His Eminence had made a sworn statement that he heard angry voices 'twixt Don Miguel and His Grace some little time before the Marquis was found dead. Well, that was true enough! There _had_ been a deadly quarrel, and though this did not aggravate the case, it helped to establish the facts, if public opinion was like to sway the judges or if disbelief in Wess.e.x' guilt was too firmly rooted in the minds of his peers.

The indictment was a masterpiece, well could the Solicitor-General pride himself on the perfection of the doc.u.ment.

A dull, oppressive silence had fallen upon this vast concourse of people. Interest, which was at fever-pitch, had forcibly to be kept in check, but now, as the Clerk's final words echoed feebly through the vast hall, a great sigh of eager excitement rose from the entire mult.i.tude.

Everything so far had been but preliminary, the somewhat dull, lengthy prologue of the coming palpitating drama. But at last the curtain was about to rise on the first act, and the chief actor was ready to step upon the stage.

Already from afar loud murmurs and excited cries proclaimed the approach of the prisoner.

"He hath arrived from the Tower," whispered the 'prentices to one another.

The distant murmurs grew in volume, then came nearer and nearer. All necks were craned to see the Duke arrive, and even the repeated calls of the Serjeant-at-Arms demanding silence were now left unheeded.

Whispers pa.s.sed from lip to ear. Comments and conjectures flew through the crowd. Was not this the most interesting moment of this interesting day?

"How would he carry himself?"

"How would he look?"

"How doth a n.o.bleman look when he becomes a felon?"

"Silence! Here they come!"

The Serjeant-at-Arms once more stood up before the people and loudly read a proclamation, calling upon the Lieutenant of the Tower of London to return his precept and bring forth his prisoner.

This was responded to by a call of "Present!" from outside, followed by a loud tumult. The next moment the great doors of the Hall were thrown open, six armed men entered and walked straight up the centre aisle towards the bar.

Behind them appeared the Lieutenant of the Tower of London, with Lord Rich, and between them was Robert d'Esclade, fifth Duke of Wess.e.x, the prisoner.

Dressed all in black, he looked distinctly older than the crowd had remembrance of him. A sigh of excited antic.i.p.ation went all along the line, a regular bousculade ensued; the people behind trying to catch a nearer glimpse of the Duke and pushing those who were in front. The 'prentices, who were squatting in the foremost rank on the ground, were violently jerked forward, some fell on their faces right up against the Lieutenant and my lord Rich, seeing which and the general excited confusion the Duke was observed to smile.

A woman in the crowd murmured--

"The Lord bless his handsome face!"

"Heaven ward Your Grace!" added another.

The women's pity--and that only momentarily. And the awful publicity of it all! Among the men wagers were offered and taken in his hearing as he pa.s.sed, whether sentence of death would be pa.s.sed on him or not.

"Will they hang him, think you?"

"No, no, 'tis always the axe for n.o.ble lords; but they'll have him drawn and quartered for sure."

"G.o.d help Your Grace!" sighed the women.

Indeed, if pride was a deadly sin, how deadly was its punishment now.

The crowd was not hostile, only indifferent, curious, eager to see; and every remark made by these stolid gapers must have cut the prisoner like a blow.

They watched him cross the entire length of the hall, commenting on his appearance, his clothes, his past life, a coa.r.s.e jest even came to his ears now and again, a laugh of derision or an exclamation of satisfied envy.

Fallen Wess.e.x indeed!

He tried with all his might not to show what he felt, and evidently he succeeded over well, for Mr. Thomas Norton, in his comments on the trial, states placidly:--

"The prisoner seemeth not to understand the gravity of his position and careth naught for the heinousness of his crime. Truly this indifference marketh a G.o.dless soul or else the supreme conceit of wealth and high rank, he having many friends among his peers and being confident of an acquittal."

Lord Rich alone, who walked by the side of the Duke, and stood close to him throughout the awful ordeal, has noted in his interesting memoirs how deeply the accused was moved when he realized that he would have to stand at the bar on a raised dais, in full view of all the crowd.

"Meseemed that his hand trembled when first he rested it on the bar,"

adds his lordship in his chronicles. "He being pa.s.sing tall he could be seen by all and sundry, which was trying to his pride. But anon His Grace caught my eye, and I doubt not but that he read therein all the sympathy which I felt for him, for he then threw back his head and scanned the crowd right fearlessly, and more like a king ready to read a proclamation than a felon awaiting his trial. Then, as he looked all around him, his eyes lighted on my lord the Cardinal de Moreno and on a veiled female figure who sat close to the Spanish envoy. He then became deathly pale, and I, fearing that he might swoon, caught him by the arm.

But he pressed my hand and thanked me, saying only that the heat of the room was oppressive."

It is evident that my lord Rich was a hot partisan of the accused. He and the Lieutenant of the Tower stood close beside the Duke throughout the trial, the Tower guard forming a semicircle round the bar, and the Chamberlain of the Tower holding the axe with its edge from the prisoner and towards Lord Rich.

Mr. Thomas Norton tells us that at this point of the proceedings the excitement was intense. Lord Chandois himself seemed unable to keep up the rigid dignity of his office. The peers who were the triers were eagerly whispering to one another. The Clerk seemed unable to clear his throat before calling on the accused.

The crowd too felt this acute tension. The people had already noticed the veiled female figure, clad in sombre kirtle and black paniers, who had entered the Hall a little while ago, accompanied by His Eminence the Cardinal, and had since then sat, dull and rigid, beside him, seemingly taking no notice of the proceedings. A hurried conversation carried on in whispers between His Eminence and my lord High Steward had been noted by everybody--yet no one dared to ask a question.

It seemed as if an invisible presence had suddenly made itself felt, a spirit from the land of shadows, that awesome precursor of death which is called "Retribution," and that from his ghostly lips there had fallen--unheard yet felt by every heart--the mighty dictate of an almighty will: "Thou shalt do no murder!"

Had the spirit really pa.s.sed? Who can tell? But the soul of every man and woman there was left quivering. There was not a hand that now did not slightly tremble, not one lid that failed to move, for the supreme moment had come for the accomplishment of an irreparable wrong.

The spectators had before them the picture of that solemn Court, the Lord High Steward with chain and sword of gold, the judges in their red robes, the peers with their ermine, and here and there quaint patches of unexpected colour as the wintry sun struck full through the coloured facets of the huge window beyond and alighted on a black gown or the leather jerkins of the guard.

They saw the halberds of the men-at-arms faintly gleaming in the wan, grey light, the Cardinal's purple robes, a brilliant note amidst the dull ma.s.s of browns and blacks; the blue doublet of Sir Henry Beddingfield, a jarring bit of discord between the sable-hued garb of the other gentlemen there.

And there, amongst them all, the tall, erect figure, the one quiet, impa.s.sive face in this surging sea of excitement--the prisoner at the bar!

CHAPTER x.x.xV

THE TRIAL

The excitement, great as it was, had perforce to be kept in check.

The Clerk of the Crown had collected his papers: he now stood up and called upon the accused:

"Robert, Duke of Wess.e.x and of Dorchester, Earl of Launceston, Wexford and Bridthorpe, Baron of Greystone, Ullesthorpe and Edbrooke, Premier Peer of England, hold up thy right hand."

The prisoner having done so, Mr. Barham, the Queen's Sergeant, opened the contents of the indictment.

"Whereas it is said that on the fourteenth day of October thou didst unlawfully kill Don Miguel, Marquis de Suarez, grandee of Spain and envoy extraordinary of His Most Catholic Majesty the King of Spain, thou art therefore to make answer to this charge of murder. I therefore charge thee once again: art thou guilty of this crime, whereof thou art indicted, yea or nay?"

"I am guilty," replied Wess.e.x firmly, "and I have confessed."