throat, while his companion, bounding to his help, joins his energies in the old way, so that by the combination of powers utterly beyond resistance, she was held for full fifteen minutes, until, amidst the silence of deep hush and listening, they thought her dead. Not yet. They were deceived: there was more life than they counted upon in the little old woman, and the signs of reaction, as nature vindicated her guardship of the spirit, challenged a further effort. The weight and compression were renewed, and continued till there could be no doubt. The little old woman was dead, and in an instant after doubled up and thrown among a parcel of straw there for the purpose, in a corner of the room, between the foot of the bed and the wall.

When they were satisfied that the act had been accomplished, the women returned from the dark pa.s.sage; whereupon Burke--it was now about twelve--went to the residence of Dr Knox's curator of the rooms, who lived near by, and bringing him along with him, pointed to the straw, and said, "There is a subject for you, which will be ready in the morning." After the departure of the curator, the party sat down to begin again their debauch, in the course of which they were joined by a young man called Broggan, when the revelry being continued, was carried on till four or five in the morning, at which time the two women lay down in bed, with Broggan alongside of them. Next morning, and after Hare and his wife had left for their own house, Mr Gray and his wife, who had slept there during the night, returned to Burke's, in consequence of an invitation given them by him to come to breakfast. On entering the house, they looked for the little old woman, and were surprised that she was not to be seen.

Thereafter Mrs Gray having, during a search for her child's stockings, approached the bundle of straw, was met by Burke coming forward and intercepting her, by crying, "Keep out there!" with a _nod_. Broggan was then requested by Burke to sit on a chair so situated as to guard the straw, and prevent an approach; but during the day he deserted his post, and Mrs Gray, still more satisfied that there was something to be discovered, took the earliest opportunity of a search. The dissipation had driven all the actors right and left, so that at length the coast was clear. a.s.sisted by her husband, she began to remove the straw, and the first thing she touched was the arm of the dead woman. They then examined the body, which was entirely naked, and discovered that the mouth and a part of the face were covered with blood. They had seen enough, and thought it high time to get out of that house--a purpose they were in the course of executing when they met Helen M'Dougal on the stair. Gray immediately told her he had seen the dead body, whereupon she got alarmed, implored him to hold his tongue, and said that if he did it would be worth ten pounds a week to him; but the man was honest, and replied, "G.o.d forbid that I should have that on my conscience!"[10]

Now, at last, the great secret had got into a mind true to G.o.d and nature; and here you have to mark, with grat.i.tude to Him who takes His own time to bring evil to light and crime to retribution, the beginning of the end of all these terrible evils.

The Discovery.

The records of human actions, though so often blotted by stains of blood shed by the power of money, have, as we have observed, seldom shewn more than some one individual act of violence. We exclude, of course, those which set forth the actions of regularly-organised banditti; and even there the robberies with mere violence form the general theme,--the cases of killing being the exception. Here again we see the agent not only working its wonders in the four actors, but extending its influence all around in closing up the issues of discovery. The bribe offered by Helen M'Dougal to Gray, gives us a further insight into this collateral part of the conspiracy; and while we have the young man Broggan clearly enough brought in as an additional confidant, we cannot avoid the conclusion that he too had been got over by the all-powerful agent. Nor can we account for the conduct of one more, who came into the scene at a still later period, by anything short of this paid "winking toleration."

In the evening, after Gray and his wife left the house, the body of the little old woman, which had been seen by them, was despatched to Surgeon's Square in a manner somewhat different from that of the others. Indeed, during the whole of this day, all the actors appear to have been deranged, hurrying hither and thither without definite aim, as if under the influence of a demon. The invitation to breakfast given to the Grays; the nod of Burke when he scared Mrs Gray from the straw; the imprudent watch committed to Broggan, and, above all, the leaving of the house with the body lying in the corner, and the Grays there, so evidently upon the alert, can only be accounted for on the supposition of frenzy. The new element of the discovery made by the Grays, with the threatened communication to the authorities made by the husband, was calculated to aggravate that restlessness, so much better expressed by the German word _verwirrung_. The nest was fluttered: all went to and fro, but whether it was that the main chance could not, even by all this confusion and fear, be driven from their minds, or that they saw the pressing necessity of getting the body quickly out of the house, Burke hastened and engaged a porter of the name of M'Culloch to convey the tea-chest, already procured, with its burden, to Surgeon's Square. When the man came in the evening, the body was not even put into the chest, and so confused and irresolute were the two princ.i.p.als, that M'Culloch was obliged to help the packing.

He saw and handled the body,--forced it down with much pressure, and, even when he was on the point of getting it upon his shoulders, he noticed an oversight to which the others were blind. A part of the hair stuck out, and so, with great caution, this careful cadie took the trouble to put all to rights.

Meanwhile, the other harpies, under the prevailing restlessness and flutter, were on the watch. M'Culloch, with the burden, sallied forth by the Cowgate to find his way to the top of the High School Wynd, where he was to be met by Burke. When half way up that pa.s.sage, he was joined by Burke and Helen M'Dougal, and before he got to the Square, Hare and his wife were there, so that all the four were thus, and on this occasion of delivery only, drawn together by the double motive of clutching the money, and the apprehensions enveloped in the long-reaching shadow of frowning justice. Nor did they stop there. When the burden had been deposited, and M'Culloch requested to go to Newington, where Dr Knox resided, to get his five shilling fee for his winking toleration, they all set off together, and, though there was some straggling and separating, the women never lost sight of the men. Arrived at Newington, Dr Knox's curator took the princ.i.p.als, along with M'Culloch, into a public-house, the women hanging about outside on the watch, and a part of the price, to the extent of 7, 10s. having been paid and divided, the whole party returned to the city.

While all this was going on, the man Gray, having been finally moved to his purpose of informing the authorities of what he had witnessed, and having also seen the removal, had repaired to the Police-office, where, after waiting some time, he saw the officer, John Fisher. To him he detailed what he and his wife had witnessed.[11] The bringing in of the "brisk" little old woman--her good health--the manoeuvre to get him and his wife to sleep at Hare's--so much of the orgie with its dancing and singing as he knew--the disappearance of the stranger in the morning--the discovery of the body under the straw--the blood upon the mouth--the bribe of 10 a-week--the removal of the body. Whereupon Fisher, after despatching his informant before him, repaired to the premises, but he went with no other thought in his mind than that Gray was influenced by spite;--so near again was the conspiracy to an escape from detection. Nor did even what Fisher found and heard tend to awaken him. On getting to the house, he met Burke and M'Dougal, with Gray and another man called Finlay, coming up the stair, and having told Burke that he wanted to speak to them, they all returned to the room. Fisher then began his interrogations.

"Where are all your lodgers?" he said, directing himself to Burke.

"There is one," replied he, pointing to Gray. "I turned him and his wife out for bad conduct."

"But what has become of the little woman who was here yesterday?" he continued.

"She's away."

"When did she leave?"

"About seven o'clock in the _morning_, and Hare will swear he saw her go."

"Any more to swear that?"

"Oh, a number!" replied Burke, insolently.

Whereupon Fisher began to look about the house, and especially the bed, where he saw many marks of blood.

"How came these there?" he inquired at Helen M'Dougal.

"Oh," replied she, confidently, "a woman lay-in there about a fortnight ago, and the bed has not been washed since; and as for the little old woman, she can be found. She lives in the Pleasance, and I saw her to-night in the Vennel."

"And when did she leave this?" he rejoined.

"About seven o'clock _at night_," replied the incautious Helen.

Upon this small discrepancy depended the further prosecution of the inquiry, and, consequently, either the present discovery of the conspiracy, or the continuation of it, with, probably, if possible, increased atrocity, for Fisher was satisfied as to the blood as well as to Gray's spite, and, according to his own a.s.sertion, came to the resolution of taking Burke and M'Dougal to the Office, _only_ on the mere chance ground of their difference about a time of the day. On arriving before the Superintendent, Fisher mentioned what he had seen, and also what he thought; but the superior, quickened by the mention of the blood, which so far, hypothetically, at least, harmonised with Gray's story, took another view. Yet how far was he from suspecting that he had in his very hands the key to that chamber of horrors, the untraceable existence of which had for a time produced so much deep-breathing oppression in the public mind! He immediately paid a visit to the house, along with the police surgeon, Mr Black, and Fisher himself. There they found a stripped bed-gown, which Mrs Law, who came in, stated belonged to the little old woman, and in addition to what Fisher had seen, a quant.i.ty of fresh blood, mixed with _fifteen or sixteen ounces of saliva_, among the straw now under the bed, but which, as we have seen, lay formerly between the end of the bed and the wall.

On the following morning, the same three parties proceeded to Dr Knox's rooms in Surgeon's Square, and having got the curator formerly mentioned, who felt no hesitation in a.s.sisting their inquiries, they were led by him to the cellar. "There is the box," said he, "but I do not know what is in it." On opening it they found the body of a woman quite naked, and Gray having then been sent for, came and identified it as that of the little old woman. Thereupon the body and box were conveyed to the Police-office; and on the day following an examination was conducted by Dr Christison and Dr Newbigging, a.s.sisted by Mr Black, which, according to the conjectures of the first, who as yet knew nothing of the real manner of death, harmonised wonderfully with the _res gesta_. There were several contusions on the legs, probably caused by the heavy shoes of the a.s.sailants--another on the left loin--another on the shoulder-blade--one on the inside of the lip, the consequence of pressure against the teeth, and two upon the head, probably from being knocked against the floor in restraint of efforts to rise. Above all, as an index to the _modus_, there was a ruffling of the scarf skin under the chin, and as a proof of the _force_, a laceration of the ligaments connecting the posterior parts of two of the vertebrae, whereby blood had effused among the spinal muscles as far down as the middle of the back. There was also blood oozing from the mouth and nose.

The body appeared to be that of a healthy person, all the organs of the vital parts being unusually sound. From all which, Dr Christison, and also the two other doctors, drew the conclusion, that the woman had met with a violent death by means of throttling--a form indicated by the ruffling of the skin below the chin as more likely than that of smothering or suffocation. Nor was this conclusion liable to be affected by the fact stated by Mr Black, that many of the intemperate people of the city, and so many that he had seen six cases in the Police-office at one time, were often on the eve of death, nay, altogether deprived of life, through accidental suffocation from drink, produced by chance obstruction of the mouth, or lying with the face on a pillow.

All this information having been obtained, the authorities were at length roused, and the Lord Advocate, it is said, saw at once that he was on the eve of a great discovery, which would explain the recent disappearances.

All secrecy was imposed upon officials, yet in spite of the precaution, parts of the story got currency among the people, and, offering a solution as they did of the prevailing mystery, deepened the awe, while they stimulated the curiosity not of the city only, but the kingdom. Hare and his wife were laid hold of, and inquiries in every direction set on foot and prosecuted. Recourse was had to the culprits, in the hope that some one or more of them would confess, but at first there was no success in this direction, each of them maintaining that they knew nothing of the death of the woman, or the fate of any of the prior victims. On the 3d and 10th of November, Burke and Helen M'Dougal, finding that one fact could not be denied, that a dead body was found in their house, issued declarations whereby a story was trumped up to the effect that it was brought there by a stranger, who called one day to get some work performed by the former; but these were disregarded as inconsistent and ridiculous, and the authorities were left to their scent. The evidence of the Grays was of great importance, and other people were found who could speak to isolated facts. Hugh Alston could swear that at half-past eleven on the night of the 31st of October, when he was going to his house, in the same land where Burke resided, he heard a noise coming from the latter's room--men quarrelling and fighting--(the feint preceding the onslaught)--and amidst the uproar the peculiar voice of a female crying murder, then after some minutes the uproar diminished, and he heard a cry as if proceeding from a person or animal that had been in the act of being strangled. This circ.u.mstance recurred to him, and struck him forcibly next evening, when he heard that a body had been found in that house.

Additional information was got from Mrs Connoway, who occupied a room on the right hand of the main pa.s.sage leading to that other which terminated in Burke's apartment. She remembered that, on Hallowe'en night, Burke brought in with him a little old woman; that, on subsequently going into his house, she saw her there sitting by the fire supping porridge and milk, and upon her saying, "You have got a stranger," M'Dougal replied, "Yes, a Highland woman, a friend of Burke's." In the darkening, the woman came into her house, and she was surprised to hear her calling Burke by the name of Docherty, wherein she corrected her. By and by, Hare and the two women followed, one of the latter having a bottle of whisky, part of which the stranger partook of along with the rest. Thereafter they got merry, when they all rose and danced, the little old woman among the rest.

When the others left, the woman remained till such time as Burke, who was out, should return to his own house, because she trusted to him for protection. During the night she was disturbed by a terrible noise as of a fight; and in the morning, about nine or ten, having gone ben, she found collected Mrs Law, Young, Broggan, M'Dougal, and Burke, the last drinking whisky, and sprinkling it over the bed and the straw, and M'Dougal singing a song. On inquiring where the little old woman was, she was told by Helen that she had kicked her out, because she was "ower freendly" with her husband. Towards six she was called upon by Mrs Gray, who having previously told her of the dead body, asked her to go in and see it, but when she complied, she got so frightened that she turned and ran out.

Further on, her husband told Burke that it was reported that he had murdered the woman; on hearing which he laughed very loud, as well as M'Dougal, who was present, and then said, he "did not regard what all Scotland said of him." Nor did he seem to be in the smallest degree afraid. This information afforded by Mrs Connoway was corroborated to a certain extent by Mrs Law, who occupied a room in the main pa.s.sage opposite to that of the former; and Broggan was willing to go so far as to admit certain things, among the rest, the charge of sitting on the chair opposite to the straw.

Withal though this evidence could leave no doubt on the mind that murder had been committed, it did not amount to proof against any particular person. All that pertained to the disposal of the body at Surgeon's Square was frankly told by the curator; but, with this exception, there was much to complain of as regards the doctors. Knox and his a.s.sistants, all of whom shewed from the beginning a marked, if not determined, refusal to help the authorities in the furtherance of justice. But if all the testimony that could be procured in support of the charge in this case was insufficient, the deficiency was still greater in regard to those of Mary Paterson and Daft Jamie, for unfortunately no one, with the exception of the accomplices and the gentlemen in Surgeon's Square, had seen their dead bodies, or could even say they were dead, so that the _corpus delicti_ was literally little better than a myth. The authorities were therefore placed in a very trying position. The people cried for vengeance; and the Lord Advocate could only respond, "The decrees of the blind G.o.ddess are not gropings in the dark;" and he moreover, said, that an ineffectual trial, followed by an acquittal, would not only be injurious to the interests of justice, damaging to the prestige of official dexterity, but dangerous to the country, in the humour in which the inhabitants of Edinburgh felt themselves. That humour had often shewn itself before. The example of the Porteous mob was not only a lesson, but, as regards the crimes, a derision; and it was just as certain as the death of the brisk little old woman, that the big old Edinburgh would take the blind lady into their own hands, and if she would not _see_ that it was right that these four persons should be hanged, whether on a barber's pole or not--they would extract her cataract or cure her _amaurosis_ for the purpose, and then immolate the criminals at her altar.