Witness for the Defence

W. Mason A. E.

Description

"People get what they want if they want it enough, but they can't control the price they have to pay." That's the hard truth at the heart of this intricately plotted page-turner from A. E. W. Mason. Despite their lingering ardor, a pair of star-crossed lovers are forced to betray one another again and again when they find themselves mired in a series of missed chances and miscommunications.

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 septembre 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776586738
• Langue: English

Extrait

WITNESS FOR THE DEFENCE
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A. E. W. MASON
 
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Witness for the Defence First published in 1914 Epub ISBN 978-1-77658-673-8 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77658-674-5 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - Henry Thresk Chapter II - On Bignor Hill Chapter III - In Bombay Chapter IV - Jane Repton Chapter V - The Quest Chapter VI - In the Tent at Chitiptur Chapter VII - The Photograph Chapter VIII - And the Rifle Chapter IX - An Episode in Ballantyne's Life Chapter X - News from Chitipur Chapter XI - Thresk Intervenes Chapter XII - Thresk Gives Evidence Chapter XIII - Little Beeding Again Chapter XIV - The Hazlewoods Chapter XV - The Great Crusade Chapter XVI - Consequences Chapter XVII - Trouble for Mr. Hazlewood Chapter XVIII - Mr. Hazlewood Seeks Advice Chapter XIX - Pettifer's Plan Chapter XX - On the Downs Chapter XXI - The Letter is Written Chapter XXII - A Way Out of the Trap Chapter XXIII - Methods from France Chapter XXIV - The Witness Chapter XXV - In the Library Chapter XXVI - Two Strangers Chapter XXVII - The Verdict
Chapter I - Henry Thresk
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The beginning of all this difficult business was a little speech whichMrs. Thresk fell into a habit of making to her son. She spoke it thefirst time on the spur of the moment without thought or intention. Butshe saw that it hurt. So she used it again—to keep Henry in hisproper place.
"You have no right to talk, Henry," she would say in the hard practicalvoice which so completed her self-sufficiency. "You are not earning yourliving. You are still dependent upon us;" and she would add with a noteof triumph: "Remember, if anything were to happen to your dear father youwould have to shift for yourself, for everything has been left to me."
Mrs. Thresk meant no harm. She was utterly without imagination and had nospecial delicacy of taste to supply its place—that was all. People andwords—she was at pains to interpret neither the one nor the other andshe used both at random. She no more contemplated anything happening toher husband, to quote her phrase, than she understood the effect herbarbarous little speech would have on a rather reserved schoolboy.
Nor did Henry himself help to enlighten her. He was shrewd enough torecognise the futility of any attempt. No! He just looked at hercuriously and held his tongue. But the words were not forgotten. Theyroused in him a sense of injustice. For in the ordinary well-to-docircle, in which the Thresks lived, boys were expected to be an expenseto their parents; and after all, as he argued, he had not asked to beborn. And so after much brooding, there sprang up in him an antagonism tohis family and a fierce determination to owe to it as little as he could.
There was a full share of vanity no doubt in the boy's resolve, but theantagonism had struck roots deeper than his vanity; and at an age whenother lads were vaguely dreaming themselves into Admirals andField-Marshals and Prime-Ministers Henry Thresk, content with lowerground, was mapping out the stages of a good but perfectly feasiblecareer. When he reached the age of thirty he must be beginning to makemoney; at thirty-five he must be on the way to distinction—his name mustbe known beyond the immediate circle of his profession; at forty-five hemust be holding public office. Nor was his profession in any doubt. Therewas but one which offered these rewards to a man starting in life withoutmoney to put down—the Bar.
So to the Bar in due time Henry Thresk was called; and when somethingdid happen to his father he was trained for the battle. A bank failed andthe failure ruined and killed old Mr. Thresk. From the ruins just enoughwas scraped to keep his widow, and one or two offers of employment weremade to Henry Thresk.
But he was tenacious as he was secret. He refused them, and with thehelp of pupils, journalism and an occasional spell as an electionagent, he managed to keep his head above water until briefs beganslowly to come in.
So far then Mrs. Thresk's stinging speeches seemed to have beenjustified. But at the age of twenty-eight he took a holiday. He went downfor a month into Sussex, and there the ordered scheme of his life wasthreatened. It stood the attack; and again it is possible to plead in itsfavour with a good show of argument. But the attack, nevertheless, bringsinto light another point of view.
Prudence, for instance, the disputant might urge, is all very well in theordinary run of life, but when the great moments come conduct wantsanother inspiration. Such an one would consider that holiday with athought to spare for Stella Derrick, who during its passage saw much ofHenry Thresk. The actual hour when the test came happened on one of thelast days of August.
Chapter II - On Bignor Hill
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They were riding along the top of the South Downs between Singleton andArundel, and when they came to where the old Roman road from Chichesterclimbs over Bignor Hill, Stella Derrick raised her hand and halted. Shewas then nineteen and accounted lovely by others besides Henry Thresk,who on this morning rode at her side. She was delicately yet healthfullyfashioned, with blue eyes under broad brows, raven hair and a face paleand crystal-clear. But her lips were red and the colour came easily intoher cheeks.
She pointed downwards to the track slanting across the turf from the browof the hill.
"That's Stane Street. I promised to show it you."
"Yes," answered Thresk, taking his eyes slowly from her face. It was amorning rich with sunlight, noisy with blackbirds, and she seemed to hima necessary part of it. She was alive with it and gave rather than tookof its gold. For not even that finely chiselled nose of hers could impartto her anything of the look of a statue.
"Yes. They went straight, didn't they, those old centurions?" he said.
He moved his horse and stood in the middle of the track looking across avalley of forest and meadow to Halnaker Down, six miles away in thesouthwest. Straight in the line of his eyes over a shoulder of the downrose a tall fine spire—the spire of Chichester Cathedral, and farther onhe could see the water in Bosham Creek like a silver mirror, and theChannel rippling silver beyond. He turned round. Beneath him lay the bluedark weald of Sussex, and through it he imagined the hidden line of theroad driving straight as a ruler to London.
"No going about!" he said. "If a hill was in the way the road climbedover it; if a marsh it was built through it."
They rode on slowly along the great whaleback of grass, winding in andout amongst brambles and patches of yellow-flaming gorse. The day wasstill even at this height; and when, far away, a field of long grassunder a stray wind bent from edge to edge with the swift motion ofrunning water, it took them both by surprise. And they met no one. Theyseemed to ride in the morning of a new clean world. They rose higher onto Duncton Down, and then the girl spoke.
"So this is your last day here."
He gazed about him out towards the sea, eastwards down the slope to thedark trees of Arundel, backwards over the weald to the high ridge ofBlackdown.
"I shall look back upon it."
"Yes," she said. "It's a day to look back upon."
She ran over in her mind the days of this last month since he had come tothe inn at Great Beeding and friends of her family had written to herparents of his coming. "It's the most perfect of all your days here. I amglad. I want you to carry back with you good memories of our Sussex."
"I shall do that," said he, "but for another reason."
Stella pushed on a foot or two ahead of him.
"Well," she said, "no doubt the Temple will be stuffy."
"Nor was I thinking of the Temple."
"No?"
"No."
She rode on a little way whilst he followed. A great bee buzzed pasttheir heads and settled in the cup of a wild rose. In a copse beside thema thrush shot into the air a quiverful of clear melody.
Stella spoke again, not looking at her companion, and in a low voice andbravely with a sweet confusion of her blood.
"I am very glad to hear you say that, for I was afraid that I had let yousee more than I should have cared for you to see—unless you had beenanxious to see it too."
She waited for an answer, still keeping her distance just a foot or twoahead, and the answer did not come. A vague terror began to possess herthat things which could never possibly be were actually happening toher. She spoke again with a tremor in her voice and all the confidencegone out of it. Almost it appealed that she should not be put to shamebefore herself.
"It would have been a little humiliating to remember, if that hadbeen true."
Then upon the ground she saw the shadow of Thresk's horse creep up untilthe two rode side by side. She looked at him quickly with a doubtfulwavering smile and looked down again. What did all the trouble in hisface portend? Her heart thumped and she heard him say:
"Stella, I have something very difficult to say to you."
He laid a hand gently upon her arm, but she wrenched herself free. Shamewas upon her—shame unendurable. She tingled with it from head to foot.She turned to him suddenly a face grown crimson and eyes which brimmedwith tears.
"Oh," she cried aloud, "that I should have been such a fool!" and sheswayed forward in her saddle. But before he could reach out an arm tohold her she was upright again, and with a cut of her whip she was offat a gallop.
"Stella," he cried, but she only used her whip the more. She g