'POLLINGTON, _30th August_, 187-.

Sir,--I think it right to tell you that I reached my father's house in this town late yesterday evening. I have come direct from one of the South Sea Islands _via_ Honolulu and San Francisco, and have not yet been in England forty-eight hours. I am an old friend of Mr.

John Caldigate, and went with him from England to the gold diggings in New South Wales. My name will be known to you, as I am now aware that it was frequently mentioned in the course of the late trial. It will probably seem odd to you that I had never even heard of the trial till I reached my father's house last night. I did not know that Caldigate had married Miss Bolton, nor that Euphemia Smith had claimed him as her husband.

'I am able and willing to swear that they had not become man and wife up to June 1873, and that no one at Ahalala or n.o.bble conceived them to be man and wife. Of course, they had lived together. But everybody knew all about it. Some time before June,--early, I should say, in that autumn,--there had been a quarrel. I am sure they were at daggers drawn with each other all that April and May in respect to certain mining shares, as to which Euphemia Smith behaved very badly. I don't think it possible that they should ever have come together again; but in May '73,--which is the date I have heard named,--they certainly were not man and wife.

'I have thought it right to inform you of this immediately on my return, and am, your obedient servant,

'RICHARD SHAND.'

Mr. Seely, when he received this letter, found it to be his duty to take it at once to Sir John Joram, up in London. He did not believe d.i.c.k Shand. But then he had put no trust in Bagwax, and had been from the first convinced, in his own mind, that Caldigate had married the woman.

As soon as it was known to him that his client had paid twenty thousand pounds to Crinkett and the woman, he was quite sure of the guilt of his client. He had done the best for Caldigate at the trial, as he would have done for any other client; but he had never felt any of that enthusiasm which had instigated Sir John. Now that Caldigate was in prison, Mr. Seely thought that he might as well be left there quietly, trusting to the verdict, trusting to Judge Bramber, and trusting still more strongly on his own early impressions. This letter from d.i.c.k,--whom he knew to have been a ruined drunkard, a disgrace to his family, and an outcast from society,--was to his thinking just such a letter as would be got up in such a case, in the futile hope of securing the succour of a Secretary of State. He was sure that no Secretary of State would pay the slightest attention to such a letter. But still it would be necessary that he should show it to Sir John, and as a trip to London was not disagreeable to his professional mind, he started with it on the very day of its receipt.

'Of course we must have his deposition on oath,' said Sir John.

'You think it will be worth while?'

'Certainly. I am more convinced than ever that there was no marriage.

That post-office clerk has been with me,--Bagwax,--and has altogether convinced me.'

'I didn't think so much of Bagwax, Sir John.'

'I dare say not, Mr. Seely;--an absurdly energetic man,--one of those who destroy by their over-zeal all the credit which their truth and energy ought to produce. But he has, I think, convinced me that that letter could not have pa.s.sed through the Sydney post-office in May '73.'

'If so, Sir John, even that is not much,--towards upsetting a verdict.'

'A good deal, I think, when the characters of the persons are considered. Now comes this man, whom we all should have believed, had he been present, and tells this story. You had better get hold of him and bring him to me, Mr. Seely.'

Then Mr. Seely hung up his hat in London for three or four days, and sent to Pollington for d.i.c.k Shand. d.i.c.k Shand obeyed the order, and both of them waited together upon Sir John. 'You have come back at a very critical point of time for your friend,' said the barrister.

d.i.c.k had laid aside the coat and waistcoat with the broad checks, and the yellow trousers, and had made himself look as much like an English gentleman as the a.s.sistance of a ready-made-clothes shop at Pollington would permit. But still he did not quite look like a man who had spent three years at Cambridge. His experiences among the gold diggings, then his period of maddening desolation as a Queensland shepherd, and after that his life among the savages in a South Sea island, had done much to change him. Sir John and Mr. Seely together almost oppressed him. But still he was minded to speak up for his friend. Caldigate had, upon the whole, been very good to him, and d.i.c.k was honest. 'He has been badly used any way,' he said.

'You have had no intercourse with any of his friends since you have been home, I think?' This question Sir John asked because Mr. Seely had suggested that this appearance of the man at this special moment might not improbably be what he called a 'plant.'

'I have had no intercourse with anybody, sir. I came here last Friday, and I hadn't spoken a word to anybody before that. I didn't know that Caldigate had been in trouble at all. My people at Pollington were the first to tell me about it.'

'Then you wrote to Mr. Seely? You have heard of Mr. Seely?'

'The governor,--that's my father,--he had heard of Mr. Seely. I wrote first as he told me. They knew all about it at Pollington as well as you do.'

'You were surprised, then, when you heard the story?'

'Knocked off my pins, sir. I never was so much taken aback in my life.

To be told that John Caldigate had married Euphemia Smith after all that I had seen,--and that he had been married to her in May '73! I knew of course that it was all a got-up thing. And he's in prison?'

'He is in prison, certainly.'

'For bigamy?'

'Indeed he is, Mr. Shand.'

'And how about his real wife?'

'His real wife, as you call her----'

'She is, as sure as my name is Richard Shand.'

'It is on behalf of that lady that we are almost more anxious than for Mr. Caldigate himself. In this matter she has been perfectly innocent; and whoever may have been the culprit,--or culprits,--she has been cruelly ill-used.'

'She'll have her husband back again, of course,' said d.i.c.k.

'That will depend in part upon what faith the judge who tried the case may place in your story. Your deposition shall be taken, and it will be my duty to submit it to the Secretary of State. He will probably be actuated by the weight which this further evidence will have upon the judge who heard the former evidence. You will understand, Mr. Shand, that your word will be opposed to the words of four other persons.'

'Four perjured scoundrels,' said d.i.c.k, with energy.

'Just so,--if your story be true.'

'It is true, sir,' said d.i.c.k, with much anger in his tone.

'I hope so,--with all my heart. You are on the same side with us, you know. I only want to make you understand how much ground there may be for doubt. It is not easy to upset a verdict. And, I fear, many righteous verdicts would be upset if the testimony of one man could do it. Perhaps you will be able to prove that you only arrived at Liverpool on Sat.u.r.day night.'

'Certainly I can.'

'You cannot prove that you had not heard of the case before.'

'Certainly I can. I can swear it.' Sir John smiled. 'They all knew that at Pollington. They told me of it. The governor told me about Mr. Seely, and made me write the letter.'

'That would not be evidence,' said Sir John.

'Heavens on earth! I tell you I was struck all on a heap when I heard it, just as much as if they had said he'd been hung for murder. You put Crinkett and me together and then you'll know. I suppose you think somebody's paying me for this,--that I've got a regular tip.'

'Not at all, Mr. Shand. And I quite understand that it should be difficult for you to understand. When a man sees a thing clearly himself he cannot always realise the fact that others do not see it also. I think I perceive what you have to tell us, and we are very much obliged to you for coming forward so immediately. Perhaps you would not mind sitting in the other room for five minutes while I say a word to Mr.

Seely.'

'I can go away altogether.'

'Mr. Seely will be glad to see you again with reference to the deposition you will have to make. You shall not be kept waiting long.'

Then d.i.c.k returned, with a sore heart, feeling half inclined to blaze out in wrath against the great advocate. He had come forward to tell a plain story, having nothing to gain, paying his railway fare and other expenses out of his own--or rather out of his father's pocket, and was told he would not be believed! It is always hard to make an honest witness understand that it may be the duty of others to believe him to be a liar, and d.i.c.k Shand did not understand it now.

'There was no Australian marriage,' Sir John said as soon as he was alone with Mr. Seely.

'You think not?'

'My mind is clear about it. We must get that man out, if it be only for the sake of the lady.'

'It is so very easy, Sir John, to have a story like that made up.'

'I have had to do with a good many made-up stories, Mr. Seely;--and with a good many true stories.'